The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1903-12-20
UNCLE SANS MULTI
COLORED CHRISTMAS
BY SARAH COMSTOCK.

Instead of a soft blanket of snow. thar.
is often a driving blizzard that is ter
rifying to the uninitiated. In Men
tana, Dakota and Idaho are the ereat
ranches where people tive as if there
were no other world. They are e.
isolated that they have to Jog tbeiD
memories to make sure of remember.
ing even Christmas when it comes
around.
The sheep ranches of Montana. are
the bleakest places in the world. Tho
ranch house stands alone, surroundaJ
by miles of snow that seems to reach
to infinity. The life of a sheep rancher
is not happy one. He is looked down
upon by otehr ranchers.
On one of these ranches a little girl
lived-the only child for miles and
miles. She played with a favorite
lamb. Her only book was an old
story book that some traveller had left
In it was a story Of Christmas and
the turkey figured prominently.
What does it mean about the tur-
key?" she asked her father.
"Oh, it's a way they have back East
of eating turkey for Christmas dinner"
rs it good?"
YES"
cant we have a turkey?"
mo way to get one.''
Becky thought deeply, then she said.
IT know. Wen have beef for Christ
mas dinner. Promise"
Her father promised. This means
great deal to a sheep rancher. Day
after day, week after week, month aft
err month mutton constitutes the bill of
fare. Mutton stewed, roasted, fried
always mutton, until the palate wear
les. Beef is one of the rarest treats
imaginable.
For weeks little Becky thought of
the promise. She was a quiet little
body, and she kept her thinking to
herself. She talked to nobody except
the lamb about it.
I'm to have beef for Christmas
dinner-father promised" she told the
lamb.
She was fairly trembling with ex-
citement when she came to the table
on Christmas day. At last the roast
appeared.
Becky looked curiously at it.
''It looks like mutton" she said
at is mutton-why not?" responded
her mother.
Father promised" began Becky.
Then, in a flood of tears, she ran from
the room.
Great Scott, that's right" her faith
er exclaimed. I'D forgotten it was
Christmas. I did promise. By Jove,
she'll have 1t yet"
A storm was rising with gusts of
hurrying snow, but he started out. He
was bound to reach the nearest cattle
ranch.
The storm grew as the day wore on,
and it was nearly midnight when he
returned. Under his arm was a huge
cut of beef.
Come on, Marie, and roast it, he
shouted to his wife, beating the snow
off. We've got to have our Christ
mas roast as soon as we can. Better
late than never"
So Becky helped roast it, basting it
and shifting the fragrance of it, ard
the Montana family sat down to cele-
brate their Christmas when the clock
had already passed on to the next day.
Outside the four walls that the
world is accustomed to concede to
Uncle Sam, he has some big and little
folks who seem to belong to another
world. In Alaska, where SO much of
the year is night and snow and ice,
Christmas is a merry day to young
hearts in spite of what the inhabitants
of the states are used to call dreary
life there. Many a Christmas turkey
had been eaten from a tin can, but
Santa Claus manages to reach Nome
with his boxes of toys and goodies
that go by way of the slow steamer
journey.
But in Manila comes the greenest
Christmas of all, where, under a tropi-
cal sun, the boys and girls and their
elders in the army, for that matter
watch for the mails as If they were
cast on desert island and were watt
ing for ship to save them.