The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1902-12-31

Settle IL, III you WANT 10, somewhere
else"
l turned md wa. amazed to see old
man Nelson, who was very seldom
moved to speech.
There was II look of scorn or his
hard, iron gray face and of such set.
tied ierceness as made me quite be.
lievc the tales l had heard of his dead.
ly fights in the mines ut the coast. Be
fore any reply coull be made the min.
lister drove up and called out in a
CHEEKY voice:
merry Christmas, boys! Hello, San
dy. Comment ca va, Baptiste? How
do you do, Mr.. Graeme?"
"I'irst rate. Let me introduce my
friend, Mr.. Conner, sometime medical
student, now artist, hunter and tramp
| at large, but not a bad sort"
"a man to be envied," said the min
lister, smiling. 81 am glad to know any
friend OF Mr.. Graeme's."
l liked Mr.. Craig from the first. He
had good eyes that looked straight out
at you, n clean cut, strong face, well
set on his shoulders, and altogether
an outstanding, manly bearing. He in
sisted on going with Sandy to the sta
| piCo w Z DuLbS, hio plolShob Pun up.
Decent fellow" said Graeme; "but,
though he is good enough to his bron-
cho, 1T is Sandy that's in his mind
now"
docs he come out often? 1 mean
are you part of his parish so to
speak?"
81. have no doubt he, thinks so, and
Pm blowed If he doesn't make the
Presbyterians of us think so too" And
he added, after n pause: "a dandy lot
Of parishioners we are for any man.
There's Sandy, now He would knock
Keefc's head off as n kind of religious
exercise, but tomorrow Keefe will be
sober, and Sandy will be drunk as n
lord, and the drunken he Is the better
Presbyterian he'll be, to the preachers
disgust" Then, after another pause,
he added bitterly: "But 1t Is not for
me to throw rocks at Sandy. / am not
the same kind Of fool, but I am a fool
of several other Sorts"
Then the cook came out and beat q
tattoo on the bottom Of a dishpan.
Baptiste answered with q yell; but,
though keenly hungry, no man would
demean himself to do other than walk
"ith oPDotShl W lis DluCC
at the table. At the farther end of the
camp was a big fireplace, and from the
door to the fireplace extended the long
board tables, covered with platters of
turkey not too scientifically carved,
dishes of potatoes, bowls OF apple
sauce, plates Of butter, pies and smaller
dishes distributed at regular intervals.
Two lanterns hanging from the roof
and n row Of candles stuck into the
wall OH either side by means OF slit
sticks cast n dim, weird light over the
scene.
There was q moments silence, and,
at q nod from Graeme, Mr.. Craig rose
and said:
"I don't know how you feel about It,
men, but to me this looks good enough
to be thankful for"
"Fire ahead, sir" called out a voice
quite respectfully, and the minister
bent his head and said:
"For Christ the Lord, who came to
save US, for all the love and goodness
to us this Christmas night, our Father,
make us thankful. Amen"
"Bon! OATS fuss rate" said Bap-
tiste; Seems lax dat's make me hit
more better for sure"
And then no word was spoken for a
quarter of an hour. The occasion was
far too solemn and moments too pre-
cious for anything so empty as words,
but when the white piles Of bread and
the brown piles Of turkey had for q
second time vanished and after the last
pie had disappeared there came q pause
and a hush Of expectancy, whereupon
the cook and cookee, each bearing aloft
a huge. blazing pudding, came forth.
"Hooray!" yelled Blaney. up wild
YEP And, grabbing the cook by the
shoulders from behind, he faced him
about.
MI. Craig was the first to respond
and, selling the cookee in the same
way, called out:
Squad, fall in! Quick marchT'
In q moment every man was In the
procession.
"Strike up, Batchees, We little angelp'
shouted Blaney, the appellation q con-
cession to the minister's presence, and
away went Baptiste in a %rollicking
French song with the English chorus:
Inen dow, We WlndS, In the morning,
Blow, we winds. ay OIL
Blow. ye winds, In the morning,
Blow, blow, blowl"
And at each "blow' every boot came
down with a thump on the plank floor
that shook the solid roof. After the
second round Mr.. Craig jumped upon
the bench and called out:
"Three cheers for Billy the cook!'
In the silence following the cheers
Baptiste was heard to say:
Bon! OATS max me feel lax hit dat
puddin' all hup meself, me-"
"Hear till the little basteT' said Bla-
ney in disgust.
"Batchees," demonstrated SANDY
gravely, you've more stomach than
manners"
u sure, but de more stomach OATS
more better for dis puddin'," replied
the little Frenchman cheerfully.
After a time tho tables were cleared
and pushed back to the wall, and pipes
were produced. In all attitudes sug-
gestive of comfort the men disposed
themselves In a wide circle about the
fire, which now roared md cracked up
the great wooden chimney hanging
from the roof. The lumberman's hour
of bliss had arrived. Even old man
Nelson looked n shade less melancholy
than usrSsl as he sat ulone, well away