Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1895-12-18
MISS MARSH AND BOOTS

Christmas was at hand in the village
Of Marshdown, and everyone was ready
for it. That is, almost everyone. Mr.
Grimes himself, in at the store, wore as
smiling countenance as ever fell to the
lot Of man.
Lit was amusing to watch Mr.. Grimes
hastily glance over at the store door
whenever it's latch ratified, and, if he did
not see the head of the newcomer at a
certain distance above the latch, cry out
christmas giftr' 1t was necessary to
do this as q protection against the small
boys of Marshdown, to whom he would
have been held pledged for a gift if he
had not said the words before they did
1t was also amusing to witness the
sheepish looks upon the small boys faces
when they were thus saluted; for they
had no intention in the world to bestow
Il gift upon Mr.. Grimes.
There were two people in Marshdown
who were not ready for Christmas. Miss
Marsh was one, and Boots Mooney was
the other.
Miss Marsh was a very prim little old
lady-the only 'lady" in Marshdown.
Marshdown looked up to her, notwith-
standing her limited means
1T WAS pleasant to so into her trim lit
Ele parlor and sit down within the range
of her understanding flowers, and listen
to her mockingbird singing it's curious
songs. And when anyone was in trouble,
it was comforting to go then, too, though
he might not have the heart either to
smell the flowers or to listen to the bird.
Miss Marsh was never chary with COM
forting words: she had seen SO much
trouble herself that she knew exactly
how to sympathize with it in others.
But this Christmas the whole Of
MarShd0Wn-that is nearly the whole
of twas enjoying itself to such won
derful degree that Miss Marsh as a
CONSIDER was altogether in the wrong
neighborhood
Mrs Wells, who lived in the big brick
house which Miss Marsh's father had
built when he owned all the land there
about, was going to have public Christ
mas tree. The children of Marshdown
and the children's parents of Marsh
down were IN a genuine flutter of delight
over the idea. Little trees, with a few
candles and candies. were common
enough: but Mrs. Wells tree was in
tended to dazzle all eyes. The lady had
not attempted to keep it a secret, and the
JOY of anticipation was certainly without
bounds
Miss Marsh sat alone in her pretty
parlor, gazing out through her flowers
at the house on the hill. Once she had
had Christmas tree there, too, ever
SO long ago. She had sent out into the
highways and byways and gathered in
all the children that could be found
She smiled over the memory of it.
How eager she had been and how fear
fU that there wouldn't be children
enough to consume the little colored
bags of candy! And how her father had
laughed When the crowd came trooping
in4
There was to be another Christmas
tree III the dear old room, and she was
not to be there. Why, what very fool
ash person she had become, to care for
such 8. little thing as that! If Mrs.
Wells had thought she wished to come
she brushed her hands over her eyes
Quickly and laughed TREMENDOUSLY. What
Il very, very foolish old person she was!
se But Eve minutes later Miss Marsh,
still gazing out through her flowers, but
beyond the brick house and over the
halls, acknowledged frankly to herself
that she did not wish to go to Mrs.
Wells Christmas tree. and that she
would have refused politely an invita-
ton. She concluded that was the reason
why the invitation had not come.
Her mocking bird began to sing wildly
and gladly. It's voice filled the little
Toom-such little room that it never
could have held the beautiful tree which
she iOnged to set up.
Suddenly Miss Marshs vision mar
rowed and centered itself upon the fig
ure of a small boy advancing down the
road. There was an extremely indiffer-
ent air about the boy that keen-eyed
individual would certainly declare was
assumed.
Once he turned and glanced back at
che big house, and when he continued his
1eisurely gait he forgot just how boys
face must appear when he is DESTROYS of
showing all the world how very little he
cares
Ever so long ago, it seemed to this T.
gear-old boy, he had lived in a neat
little wooden house, which had since had
its windows nailed up and been con-
verted into the warehouse attached to
The store.
His life had been altogether a different
thing to him then. A Christmas day in
that little house was the happiest of all
lais happy memores-that day when he
found his little red-topped boots standing
S3y the fireplace. Everyone had made
had begun to call him Boots.
Boots could remember walking on the
s4orecounter, so that all men could see
how very pretty were the red tops and
brass toes. His mother had laughed at
his new name, and late that Christmas
night had walked UP, saying, ever SO
softly. Come little Boots, you must Lei
nle take them off,"
The name was the only one that was
Teft-that and these. He knocked his
big feet clumsily together feeling the
little feet grow hot inside. The men in
Marshdown generously gave him thei1
old boots, and he had to wear them
Everyone said they were quite good
enough for him. and that he ought to be
glad TO get them. But he was neither
glad nor grateful.
Boots felt himself very disreputable
specimen of boyhood with all this weight
of thanl1lessness upon his heart, as his
DIG boots and his little feet shutf1ed along
on this beautiful Christmas day.
He lived outside the village with {
farmer named Mead. 1t was a gooC
nome. but he was not grateful for tina
either.
Boots thoughts were running. as h
neared Miss Marsh'S trim palings-''it
Christmas day. an | amt thankful TO
that neither
els that you, Boots?
The boy started and gave a swallow be
fore he answered. "Yesm."
Hasn't Mrs. Wells invited you to he
Christmas treeT
Boots swallowed twice before he said
%eNo'm' and then-it must have been tn
HFapcb'c bat