The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1902-06-06

ginger-cakes every year for Toms home
comm, an then had to send 'em TO the
Orphan Asylum over at Wallingford
Now, this year l calc'late Toms goin' to
eat EN- himself"
Its only two days till Christmas" Ho-
mer said, slowly. You ought to be hear
in from him whether he's comm. I'm
goin' to the postoffice. I'll see if there's
letter for you"
mo, Homer. don't" said Grandma,
hastily. I'D rather not have It till the
last thing. You know. il he shouldn't be
comm | won't have anything to look for.
ard to, an If he is, my cakes an pies are
all baked. All I've got to do now is to
shine the andirons over in the settin
room, an put up some greens TO make 1t
seem Christmassy. | wouldn't have the
heart to finish, Homer, If knew he
wasn't comm" She was still smiling,
but TREMENDOUSLY.
"All right. Gran'ma." he said. with a
great effect of cheeriness in his voice;
but I'm like you, I'm positive Toms
comm"
yes. I'm most sure Wen see him this
time; but If there's letter, Homer. don't
bring 1t. Peter Crump always brings it
up to me as he goes home on Christmas
eve"
Homer climbed into his gathering old
spring wagon, and with the lines tapping
loosely on the gray mares back he let her
take her own gait down the long street.
Arriving at the postoffice, he exchanged
greetings with the few loungers gathered
around the stove, sat down on a cracker
box chewed a broom straw, and gazed
nj otr ~ cd ha 1frfu
Want your mail. Homer" the post
master inquired, when there came a lull
in his duties.
Homer got up from the cracker box to
receive his copy Of the Scarborough
Weekly Argus. He held it first in one
hand, then in the other, hesitating. The
last lounger shuffied away from the fire
and out the door Homer reused to in
slant life.
Say! Got any letters for Gran'ma Dor
kins?" he asked
"One from Tom. Guess he amt comm
this year, same as ever"
Gee whutsv' Homer exclaimed-it was
his nearest approach to swearing-"if
Tom Dorkins don't come home this
Christmas 'twon't be because Homer Fox
amt going to do his best to fetch him.
Toms got to be a regla high-fyer,"
observed the postmaster. Has his pri-
vate car an all that sort O. thing
ITO see that poor OF soul havin' faith
in his comm year in an year out, an
never shown hair nor hide O. himself!'
Homer broke in, excitedly. "It's more'n
flesh an blood can stand. Gimme
pasteboard box, Peter Crump, one big
enough to hold these" He unwrapped
the cakes Grandma Dorkins had given
him and laid them on the counter. There!
If Tom Dorkins has got piece of a heart
hid away anywhere them cakes'll make
him own It,"
HE writes to her sometimes an sends
her money" Peter Crump said, as he
brought an assortment OF boxes.
/ Huh! What's money to her when she
wants him. Homer said, with scorn, Sc
lecting a box and trying the cakes, to
see II they would fit. "Lemme have pen
an ink an a sheet O paper"
He wasn't much of a scribe, and he
sucked the top Of the pen frequently as
he wrestled with his problem. Finally
II was done, and he held it off at arms
length, surveying 1t with pride. This is
what he had written;
Tom Dorkins, for nine years your
mother has baked these cakes for your
Christmas homecoming. because you lik-
ed them when you was boy. Has she
got to send them to the WallingfOrd
Orphan Asylum this year. same as al
ways, on account OF your not thinking
enough Of her to come?
"HOMER FOX"
"If that don't bring Tom Dorkins moth
ing will" he said. conviction in his voice.
His epistle was spread over the cakes.
the lid tied on securely, stamped and ad-
dressed. while Peter Crump winked at so
fragrant 2 violation Of postal laws under
his very nose.
On the morning Of the day before
Christmas, as the general manager Of the
Pocomoke and Westhaven Railroad was
caught by small package lying unopened
upon his desk
Nearly forgot that thing again" he
said. 1T came last night and | went
home without it. Here, Phil" he called
to his secretary, open this package. and
il it requires an answer fix up the polite
thing"
When he returned some hours later the
package was still on his desk, apparently
unopened.
II thought I told you to open this and
see if it needed an answerr' he said,
sharply.
Il did open it. Mr.. Dorkins, but you
are the proper person TO answer it," the
stenographer replied in curious tone.
Mr.. Dorkins cut the string around the
pasteboard box. tinge Of Impotence in
his manner. Lifting the lid, Homer's
Daipstaking scrawl was exDosed 20 Wow