The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1898-12-23

were so near.
81 can't take you to see It, he said in
low voico to the little son. There
there wouldn't be time.'
He was ashamed of the subterfuge as he
looked into Tony's innocent eyes, but
Tony was only half attending after all.
And Santa Claus?'' he said "Will he
como down the chimney to give me
things, as he did you when you were a lit
tie boy"
Really, Tony, we must look after your
English. Chimney. indeed You know
better than thatv'
"It don't matter, p" said Tony fearlessly.
will he come down it-that's what 1
wants to know?''
Not down attic chimneys, I'm afraid
said the father, with a sigh
"Oh-h, but in ut the door maybei Per
haps his sack would be too heavy for the
chimney He'll come all the way up
the stairs bump, bump, bumpity bump,
won't he? And 1 shall stop awake and
hear him.
Better not" said Guy rather sadly.
Santa Claus has forgotten US this year,
mamie He comes only to rich people"
q
aren't rich people, are we, daddy?"
Certainly not" answered the young
man. thinking Of the guinea a week which
he was accustomed to receive on treasury
day. Not precisely rich. Tony, but not
paupers-yet.
The bitter accent in his voice was caused
by vivid remembrance of some words
that the angry old father had once address
ed to him. You need not darken my
door again, sir. and when you and your
wife are paupers don't think that you will
get money out of mol" The word pau
pers" always recalled the bitterness of that
moment to his mind.
whats paurers9' said Tony. Then in
an abstracted tone, 81 suppose Santa Claus
always came to the big house where you
lived?'
II suppose he did.
"And does he come still?''
"If there were any children there. dare
say he would
"OhP" said Tony, with a very solemn
face. Then he said no more, but sat mo-
tioniess, looking thoughtfully at the op-
posite wall, while his father rose from the
| DeQ anu D6BdH W OuSy H1iHSe11 dDOub NdrI-
Gus household matters, which might have
seemed to an observer almost pathetic
! when done by the clumsy fingers of man.
! Not that Guys fingers were clumsy; they
had all the delicacy of the born musician
and the gentleness of a woman, and it
came quite naturally to him to build Ip
the fire, hang Tony's flannel nightgown
before it, warm some bread and milk for
the child and finally make and drink cup
of strong tea before he went back to the
orchestra.
GOOD night, Tonyi Go to bed soon,
there's good boyl Shall unfasten your
clothes?"
"No thank you. daddy I'ze not 6
baby" said Tony, with dignity. And
Guy went away laughing at this manifes
tation of infantile pride. He had little
enough to laugh at, and it was gooC
thing for him that Tony's smiles anC
frowns and baby wiles as well as thC
child's innate genius for music kept hi.
heart from growing hard. The amused
light was still in his eyes when he reached
the theater, but it would soon have dieC
away had he known what Tony was doin6
while he was gone
"It's a dreat pity" Tony soliloquizet
as he ate his bread and milk when his ia
ther's steps had died away-''it's a drea
pity that Santa Claus does not come Il
poor little boys as well as rich ones.
s'pose he'll never think Of coming here
but If lived in the house where dadd!
used to live he'd come, because daddy sale
If there were any children there-oh,