Morris tribune., 1897-03-10
THE RETIRED BURGLAR.
a Very Singular Experience on the Night
Before Christmas.

Be1Ore christmas.
Speaking of Christmas, said
the retired burglar, always makes
me think of a very singular expes
rience | had one Christmas eve
when I'd started out with the idea
OF picking up a few little things for
the children. / came across a house
IN the suburbs that Fad its outside
cellar door open. 1t was one of those
sloping, outside cellar doors, the
Kind children like to slide down on
You We seen them no doubt 1t was
showing like all possessed and had
been, all night, and blowing, too,
and the snow had drifted round the
corner of the house where the cellar
door was and blown down through
the open door into the cellarway
and filled it half full.
I should think down to the bot
tom the snow was 2 or 3 feet deep.
| slipped going down the steps and
fell the rest of the way, but it was
like falling into a bed of snow; it
didn't hurt me a bit and it didn't
make any noise.
Il got the inside cellar door open
without much trouble, and stepped
inside. | was just covered with
snow, and | suppose ought to have
shook it off before going up stairs,
where the carpets was, but [ didn't.
| kept right along. There was an
other door, at the head of the inside
cellar stairs the stairs from the
first floor to the cellar and l got
through that all right, and from
that door through another door into
the front hall Of the house, ready
for business.
I turned the knob of the parlor
door very gently, SO as not to disturb
anybody in the house, and opened
the door very quietly into a room
that was brightly lighted and check
full of people, men, women and chill
dren, all sitting still as mice and
all sitting with their eyes just glued
on the door I was coming in at It
seemed as though they all held their
breaths for about half a minute
when they saw me coming in, and
then they all began to laugh and
hurrah and clap their hands and
make the greatest hullabaloo you
ever heard Of, and I suppose that
with my old ulster on, with a cord
around the middle, and my wooden
cap and all covered with snow from
head to foot and with q bag over
my shoulder that I'd brought along
to carry the horses and carts,
Noah's arks and things like that
home in, I looked about as much
like Santa Claus as anybody you
ever saw.
But the applause wasn't going
to last forever. Iknew that | bow
ed and smiled and bowed and
smiled, but I was backing out all the
time And when I'd got back a step
or two, I jumped back to~make for
that cellar door again and bunked
into somebody in the hall. I looked
around out of the corner of my eye
and saw I'd bunked into the real
Santa Claus, coming down from up
stairs or somewhere and making for
the door that I'd just opened,
Standing in the hall close by the
parlor door, there was hatrack
with a million overcoats and wraps
on it, the pegs all full and piled up
IA deep, and with about II beaver
hats and Al derbies on top of that,
I could see the real Santa Claus
glazing at me- Whether he thought
I was somebody playing trick and
robbing him of the glory of being
Santa Claus, or what, I don't know,
but 1 knew something had got to be
done, and in about a second I bounced
him around against the hatrack. It
was leaning forward with the
weight on it already, and the next
minute Santa Claus was on the floor
and covered about three feet deep
with cloaks and overcoats, with the
hatrack on top of that, and beaver
hats and derbies prancing and Slam
ming around everywhere. Then it
was time for me to go sure. The
whole parlor was making for the
door into the hall. I hadn't more
than got started down the cellar
stairs before the hall was swarming
with them. / could hear them scuf-
fling about on the floor overhead as |
went on out through the open cellar
door. New York Sun.
what Is Realism?
DR.. Hirsch, in his lucid work,
Genius and Degeneration, = in
which he confutes not alone Nor
1au, but in certain measure LON
broso, gives a clear understanding
IF what in art is realism: