The Sunday morning news., 1891-12-20
A Story Of Something That Hap
pened on Christmas Eve.
BY ANNIE ISABEL WILLIS.
Copy1 ight. 1S31--AH Rtghts Reserved.

his blue eyes Presently he reused him
self and began opening a pile of letters
| that lay near They were yariously adj
dressed: Simon Claus, Esq" Mr.. Simon
| Claus" "Hon. Simon Claus, and so forth.
| Finally he took up one which bore in a
| boyish hand the words "Mr. S. Claus,
| ESQ.," and the name of the city.
| The letter ran thus:
| DEER Mr.. s. CLAUs-Kitty is awfle bad.
this is to tell you so you wood bring her a good
| Chrismuss. II you Guild bring something that
wood make her well Id like it If not bring
| something she kin play with to forgt laying
still. There's man kin cure her. He cures
! spinel people. A boy told me. he lives on
| ward st. I'm going to earn enuR to pay him.
| Yures truley,
JOE WoRRELL, Gunnison alley.
M. Simon Claus preoccupation was
only slightly interrupted by the quaint
letter, decidedly unusual in his business
mail. "l"ll see what the little woman says
about it, was his passing thought. Then
he straightway forgot it, as he had the rest
of his mail.
Just then "the little woman" came softly
in. She was q complete contrast to her
big, fair haired, blue eyed Saxon husband,
being petite and graceful, with a head that
sat like lily on her slender neck, and ten
der brown eyes that were. like her hus-
bands, full of sorrow. She placed herself
on the arm of his chair. while his eyes
sought hers with an unspoken question.
'"Ihe doctors have gone" she said.
"They will be back this afternoon"
"How is shef" the man asked.
"Just the same. wanted you to know.
She is very ill, Simon believe they have
little hope"
81 was cowardly to come off here" he
said huskily, but could not bear it. Oh,
my baby! My only childl If money could
make you WE'LL"
''We cannot depend on money now" said
the wife very sweetly and solemnly. "There
is but one place to look for help"
There was short silence, and then the
lady's wandering eyes caught sight of the
soiled paper lying in front of her husband.
She took it up and read it mechanically.
THAT'S a singular letter." he said, as be
saw her reading II don't understand it. u
Her woman's wit did.
He was writing to the children's patron
saint of Christmas, don't you see," she
s..id--"Santa Claus? Iwonder, now think
of it, that you have never before had let.
ters intended for him. Probably because
the dears who write them throw them into
EoOOh
stamps on them. | will see to this, but
come; let US go up stairs to Margaret.
And" she added, leaning over to kiss him
before she rose, "let us have mighty hope
and faith for the result of the consulta-
tion!f
The room which they entered was an ex-
q,isite setting for the jewel it held, the
most precious one III the wealthy mer-
chants possession-his only child. She
lay like flower among the rose colored
hangings and furnishings, but no reflec-
tion of their hue could bring color into the
pale face lighted by large brown eyes and
short gold curls.
Three of her ten years had been spent in
pain, which instead of making her selfish
had done the very opposite, and she was
eager and loving with the little services
she could render, especially to the poor
whom her mother helped.
Mamma she called. as the parents
entered, ''are all the things ordered for
Christmas?"
"Yes, darling"
"How long is it till Christmas, mamma"
the little voice continued.
"A week, Margaret"
"Im so glad it's near" she said, with a
happy sigh.
Here is new person to help tie
mother said, thinking to divert her: She
read Joe Worrell's letter.
Margaret was ut once deeply interested,
and began to plan what they should send
to Gunnison alley.
'I'm so glad can play Santa Claus,
mamma. she said happily Don't you