The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1895-12-25

I ureW Deultiu screen ana Threw hinl-
self into an easy chair. He heard Mrs.
Murray come in after awhile, but she
only moved about softly and decorously
setting things in order, and he did not
speak. She was just passing into the
sitting room when she gave little cry
of alarm, followed by the exclamation
"Mercy me, child. How you fright
ened mer'
"Mrs. Murray" said a thin little
voice-a voice that Mr.. Roberts had
heard before-'Tve come up here TO
stay all night ~
The listener behind the screen heard
Mrs. Murray fall into chair and again
she cried, "Mercy mer'
al just had to come :" the eager voice
went on Mothers very, very sick
and she needs things, Mrs. Murray
and maybe Santa Claus might bring
'em if he knew-and how is he to know
when he never comes there? But
knew if / went to some fine house he'd
come and find me, and so / came
here"
''Poor child Poor child ~
Mrs. Murray had gathered the little
waif TO her bosom and was rocking her
softly to and fro. The old gentleman
behind the screen could see that by the
shadow on the floor. He could see,
too, that the housekeeper was furtively
wiping her eyes.
Presently she rallied and said cheer
lily:
'Ill tell you what we'll do Marjorie.
I'll go right down and see your moth
er, and you shall go with me, and, who
knows, maybe Santa Claus will come
there, after all.n
'Oh, no, he won't ~ replied the child
with sorrowful conviction. "You don't
know that place Santa Claus has
never heard of it He goes to rich peO-
pies houses, and so rve come here, and
| must see him to-night-oh, must,
Mrs. Murray / don't care for any
other Christmas after this, bat | must
see him tonight, on mothers account,
you know"
There was a dismal silence on Mrs.
Murray's part, but presently she said
"Well, come along in Mr.. Roberts
study-thank goodness he's away from
home-and sit here before the fire till
come back. I'll take john and go down
and see your mother"
In another minute the sound of her
retreating footsteps had died away,
and the old gentleman, peeping from
behind the screen, saw little figure
sitting before the fire, gazing intently
into the glowing Goals.
Dusk was settling down over the city.
He had not been conscious of it until
the electric burner above his table fash
ed into sudden radiance. The flash !
fteSiln4 sbarri ri.iis5ut: I, fIati w,rs' siTe |
doing? Preparing to steal something !
probably. These children from the |
tenement districts were all thieves.
But, no, When he ventured to look [
again, she was at the study table-his !
She had his sacred
pen, which no other mortal had ever
dared to touch, and she was writing
slowly and laboriously. Could pre-
go farther than that? What
would these people be trying to do
next?
1t took her long time to write the
letter, but at last il was finished, and
she laid the pen down with weary
sigh. Then she unrolled little bum
die that had been lying beside her and
shook out-could the watcher believe
his eyes "a stocking, poor, forlOrn,
ragged little stocking. Now what
could she want with that?
She stood on tiptoe and peered around
the corner of the mantel for place to
hang it. Finally something struck
her fancy as suitable, and she began
pushing a heavy chair toward the
mantel. When it was near enough,
she climbed upon it and hung the
stocking upon the "brave caduceus" Of
the bronze Mercury that he had bought
last year in Rome and for which he
had paid such price
Presently she had jumped down and
was surveying the stocking with the
greatest pride. Then the note was
carefully folded, and she climbed upon
the chair again and pinned the folded
paper TO the toe so conspicuously
that the winged Mercury seemed to
stand there for no other purpose than
to hold up ragged stocking for all the
world to see.
And then-why, then she was lying
down upon the rug with her thin cheek
on her thin little hand, and the listener
heard tired sigh.
After a long while the old gentleman
behind the screen ventured to move
slightly. After little longer he NOV
cd and so gradually came out of his
hiding place.
Was that old Mr.. Roberts tiptOeing
across the room to keep from startling
the poor little waif sleeping on his
hearth rug? Was that the sordid old
man whom even his friends had come
to call a mere money machine, the
man whose hands trembled as he un-
pinned the little note and spread it out
before him?
DEAR SANTA CI.AUs-When you
come tonight pleas look at me, I'll be
down on the rug. You've never seen
me before. You needent give me en-
nything, but pleas fill the stocking
with Things for mother shes sick. 1
tied up the toes so they wouldent drop
out. The doctor says wine and things
and houserent.
MARJORIE HOLMES.
For long time the old man sat in
the chair before the fire. Something
within him was breaking the cold and
selfish crust that years had help TO
form. He sat there looking from the
sleeping child to the forlorn stocking
and frcn the stocking to the child. Ii
was the first time n stocking had ever
been hung up in his house-the first
time.
Suddenly the old gentleman rose.
He lifted the child gently and laid her
on couch which had always been
sacred to his own nse and covered her