The Washington weekly post., 1900-12-25
BY LYDIA FELICIA PERKINS

BY LYDIA FELICIA PERKINS
The Banker. the Real Estate Magnate,
and the Merchant sat smoking their e.
gars together two evenings before Christ
mas al The Three Score Club They had
reached their three score and something
over; ssgaeIous. prosperous franeiers.
who lad never done a foolish thing ana
Eere grlzzled and dignlhed As their eyes
waxed fiIny over the good cigars. the
Banker suddenly chpckled 10 himself The
other two raised their eyes 20 him. but as
he still chuekled. and began shaking his
head, for sympathy his cronies began 10
chuckle, too.
ne muttered. what a happy. graceleSs
little deyilr'
THAT you were" the Merchant agreed
heartily.
What an unregenerate lot we were,
the Real Estate Magnate chinked in
Poor as MICE" he added slowly. The
others nodded.
You remember. Dam" resumed the
Banker. addressing the Merchant, you
lived on the next farm, and farms were
few and far between. Gene, there,
filHgihg gesture at the Real Estate Mag
nate. "he starved over in the town. Lord.
do you remember the unholy bates or
country grub he used 10 take on when
we'd have i'm out for the Christmas holi~
days? Speaking OF Christmas" They
all drew closer "Boys." said the Bank
er. tremulOusly. " I'd be willing TO swell
the majority right now If ] could be as
happy as | was as a boy-a youngster
there on the farm
The eyes OF the other two grew more
flmy, and they said solemnIy: .'Thats SO.
Jack"
The Merchant ashed his cigar careful
ly. and said in a low voice, the others
hanging on his words:
Poor as we were. yes But 70 see the
yellow evening closing in. The day be-
for Christmasi Mother used to discover
the kindlings were out, or the stock not
fed, or the henhouses left unlocked, and
knew she wanted me out OF the way
while she crowded my stocking fun OF
goodies. Time was" his voice fell still
lower, and his eyes frightened. as with
moisture, when ! believed in old SANITY
Right you are" came the husky chorus.
"Yes, and mother used TO tell me If
looked. Sanity wouldn't leave me any
thing, and / always believed mother-i be-
Seve in her still"
The three fnanciers unaffectedly wiped
their eyes, and loudly blew their noses.
The Real Estate Magnate was the rirst
to brave an interruption. Then the day
before Christmas here would come one OF
you boys with a big. green wagon, and
two big, jumping horses. You'd say you
had come in for some groceries, but was
always packed In. Boys, l won't be any
happier going through the golden gates
thsn / used to be when we went through
the big farm gates Christmas Eve when
we were youngsters. There, Dan. don't
you remember your mother standing In
the kitchen door, with her apron round
her head, telling us 10 hurry and feed
the horses, cause the buckwheat would
fall. Then we'd come into the kitchen,
hungry and cold, and wash out at the
sink, throwing water over one another,
getting boxed for it. Then your blessed
mother. knowing boys never got enough
10 eat in the towns. piling the good things
on me-"
You haven't forgot the real maple sirup
that went with the buckwheat," Dan put
in eagerly.
Nor the real country butter" Jack
supplied excitedly,
Then they drew back with unanimous
laughter:
I'VE were back there, sure enough"
Jack said wistfully.
al have an idea"
"Yes, Dan" They closed around again.
He paved at his thinning hair, looked
sheepishly at the eager faces, then blurt-
ed out boldly: well, suppose We try a
blufr at 1t again?'
''Yes?" in mystificatien.
well, you know? Play at being boys
again just this Christmas. Don't you
know? Go back to the farm, and just
act up to the thing. You see my old moth
er Is living. Somehow the years have
gone by so, and maybe I've overlooked
mother. Course you know I've sent her
things, but looked like / couldn't pull up
and run down there. Boys, this thing
Id give her a new lease of life. You
wouldn't mind playing the fool just once,
would you?"
He looked pleadingly at their red, work
ing faces.
''You blasted prodigal," the Real Es-
tate Magnate CALCULATED in a hoarse voice,
"Neglecting that dear. old mother of
yours. If you'd never remembered your
mother, you'd know what IL was to have
one. Why, man, I'd go to the end of the
world If had to crawl to see your moth
er again, who used TO mother a mother
less boy" He glared at the penitent Mer-
chant.
Il second the notion" the Banker Chin
ed in.
They left the city next morning. and II
was an hour by sun when they got out of
the train, and found the big farm wagon
waiting for them.
They were calling out to one another
about familiar landmarks as they passed
along, and Dan jumped down and swung
open the old farm gates before the driver
could. The other old boys waited till he
could meet his mother alone, then came
hustling in and were hugged by the old
lady.
She entered into the spirit of the thing
SO thoroughly that each one felt a bow
when she sent Jack of to shake down
fodder for the horses, Dan to lock the
hen-house, and Gene to split the kind
lipgs. He was so thoroughly imbued with
his part that when he mashed his finger
with the hatchet. he spat out a byword
lot thought of m forty years-"Gol darn
it"' Their there was the old mother stand
ing in the lighted kitchen door calling
them into supper.
Surely that was The old sink, and here
they were spiuttering and throwing the
water over one another, and the mother
scolding az thens. Then the same smoking
cakes. country butter. and homemade
maple syrup which were pressed on them.
the mother declaring that town boys
never get enough 10 eat And. maybe.
something in the fresh. country air, or
the old associations gave them appatites
they had lost when they left the farm.