Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1891-12-17
"But it's for Christmas, Aunt Jane, y

! ventured Prudence. Its tomorrow
night, you know"
''No, I don't know" rejoined her
aunt; land if tendin' school is goin' to
fill your heads full O. nonsense, I'll
take you away mighty quick. 1 don't
believe in Christmas. There amt no
sense in givin' a whole pack of presents
right and left. Now, what under the
canopy are you cryin' about, Prudence?
l declare, if one or the other of you
amt alwers cryin' about somethin -
''She's thinking what the girls will
say when we tell 'em we didn't get any
thing" explained Rebecca, for Pru-
dence couldn't speak. ''They're sure to
ask, you know, m think it funny
''Let 'em ask, them said Aunt Jane,
sharply. I'D like to know if folks
don't think I'm dom we'll by you as
It's? Seems like faint enough to feed
n clothe We, n send We to school. Ye
want whole raft O. presents besides!
Well, We won't get 'em, no matter what
folks say. I'm a willin' boss, but I
won't be rid to death by nobody. Now,
Prudence, you stop that cryin' m go
upstairs N get your patchwork; n you
go down suller after a pan O. apples, Re-
becca. And want 'em peeled better'n
you peeled those yesterday, too.''
But whipping together squares Of cal
leo and peeling apples did not cause
either of the little girls to forget their
disappointment. They were very young
when they came to live with their aunt
and uncle in the lonely farmhouse, and
they had been kept there so closely
that their ideas of Christmas had been
very vague and shadowy until this fall,
when they had begun term at the
district school: They had learned all
about Christmas then. and for the past
fortnight there had been talk of little
else. 1t was hard enough to Prudence
and Rebecca to know that they would
be left out of all Christmas joys, but
the modification of having to con-
fess this the following Monday to their
mates would be, they thought, harder
still.
Rebecca felt that she could bear it
better if Prudence didn't take it so to
heart; but there was nothing of the her.
oine about poor little Prue, and she
made no attempt to conceal the tears
that rolled slowly down her cheeks and
fell, one by one, on the squares of patch
work in her lap.
Rebecca, finding the sight too painful
at last. turned her chair so that she
could not see her sister, and went over
in her mind all her small possessions,
trying to think if she owned anything
that Prue would fancy for Christmas
gift. There was that queerly-shaped
gourd Tim Binns, the hired man, had
given her, and the pretty glittering
stone she had picked up in the pasture
one day. But Prue had seen these a
hundred times, and, of course, would
not care for them. No, there didn't seem
any chance to have any sort of a Christ
mas.
She turned her head and furtively
glanced at Prue. The tears were fall
ing still, and an occasional stifed sob
made Aunt Jane look up GROSSLY from
the ham she was SHINING. Rebecca
sighed. If only Prue would not take
it so to heart! She was beginning to
feel a little Respondent herself, when
suddenly an idea came to her; an idea
so brilliant that for moment she was
fairly dizzy with excitement. Her
whole face lighted up, and her alb
sorption was SO great that she forgot
all about the potatoes, until a sharp:
"What under the sun air We starin' at,
Rebecca?" brought her to a realization
of her neglect.
Il amt starin, Aunt Jane; I was
just thinlxin' about something she re-
| joined, trying to make signals of joy
and relief to Prue. But Prue shook
her head. The signals were too mys-
terious for her to understand, and her
tears continued to flow at intervals un-
upstairs
Then down went the pan of potatoes
with crash, the knife followed after,
and Rebecca few to her sister and
threw both arms rapturously around
her.
eve won't be ashamed next Monday,
Prue"' she cried, joyously. ''The girls
need never know Aunt Jane wouldn't
give us anything: for I've thought of
something, Prue,'' her voice sinking to
a tense whisper. 1--WE can make a
CHFlSCIIldS Tree 1OT ourselves, ana we
can hang up our stockings, too. We
can just pretend to have Christmas,
Prue, and it'll be the same to talk about
as the real thing
''Pretend it! / don't understand -
said Prue, slowly.
II can't tell you nowhere comes
Aunt Jane. But don't cry any more.
It'll be all right!'' And Rebecca rushed
back to her chair and picked up the pan
of potatoes just as Miss James hand
turned the knob of the door.
II wonder what that there light in
the old henhouse means?" muttered old
Reuben Paine to himself as he came
up the path from the barnyard on
Christmas eve, with full pail of milk
in each hand. 'Those young ones are
up to something, I'll engage"
He set the milk down, and walked
softly over to the henhouse, through
every crack of which ancient structure,
long given up to ruin and decay, food
OF light was streaming. To tell the
truth, Uncle Reuben had very warm
place in his heart for the two little girls