Nevada County picayune., 1891-12-24
MARGARET'S LETTER.

James Oakley worked at his trade as carpenter in tue same village near the Hudson river, where he was born. His little cottage with the tall lilacs in front, and the kitchen garden in the rear, was very deal place to him. His pleasant-faced sunny hearted wife kept the home always bright and tidy, and the three rosy children filled it with glee and laughter. Margaret, the oldest, was sweet, loving girl; Dick was { sturdy, manly little fellow, and Rob bic was the darling of the house.
 Mir. Oakley was a skillful mechan. ic and an industrious, God. fearing man; but times were dull for him ir Smithville Center. There was little going on in the way of new building and he often had to be absent from home for weeks together, while em- ployed at some remote place.
 After many earnest talks with hls wife they decided to remove to the west, where new villages and cities were rapidly growing up. So they found purchaser for the little cot. tage, and had an auction sale of the COW and horse and all the furniture except some heirlooms and a few articles which they would not part with. Then, after bidding theil neighbo-s good-by, they entered tho cars and were whirled away to new home in flourishlng town in Ill inois.
 It was early in spring. The red bud bushes were bright in the thick cts, and a thousand flowers, new an( strange to the immigrants, painted the praires. An air of bustling ac tivity pervaded the town. Build ings were going up on every side and Mir. Oakley soon found employ ment at better wages than he had ever received in his old home.
 For time everything went wei with him and his family. His worl was in constant demand, and if his thoughts ever turned with tender re gret to the green hills which sur rounded his former home, he haC only to look at his rosy children anC picture to himself the career whicl seemed open for them in the vigorous growing west.
 Spring wore away into summer and under the long and rainless heat the river which flowed past the towI shrunk into it's bed, leaving grea, stretches of slimy ooze fostering il the fierce sunshine. Autumn came at length, with soft south winds lader with germs of disease. Robbie, tn, pet of the house, was stricken with , malarial fever. For long days anC nights he lay in his crib, tossing anC and moaning with flushed cheeks ant heavy eyes. At length the crisis was passed, but recovery was slow and while Robbie was still the mere shadow of the ruddy checked little boy he had been, the fever seized upon his father. There were sorrow ful times now in the little household Mrs. Oakley watched day and night beside her husband and little boy, and helpful Margaret proved herself a treasure.
 When the first brief, wintry day came Robbie was once more playing around the house, and his father, upon whom the fever had spent its force, could only sit, wan and pale, in his arm chair. His little savings were rapidly melting away and a long winter had only just begun. Christmas was near at hand, and who was to fin the children's stock ings and make the day merry one for them!
 Margaret was thoughtful little girl, and she pondered long over the matter. Two days before Christmas she got a postal card, and sat down and wrote on it as follows;
 "Dear Santa Claus We have moved since last Christmas, and l am afraid you won't know where to find us, so l write this. We live now at No. 36 East Fourth street. Papa and Robbie have been awfully sick {,