Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1890-12-19
THE BAKER or BARNB URI.
One Of Frank stOckIOn's Bright Christ.
mas COnceits.

1t was three days before Christmas, and
the baker Of the little village of Barnbury
sat in the room behind his shop He was
"A short and sturdy baker, a good fellow.
and ordinarily of jolly demeanor, but
this day he sat grim in his little back room
Christmas indeed he said to himself.
and what of Christmas Thank you, bak
er, and a merry Christmas to you, and
every one of them goes away, with the
present Of a raisin cake, or a horse ginger
cake, if they like that better. All this for
the good Of the trade, Of course Con
found the trade, I'm tired of trade. Is
there no good in this world, but the good
Of the trade Oh yes they'll say.
there's Christmas and that's good But
what is the good of it to me = say l. Christ
mas day is family day, and TO man with
out IA family it's no day at all I'm not
even fourth cousin to a soul in the town
Nobody asks me TO family dinner Bake!
baker they cry, that we may eat and
love each other Confound them | am
tired Of it, What is Christmas to me.
have a mind to skip it
As he said this a smile broke out on his
face Skip Christmas" said he, that's
a good idea. They did not think of me
last year this would make them think of
me this year
As he said this he opened his order book
and ran his eye over the names Here's
orders from every one Of them, said he
from the doctor down to Cobbler John
All have families, all give orders It's pas
try, cake or sweetmeats, or it's meat or
fowl to be baked. What Jolly Christmas
they will have without me Orders from
all Of them. every one all sent in good
time for fear of being crowded out
Here he stopped and ran his eve again
over the list
mo, not all, he said, the Widow Monk
is not here What is the matter with her,
| wonder The only person in Barnbury
who has not ordered either pastry, cakes
or sweetmeats or fowls or meat to be
baked. If skip Christmas she'll not mind
it. but she'll be the only one-the only one
in all Barnbury. Ha ha -
The baker wanted some fresh air. and,
as this was supper time for the whole vii
lage, he locked up his shop and went out
for a walk. The night was clear and
frosty. He liked this the air was so diff
ferent from that in his bakery.
He walked TO the end Of the village, and
at the last house he stopped
Its very odd, said he to himself "no
cakes, pastry or sweetmeats not even
poultry or meat to be baked. I'll look in and
see about this, - and he knocked at the door
The Widow Monk was at supper She
was plump little body. bright aud cheer
full to look upon, and not more than thirty
Good evening, baker" said she. will
you sit down and have a cup of tea
The baker put down his hat, unwound
his long woolen comforter took off his over
coat and had cup Of tea
Now, then said he to himself as he
put down his cup, 'If she'd ask me to din
ner | wouldn't skip Christmas, and the
whole village might rise up and bless her
I'VE are like TO have fine Christmas,
he said to her
Fine enough for the rest Of YOU" she
said, with a smile, but shall not have
any Christmas this year
"How's that - cried the baker: mo
Christmas, Widow Monk Z"
Not this year, baker" said she, and
she poured him another cup of tea. "You
see that horse blanket r. said she. pointing
to one thrown over chair
BLESS me, Widow Monk" cried the ba-
ker; you're not intending To set up
horse ~
Hardly that, she answered, with a
smile, but that's the very last horse-blank-
ct that can get to bind They don't put
them on horses, but they have them bound
with red, and use them for door curtains.
That's all the fashion now, and all the
Barnbury folks who can afford them have
sent them to me TO be bound with red. That
one is nearly finished and there are no
more to be bound
But haven't the Barnbury folks any
more work for you = cried the baker ::
haven't they shirts or gowns, or some
other sort of needing I"
Those things they make themselv yes, -
answered the widow, but this binding is
heavy work and they give it to me The
blankets are coarse, You see, but they hang
well in the doorway"
'COnfound the people of Barnburv ~
cried the baker. Every one of them
would hang well in a doorway if | had the
doing of it. And so you can't afford
Christmas, Widow Monk =
No" said she setting herself to work
on her horse blanket, mot this year. When
| came TO Barnbury, baker, / thought
might do well, but have not done well
Did not your husband leave YOU any
thing p he asked
My husband was sailor" said She
''and he went down with his brig, the Mis-
tletoe, three years ago, and all that he left
me is gone, baker"
1t was time for the baker to open his
shop and he went away, and as he walked