The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1899-12-27

NJ "'S"', py way vi CnanSe, conclude
II make his annual trip with bcrrd
three weeks growth, or even a smooth
shayen face. Further than that |
coulden't under the circumstance
blame Little Hank for looking upon n
G strangers with an eye of suspicion; b,
d he thought the chances Of popping h
gaze on Santa Claus by daylight wei
4 extremely small. Several millions ,
boys, in different parts of the worlt
Hai been Keeping their eyes open f,
I Years without avail, and there ha
t come to be a popular belief that tn
| jolly fellow with the rcindeers trayele
principally in the dark.
"Thats the way he hit this ranc
last Christmas, apd l reckon he left
till aoout the last ranch on his rounds,
remarked the boy. "lle didn't leav
me thing that | wanted-nuthln' bu
little tin wagon and pound of candy
Say, mister. dye reckon Santa Clau
ever hand. as windchestcrs?"
The appearance of the elder Hanl
Grimm spared Wells the necessity O.
answering this difficult qu,ty. The
owner OF the "Two Boot rancho was :
man well advanced in years, and pos
sesscd of sturdy, erect figure, square.
cut features and sky-blue eyes, that
told at once Of German ancestry and OF
past sci vice in the armies of the old
| world or the new. He welcomed the
| traveller heartily, directed him how to
dispose of his horses fol the night, and
then abruptly turned away and entered
the house. Little Hank remained be-
hind and, in his quaint, boyish way.
supcrintended Wells every movement.
A covey of quail that had been for
aging in the vicinity of the crib flushed
at their approach and settled in the
prairie grass short distance away.
Little Hank clamored to have one of
them killed for his Christmas breakfast.
and TO please him, OH their return to
the buggy, Wells slipped couple of
bird loads IN his Parker, and, when the
covcy rose again, grasscd three plump
beauties with hasty double shot. The
boy was in perfect ecstasies over bis
success.
"That's bettcr'n you could do with a
windchester," he remarked, in a tone
dcnoting that he considered thi. the
height of possible praise, "Gran'paw
says shotgun is no good but reckon
1t depends heap on who shoots it. |
never seed but one before, and it wasn't
wuth shucks. 1t belonged to man
from Arkansaw, and he couldn't hit
the broadside Of II mule"
The Travellers effects were soon
transferred to the living room of the
ranch, where he was introduced to the
ranchman's aged wife, and found that
the only occupants Of the place were
themselves and their precocious grand
son. Grimm was Germon of the old
school with true Teutonic ideas of
comfort, and it seemed that unusual
preparations for the evening meal had
been made in honor of his visitors. All
in the way of food that the ranch could
offer was on the table, and, surmount-
ing the array Of snowy biscuits, ham
and eggs, juicy steak and canned fruit,
stood group of ancient glass dccantcrs,
their contents shining in a gradation of
colors from deep red to straw yellow.
Little Hank seemed To look upon his
share OF the feast as an especial treat,
and after it was disposed of his tongue
ran more glibly than ever. At length
his grandsire suspended for moment
morsel of beef raised to his mouth,
and uttered word of reproof.
"Henry, my boy, it is not right that
the children should talk and the grown
ones listen. Remember, you should be
very good tonight, They say that
Santa Claus to bad boys is not kind"
"But see," retorted the lad quickly.
~ was good before and what did he
bring me? Nothing. wan ed a wind.
chester and he brought me tin wag-
on."
"The child would be man before
his time" put in his grandmother. "He
talks of nothing but guns; and if he
had them he would kill us all, and him.
self in tho bargain"
81 would be brave soldier-like nv
father" said the boy, his eyes filling
with tears.
"And be killed by the Indians, as
was he," responded the old ranchman.
"My child, the. Grimms have been SOL
diers since the earliest days. / have
fought, in my time, with brave men to
lead me on TO battle, and | tell YOU
there is nothing in soldiering-nothng
but hard work and slavery and blood
shed and death. 1t is dosg' life :
nothing more"
LATER in the night, when Wells and
Little Hank were snugIy slowed away
in the latter's bed, the question of
Santa Claus and the "wind ches ester''
came up again, but no lengthy discus
siou followed.
1t must have been sometime after
midnight when Wells was partially
aroused by the knowledge that some
one was moving in the room, and called
out to know who it might be.
"Nobody but me-Hank Grimm
| Not gran'paw, but the little one. You
know" But that was quite enough
for tho somnolent gentleman from
San Antonio. If the sentence wa,
finished he failed to hear its conclusion
Sometime afterwards, however, b,
was aroused again; and this time sc
thoroughly that he heard and under
stood the words that awoke him. The,
evidently came from the "liying room
into which his apartment opened, an,
were uttered at the top Of Little Hank
childish troble.
"Thar now, Santa Claus. I've Qo
!, you this time, and either that wind
4 - 49,. n