Woodville Republican. (Woodville, Miss.) 185?-current, 1902-12-20

VA II l1Yered the pint OF milk ne
IN brought daily to the little
S house at the upper end of
Scarborough.
Old Mrs. Dorkins wiped her wet,
sospy hands on her checked Bingham
apron, and got the blue pitcher from
the shelf upon which it was sitting
HE amt quite sure" she answered;
che wants to come, he says, but seems
like something always happens at the
very last minute to keep him"
II see you're fixin' for him, anyhow.
What's them-mince pies?"
"Oh, yes, l fix for him every year. l
wouldn't like him to come an not find
everything ready. l don't give him up
till have to- Them's mince pies, an
these are dried-apple pies. Come
here" She opened the pantry door
and beckoned him in. 81 don't s'pose
you know what these are" she said,
with smile half deprecating, half sad,
lifting cloth from the bread-board.
He peeped over her shoulder. Gee
whuts!' he cried, explosively. "You
don't mean to say I've got to have
one o. them, Gran'ma Dorkins, sure's
my names Homer Fox! Horse gin
ger-cakes, by crackyl The very kind
you used to make when me an Tom
an Susy went to school to Aunt Lid
dy Jackson!"
Grandma Dorl1ins laughed, and
wrapped him up three of the big
brown cakes cut into some semblance
of horse with her pieknife. "There's
one for you, one for Susy, an one for
lii Jeff. Tell Susy l sent 'em to re-
mind her of old times. You an she
were sweethearts even when you used
to scuffle with Tom for a piece of his
ginger-cake."
Toms dom middlin' well, amt he,
grammar" Homer asked, making
start to go, but holding onto the back
door as he waited for her reply.
"Tom's dom splendid" the old wom-
an said, proudly. Hes way up in the
railroad business now"
TITS near on ten years since he was
home, amt it?"
Mine years this Christmas" she
corrected him. "He's been intendin'
to come for so long; but he's awfully
busy, Tom is, With so much response
bility he can't hardly ever leave"
"Took his wife to Europe last year,
didn't hep"
NUae rrI,av 1vos orona +hraa months
He wrote to me after they got back,
an said he thought for sure he was
goin' to get up that year, but now he
couldn't. l was real disappointed, for
I'd been most certain I'd have him here
last Christmas"
TITS likely he'll come this season."
Homer remarked, by way of comfort
Don't you know, I'm sort o. positive
he will" grandma said, frightening
"I've been disappointed often enough
before, but this time it's different
him not bein' home for so long-an' l
wrote him l hadn't been well lately
My rheumatic bothers me dreadful
this winter. Putin it altogether,
Homer, I'm bound Toms comm this
time"
Homer hitched at his faded over
alls, shut the door and then opened
it a crack. He couldn't find a word to
say.
Old Mrs. Dorkins laughed softly as
she wiped off the kitchen table. Don't
you ever tell, Homer; but I've baked
horse ginger-cakes every year for
Toms home-comin', an then had to
send 'em to the orphan asylum over at
Wallingford. Now. this year l cal
c'late Toms goin' to eat 'em himself"
Its only two days till Christmas"
Homer said, slowly. "You ought to be
hearin from him whether he's comm
I'm goin' to the post office. I'll see if
there's letter for you"
mo, Homer, don't" grandma said,
hastily. '1'd rather not have it till
the last thing. If he shouldn't be com
in l 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 it seem Christmassy. 1
wouldn't have the heart to finish, Ho-
mer, if l 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"
Eyes, I'm most sure Wen see him
shis time; but if there's a letter, Ho-
mer, don't bring it. Peter Crump al
ways 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 post office, he ex-
changed greetings with the few
loungers gathered around the stove,
sat down on cracker-box, chewed
up broom-straw, and gazed abstract
eddy at the dirty floor.
want your mail Homer?" the post
master inquired, when there came IulI
in his duties.
Homer got up from the cracker-box
to receive his copy of the Scarborough
q