The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1903-12-13

We've done it. Jack, ever since
the firm was organized, and every
mothers son and daughter of 'em,
from foremen to stock boy, will be
looking for it. Besides, don't know
hut it will hurt our credit to have the
story get around that the firm Of Bor-
den, Cartwright G. Co., had failed, for
the first time in eight years, to treat
their employees at Christmas. It's
only the matter of five each for the
foremen. and candy for the rest
and"
1.-THE best answer / can offer your
rambling remarks, Jim, is to refer you
IN our books for the months of Sep
tember and October. I'll be hanged
if I'll add to the losses the expense
of this fool Christmas treat. 1 leave
Tomorrow night for st. Louis. The
Burrell Company is putting in shoe
department, and 1 want to cinch their
trade"
there"
Johnson was their Western man.
BORDEN frowned and snapped a rubber
hand viciously around a roll of papers.
II prefer to handle this deal my
self and take no chances. Some one
has got to hustle"
The implied suggestion of easy
tolerance fell lightly from James
Cartwright's shoulders. If his senior
partner was bound to give himself up
body and soul to the firms success
the Junior member would not stand
in his way. Secretly he was register
ing a vow to have Borden's mother
down for Christmas dinner. The
white-haired old lady, in her impress
sive but colorless apartment, had be-
come a pathetic figure to Jim Cart
wright and his sympathetic young
wife.
The pathos would have deepened
had he seen her the next evening at
dinner, when her son remarked care
lessly:
Have my bag packed by o'clock,
mother. I'm running out to st. Louis
for a few days"
The slender, deep-veined hands of
the little mother fluttered up to
straighten her lace cap. The fingers
touched the ribbon bows, but one arm
was carefully held to shadow her face.
Jack was always annoyed at the
sight of tears. Just then he was care
fully mixing the dressing for his
salad, and did not notice that it was
some time before she replied, hesitat-
ingly:
SBut day after tomorrow is Christ
mas, dear"
II know, I know" he answered rath-
err impatiently. "Jim Cartwright has
talked of nothing else for a week. But
you and l are old enough to have got
over such foolishness. Jim said some
thing about having you up to dinner,
and Mollie's chatter will keep you from
missing me-"
Il miss you every hour, every mo-
ment"
The words trembled on her lips, but
did not fall. She had long since ceased
to raise the slightest protest against
her sons business plans. But her salad
was taken away untouched, and good
hearted Irish Maggie impaired to the
cook the information that either the
blanc mango had been burned or Mr..
Borden was in one of his tantrums,
for the lady of the house had not eat
en- more than a spoonful of the des-
sert
And then they went into the library,
with its orderly array of shelves, Jacks
severe and well-appointed desk, and
the unfickering gas log. Somehow
that equable uniform flame seemed to
typify her whole life.
She took her regular position in the
square rocker. Her son took his
papers to the Morris chair, with
its leather upholstery. He liked
leather. 1t reminded him of the shoe
business, in which he was building up
fortune.
In her shadowy corner, reached but
family by the rays from the green
shaded student lamp, Mrs. Borden
rocked gently and dreamed. She
closed her eyes to the handsome room
which represented the best years of
her sons life. At least that was what
he said. To her the beautiful appoint
ments represented a blank in her life.
The best years Why. those were
the years when she and her husband,
with their golden-haired boy, had
lived in a small town in Western New
York. They all passed in review be-
fore her-the first trousers he had
worn, his first frightened, awesome
day in school, his torn clothes, his
smaller sorrows, his birthday treats,
MS Christmas trees, his well-filled
stockings! Yes, those had been the
pest days, before he had invaded the
big Massachusetts town, to make the
SHOES his father had been content to
sell. AS his business had grown, he
had passed more and more out of
her life. Surrounding her with every
comfort, giving her a liberal allow
ance, he felt his duty done. Himself
ne gave to the accumulation of wealth.
me review OF years seemed suddenly
10 gallop faster and faster Her head
dropped. A figure in soft white
draperies seemed to bend over her.
Inc face was the face of an angel,
ana voice murmured gently II
bring back your boy"
With a glad cry Mrs. Borden start
ed up and found her hot, trembling
hand clasped in the firm, cool one of
her son.
well, I am off, mother. The cabs
at the door, You've had a nice nap
Take good care of yourself until 1
get back"
And with perfunctory kiss he was
gone. Mrs. Borden's head dropped
again. and the tears fell freely.
Where are we, porter" demanded
Borden, waking to a sudden realiza-
uon that the train was not moving,
ana that daylight was streaming I'M
ger the curtain of his berth window.
!. Just east of Syracuse, sir" replied
the colored man. Your shoes will
De ready in minute, sir, and the first
eau for breakfast has been given,
SIR"
But what are we stopping here
Ior?' Borden demanded with the irri-
tation of interrupted rest. He could
never sleep or board train unless
the car was in motion.
:. Freight wreck, sir, Rear-epS coll
Hslon, and two men killed 81"
Too bad" said Borden, ducking
pack into his berth; but he was not
lhlnking of the two men-only of a
probable walt of hours. Waiting al
ways got on his nerves.