The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1902-12-20
SOMEBODY'S SANTA CLAUS.

To die at dawni And the tale he told would have
melted heart like mine;
But our captains features were stern and cold
with never a sOftened line.
Grimly he listened, and shook his head when
we'd heard the story through,
Then slowly, with face unmoved, he said my
man, that tale won't do"
Three years of war with a cunning foe had quick
ened suspicious breath;
In this dread game, single throw oft meant de-
So the man they captured that Christmas Eve,
hid in the wood near by,
Though tale told he one could well believe,
must meet the fate of spy.
II was trying to reach my home," said he, "I
stole from our camp today;
Twas so very near that it seemed to me could
not stay away
The orders were Strict, but 1 disobeyed-mine
was not a coward's flight
1 knew twas risk, but was not afraid meant
to get back tonight.
my wife is dead.' He looked away, then fol-
lowed an awkward pause.
But the babies-well, every Christmas day, they
expect old Santa Claus
1 wanted to see them all once more; I've got
them some Christmas toys"
He glanced at his pitiful meager store, then ap-
pealingly at the boys.
Poor careless wretches that we were, we'd been
rGgfatty SAY w9ongh till then;
never behold again.
And all were grave, a stiffness crept through the
revel of army life,
AS each one thought of vigil kept by mother,
sweetheart or wife.
And hushed were the laugh and merry Jest;
soon, almost without sound,
Each, wrapped in blanket sought his rest on the
bare and frozen ground.
Exhausted, the men soon fell asleep, while all
For to me it fell watch to keep on the man con-
demned to die.
was sorely troubled that Christmas night;
seemed to see his home,
And the little faces, eager and bright that looked
for the morn to come.
thought of my dear ones far away, and bygone
peaceful joys;
looked at the man who must die next day-he
was clasping those pitiful toys
whispered something: the wretched man made
eager and low reply;
knew twas terrible risk I ran II he were in
deed spyl
But felt that the story he told was true, and
did what thought was right;
Somewhere, my own dear little one too looked
for Santa Claus that night.
We stole from camp, and through the wood he
silently led the way,
Till at length, in the shadows before us, stood
farmhouse old and gray.
Save the creak of gate that idly swung, un-
barred by the winds at will,
And a light where broken shutter hung, all
else was dark and still.
The window revealed simple room, and we saw
in the f1relight's glow
Meath high dark mantel, half hid in gloom,
three stockings hung in row.
An old man sat in great arm chair, while gath
Repeating softly their evening prayer, hands
clasped were children three.
Grandpa, good night They kissed his cheek.
"You mustn't look sad,'' they said.
The old man smiled, but did not speak as he
stroked each curly head.
Don't think Santa Claus won't come tonight.
Why, he never did treat us so!
He isn't afraid of the men that fight, they
wouldn't hurt him, you know"
My companion groaned, turned away it was
than could bear.
l strobe down the path that in shadow lay, and
left him standing there.
Time passed 4; perhaps twas an hour or more, the
light at the window died;
He softly opened the unlatched door-I waited
alone outside.
Did l fear he would try to escape2 Not II He
knew 'twould mean death to me;
1t would be my fate next day to die II were to
set him free.
All this knew, but my heart was sore offered
He shook his head, and we turned once more to
the camp in the vale below.
At dawn volley rang sharply out, but more
than one man fell;
The enemy charged with triumphant shot, mid
the scream of shot and she'll.
Surprised, confused, we at first fell back, then
rallied our flag around;
Again and again met their grim attack, but
stubbornly held our ground
The battle was neither lost nor won when we
rested that Christmas day;
Red, in the glare of the setting sum- the field of
carnage lay.
And here, once more, at that long days close,
we met on the CORY plain,
In the pause of battle, no longer foes, Blue and
Gray, to bury our slain.
Heaped where they bravely fought and died,
they lay on the frozen earth,
Whose names that night would be spoken beside
full many genial hearth
1 found him lying apart from the rest. the man
we condemned to die,
Stiff and cold, wound in his breast-as soldier
he fell, not spy.
AS we buried him there in the waning light,
thought of the little row
OF childish faces, eager and bright revealed by
the f1relight's glow.
Rude was his grave and our prayers were few in
that brief grim battle pause;
His name unspoken, l only knew he was some
body's Santa Claus.
Minnie Reid French