The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-12-25

|
mas, Toni Merry Christmas, Harry!
Christmas day already?
Out of bed with you, every one. Scram-
BILE down stairs, all Of you. No time for
clothes; no time for shoes and stockings.
Fair now, no one first, but three abreast.
Down stairs in white gowns and barefoot.
1 Not aybreaK yet. 1t is dark in the hall,
but there is bright light in the study at
the other end of the hall Every body
quiet, nobody saying anthing. Papa and
mama behind US, still as mice. Bright
! light iickers in the room. Half afraid
/ little eyes very big and little feet very
timid. Not so fast. He might not be
gone, and think what if you should see
! Santa Claus!
| Oh dearl Beautiful Christmas treei So
| many things and so many lights-candles,
/ red. green, blue, white, brown, and every
color with bright ball swinging below
/ each one-shining quicksilvered orna-
ments-mistletoe and holly leaves crack
| ling in the candleheat. And presents
| hung high and low and arranged upon the
| floor beneath. A drum with the sticks
stuck in the side. That must be
Harry's. A tool-chest-open now, but
| with key that will lock it
tight when its owner wills. The card
| reads "Tom." And there with it's rich
brown wood among the green twigs of the
tree. rejecting the candle lights, and its
long bow and rosin box close to its side
violin-no toy one, mind you, but full
size. Dicks of course.
And the stockings-they were almost
fOrgOtten-here they are-bulging-cram-
med. TOMS bright eyes make a discovery.
How's this? He pinned his stocking up
with a crooked pin, and it would not hold
well in the plaster wall. He remembered
that distinctly. And now the pin is gone
entirely and Santa Claus has substituted
heavy tack. But no matter-the pin never
would have held it.
What can be in the toe of that stocking?
Heavy, too. Will he never get to it? Here
it is at last-wrapped in tissue paper.
Hands all a-tremble. Can't unwrap it.
VIII have to tear the paper-a pocket
knifel Fourteen blades-more or less;
file and scissors, tweezers and nutpick.
And now Tom confesses that he had want
ed a pocket-knife all along and he was
disappointed, just a little bit, when he
didn't get it on the tree and before he
thought of the stocking.
Rude boys. You have forgotten Susan,
blue-eyed sister Susan, who at the very first
descended upon her doll and is fondliDg
it and arranging its fluffy fiaxen hair
to the exclusion of the whole world. Baby
carriage, doll dishes are waiting for her
admiration in vain. 1t will be a full hour
before she pauses in her devotion to the
doll.
No breakfast? Don't want any break
fast? That might have been expected. |
Too much candy. Mama says you will all |
be sick. Nine o'clock and you haven't |
your clothes on yet.
Eleven o'clock, and mama is left alone. |
Children over to the neighbors comparing |
presents.
Three. o'clock. Turkey steaming on the |
platter. Papa fiourishng the carver, asks: |
white meat or dark"
And every child with beaming counte- |
nance makes answer:
Both"
Night again Lamps lighted. Heavy |
eyelids. Early e. rise, early to bed. Tum- /
bic the boys under the covers, after each |
has seen a safe disposition of his treasure /
Mama and papa sit by the fire and talk |
over the day. And presently mama slips !
out and coming back again beckons papa.
And together they bend over the white
pillow where the faxen dolls head lies
cuddled close in Susan's curls.