The Press., 1893-06-22
THE BUNco MANS CHRISTMAS.


 Continued next weekly
 THE BUNCO MANS CHRISTMAS. In a neat but humble room on the east side of the city Mary Sawdust sat with her sewing on her lap, and her children playing on the floor beside her. There l were traces of tears on her young face, and quiver in her lips as she diligently piled her needle, for it lacked but two days of Christmas, and she had no money with which to buy presents for her little ones. Mamma said little Ethel, suddenly, placing her hand on her mothers knee, "do you think papa has caught sucker on the bridge to-day?" ...,"
 II do not know, darling" replied Mary Sawdust five must hope for the best ;; | is worth.''
 | She turned to her work again with a deep sigh, and little Ethel ran in to join her brother Willie in merry game of "Catch the Jay"
 It was late when Henry Sawdust re- turned to his home, wearied with his hard days work on the Brooklyn bridge As he hung his dinner pail on it's accustomed hook, and threw himself into chair, his faithful wife noticed that his cheeks wore a ectic flush, while there was a strange glitter in his eyes.
 Ut is nol.t ng, he said; Git will pass off,"
 But the next morning he awoke in a raging fever, and poor Mary Sawdust re- alized that her Christmas was likely o be sadder one than she had looked for ward to.
 l "You must be very quiet to-day, little ones," said she to her children, "for papa is very sick, and I cannot leave the bed l side."
 Little Willie was still and thoughtful for some time after his mother left the room. Then he said softly to his sister, ''I wish l were a big man, so that might help papa when he is sick. I have often asked him to let mo go with him to carry the gold brick and the directory of bank cashiers, but he says am too little. I know what I will do; will go out on the bridge and try to win roll Oh, how pleased mamma will be if succeed: and what nice Christmas presents we would Eget."
 | Putting on his little ulster and hat he set forth on his mission. As he was walk ing down the Bowery he encountered a | Y1ooV xuyfrS quaint pattern, and carried in his left hand an old-fashioned carpet-bag. v "Please, sir," said the child, clasping the strangers right hand in his slender fingers, ''how are all the folks in Chenan- go?" l "Hey! What!" gasped the astonished provincial, turning his gaze from the tops of the houses to the childish face before him.. ...-
 "Oh, sir," continued little Willie, "poor papa is sick, and I am trying to earn money enough to buy him new ul- ster and some dye for his mustache. Won't you please let me steer you into the joint? I am such a little boy that cannot work you myself; but Thirsty Bill, papa's friend, is there, and he can win suckers roll every time in great shape"
 "Well, swan!" exclaimed the stran- ger; "I've had lem try this on me every time I've come to town for the last ten years; but this is the youngest one evel seen in the business"
 "Oh, sir," pleaded the child, "Christ- mas is coming, and we have no presents Papa is so i'll, and so poor that he had no benzine to put on his silker yesterday when he went out on the bridge. Won't you please come and be buncoed. and then dear mamma will be so happy"
 The stranger seemed deeply moved by Willie's simple tale.
 "Take me home with you, child" he said, "and will try to help you"
 In few minutes he was standing in Henry Sawdust's cheerful parlor talking to the faithful wife, and learning from her lips the story of their poverty and suffering. "Would you like to see my husband ?" she said, leading the way to the little bedroom.
 The sick man stirred uneasily on his cot as they entered, and feebly murmur- ed: "Ah! do my eyes deceive me! Can this be my old friend, MT. Johnson, o1 Elmira? ?''
 The stranger turned aside and wiped his eyes. .'
 Madam" he said, .'I have been the president of Hartford insurance com. pany for twenty years, but this sight has completely unnamed me. And to think of your two innocent babes not having any Christmas presents! We'll, it shall never be said of Hiram Dusenbury that he didn't do at least one generous act in his life."
 He turned to the sick man and said gently:
 t'Yes, am MT. Johnson, of Elmira and I met you at your uncle's bank Hush! do not try to speak, for you art not strong enough yet. l want golc brick-I dealin 'em when Pm home; and I want to see the prize you've drawn 1T the lottery, and the picture you painted in Paris. And when you're better vel see the town together. Meantime take this and credit me with the usual casl discount" .'
 He laid five crisp hundred-dollar bills on the coverlet, then grasped his carpet bag and departed before Mary Sawdust could collect her scattered senses. at
 And on Christmas day the childrer gathered about the beautiful tree, an( gave thanks to the kind stranger who hao buncoed himself that they might be hap