The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1889-12-27
MICKEY FINN7S CHRISTMAS
PRESENT.

breath Of Jack Frost, had put on their fine
raiment Of crimson and gold. Quail piped
in the meadow and cartridges preened
their feathers in the laurel brakes. Chest
nut burrs had begun to yawn and squir-
rels to whisk their banner-like tails from
branch to branch in the chestnut trees.
One evening in the early part of October
Mrs. Finn sent her boy Mickey to the gro
Gerry store with these instructions:
"Git a quarter of a pound of Crane tay,
mixed; Owlong tay, name; war baar of
WALLER soap, like We got the last tonne; wan
shkein of black thread, and three candles,
SKIES. And see here, Mickey, We can tell
~O'Shaughnessy he may as well charge it.
Moind, now, fwhat I'm tellin' We, be shure
and tell him if thin candles is cutlery like
the last time I'll take me trade to Reilly
acrass the street. Bad luck to thin thav-
in blaggards, they're always chatin' the
poor. Run along now, Mickey, and ye'd
better put on yer shoes for fear ye'd stub
yer toes.,'
Little Mike went out of the gate wills
uling. He had reached the corner of the
street when he turned back again and put
his head in at the door, saying as he did
SO:
SIS it a quarter of a pound of aich kind
of tay, Crane and black, or only a quarter
of a pound of them together, I'm to get,
mother??"
"Bad luck to ye, Mickey, | thought ye
were there and back be his tonne re-
piled Mrs. Finn. Then she held up her
hand and began counting on her fingers.
s'Thar's four things ye're to get-tay, soap,
thread and candles-candles, soap, thread
and tay; tay-"
But little Mike had gone and Mrs. Finn
turned to her husband as he sat smoking
before the fire and said:
Mike, dear, fwhat are ye goin' to give
the little lad for Christmas
'Musha, Blu. thar's tonne enough to be
thinkin' O. that, Biddy,' replied Mr.. Finn.
ssShure it's nearly three months away yet.
Ye can't fool the lad anyhow, Biddy. He's
gettin' that big now he knows who Sanity
Claws is"
sHe do not then, Mike. And he shall
hav' a foiner Christmas present nor he
ever had before was the indignant re-
ply.
"But WHARF will you get the money to
buy it wild, Biddy?" said her husband.
"Arrah, don't thrnbble yersel', Mike;
I'll get it and not ak We for a clint"
It'll be a moighty foine present Yell
get widout money" sneered Mr.. Finn.
This taunt reused Mrs. Finn, and she
would have replied in an angry manner
had not little Mike stepped in just then on
his return from the grocery. His mothers
anger died away like mutterings in April
thunder. But she resolved that no matter
what personal sacrifices might come of it
she would make her boys eyes dance with
delight on Christmas morning and turn
her husbands sarcasm to chagrin. Mrs.
Finn was the owner of three Brahma hens.
She had raised them herself, had built the
coop in which they were kept, and had
fed them until they became SO tame that
they would eat from her hand. Next to
her boy and her husband these hens were
the joy of Mrs. Firms heart. The big
dominick rooster. who stalked around the
yard on his stilt-like legs, she had named
Patsey, and each of the hens was called by
a name which Mrs. Finn considered ap-
propriate to the character of her pet. The
most demure hen she called Mary. The
others were known respectively and am
bisuously as Allana and Mavourneen.
On the morning of the conversation re-
lated above Mrs. Finn found three large
brown eggs in the coop. These she put
into her apron and FASTENED up the Old
Point road to the residence of the rich
Mrs. Roberts on the hill. Mrs. Finn did
the weekly washing for the Roberts fam
lily. She pulled the bell handle of the rich
woman's house and stood FACILITATING
while the echoes rang through the long
hall. To the maid who came to the door
Mrs. Finn said:
'C'u'd I see tine misthress?"
''I'il see," replied the maid.
A favorable answer being received, Mrs.
Finn was ushered into the elegant parlor
under the big chandelier, where, covered
with confusion and bushes, she was
greeted with a pleasant smile by the
kindly hostess.
"What can / do for yon, Mrs. Finn"
said Mrs. Roberts, after her visitor had
sat down gingerly upon the edge of a rich
ly upholstered chair.
Yell excuse me for comm Until yer ILL.,
CANT house, Mrs. Roberts, but | want to
make me little lad a Christmas present,
and | was wonderin' didn't We want some
fresh eggs livery da', as is laid by me three
hins, Savin' yer prisince, ma'am. but I'll
bring thin to ye warrum from the nest
livery mornin' in me apron, so ye can hav'
thin fur yer brekquist.n
Nothing would suit me better, Mrs.
Finn. What is your price," said Mrs.
Roberts, entering into Mrs Firms scheme
with sympathetic eagerness.
Mrs. Firms face shone like a full moon
as she replied: