The Coconino weekly sun., 1894-12-20
heard my prayers and would answer

] S | the mother replied. But for your sweet, cheering words would give up all hope and pray God to take us both home to your angel papa We have | only God to look to in our troubles, daughter, and we must not lose our faith in the dear Saviour whose birth will be celebrated all over the world | tomorrow"
 70, mamma, is tomorrow Chris -" The little one had looked up with a quick, hopeful glance, then as she checked the speech upon her lips shade of pain swept over her face and her eyes dropped. The mother caught the changing expression on the little ones features, and her heart swelled almost to bursting, as the tears came anew into her swollen eyes. | 70, mamma, don't-please don't" Midget pleaded. "I don't care about Santa Claus and won't hang up n single stocking, for l know he would never come to hunt me in this far away place. He will look for me back at home, and, when he finds l am gone, will give my presents to some little poor girl"
 "Yes, you do care, Midget, darling, but in your brave little soul you try to hide your disappointment that it may | not grieve mamma. No, darling, fear good Santa Claus will not find you this time, as he has done every other Christmas since your birth, and it breaks my heart to think you must be so neglected"
 Don't you mind it bit, mamma, for just ain't going to care. If you will only smile and look happy like you used to, it will please me more than anything good old Santa could bring me in his great pack" The mothor drew the little one to her bosom and kissed her fondly, and she started when a deep sigh, which Midget tried in vain to repress, escaped from the baby's breast. Her face wore look of desperate resolution as she released | her loved one and said:
 Midget, darling, you wlll hang up | your little stockings tonight, as you have always done, and gool Santa Claus may come here when he visits the few children in this dreary Sown. I somehow feel that he will do so, and when you go to bed tonight you must ask God in your prayers to tell the | good children's friend where you are. | He may find you, darling, but if he | does not you must not grieve too greatly over it. Mamma is going out | for little while, and you must stay close to the stove and try to keep | warm until she gets back. will go to the post office, and may hear from the Denver manager to whom I wrote for an engagement. Good-by, baby, and try to think that Santa Claus may find you, even in this cheerless place."
 If the thin muslin wall which sep arated her room from the adjoining one had vanished Mrs Maynard would have seen sitting near it great big, rough miner, with tears sparkling like diamonds in his honest eyes. She did not know that, as she left her room, Big John" Rogers, as he was known, quietly arose and followed her from the house and wadcd after her through the deep snow in the street.
 He saw her enter the post office, and q few minutes later come forth again with a look of distress and disappoint- ment on her face. She raised her eyes to look about her, and he noticed that they were full of tears, but, when just across the street, they encountered three gilded balls. her face frightened and she seemed about to start toward them. Then q cloud of pain swept over her features and she stood with bowed head, as if irresolute. She stood thus for several moments, then her lips compressed, and, rapidly cross ing the street, she entered the pawn brokers shop.
 Big John" read the story at a glance. Some cherished keepsake was going, in order that her baby daughter might not miss the expected visit from Santa Claus-and how dear that keepsake must be, for what an effort it required to bring herself to the determination to part with it. The warm heart of the miner was yet swollen from the conversation which he had heard be- tween the motber and daughter, and he crossed over to tender his assist ance, when the shop door opened and the woman came forth. Addressing him, she said:
 "Can you tell me, sir, if there is D shop or store in the town where toys and candies are kept? Such things as children like for Christmas, you know?"
 The great-hearted miner was about to tell her that he had overheard her conversation with her little girl, and that she must go right back to the house out of the cold and have no fear that Santa Claus didn't know his busi- ness, but her pretty, intelligent face, musical voice and air of quiet refine ment awed him, and he feared a ten der of assistance and a confession that he had been eavcsdropping might of- fend her, so he bluntly answered:
 "Yes ma'am, the big store right where you see that awnin' packs all sich truck"
 She thanked him and walked hur- riedly away, and the miner entered the pawnshop.