The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1905-12-30

II T was. the day before Christmas
Dame Yarrow stood In the store-roon
| doorway, gowned In q warm frock o
gray wool homespun, over which wa
| tied an ample white apron. He
white-capped head nodded - she counte,
the pies on the shelves.
Fifteen pumpkin-Afteen mince-ff
ty custard cups and two plum pudding
l-eighty-two In all, not counting Nan
MES three little turnovers. think tina
win do for the holidays this year, though
Brother John IL coming with those tel
boys and one little girl. How cold 1t Is
There il surely a storm brewing, and
hope the folks will get here before /
| breaks"
The good woman turned the key II
the lock, and door blowing open JUS
at that moment, at the other end of thu
pasageway, she hurried off to close Il
and forgot about the key.
BY 3 o'clock madame was robed il
her pretty gray poplin with white ker
chief crossed on her breast, and dainty
white lace cap on her brown curls
which would stray out from beneath tn.
cap band, and which Papa Yarrow slyly
pulled as he passed through the hal
where sat his wife and little daughter il
front Of the blazing wood fire.
Cali ready for company, Nancy
mine" He caught the little one up II
his arms and kissed her on either cheek
continuing: "And mother, too? Why
she looks as young as the day I saw
Ter for the first time"
Farmer Yarrow put the little CIR
| down, glanced at his wife, who, with
dropping face, did not respond to his
merry speech.
Her husband, noticing this, bent ovel
her tenderly, with the words, eyes, my
| wife. our life has ben one of great hap
piness, marred only by one sorrow. II
he-our eldest child-our Henry-were
alive to-day, he would be a brave LAD
Of IT,"
"John," for the first time his wife
raised her head and looked into his face
her brown eyes filed with tears, "John
sometimes, methinks our boy may vel
| be alive. In the fight with the Indians
| we were told that he was carried away
| by them, and even though the country
! about was searched by scouts and others
it might be that they saved his life, fol
he was but baby-5 years old, and II
there was a woman in that tribe surely
she would have mother-heart enough tt
preserve the life of an inocent babe who
| had never done harm to any,"
"Wife, wife, this is very wrong fol
you to hope for the return of one who
has been SO many years from us. an
sure that. our son cannot be alive, or W.
would have heard of him in some way
All! hear sleigh bells"
Catching Mamie up again, he turned
toward the window, and coming up tn,
driveway were seen three immense
sledges drawn by strong horses and flleG
with merry faces, the owners of which
were soon clambering out. The front
door was thrown open, and Madame
Yarrow's tears vanished in the hearty
handshakings and embraces Of sisters
cousins and aunts.
Even Great-grandmother Hartwel
had come, for this year 1t was Mary
Yarrow's Christmas feast, and all had
come to make the old house ring with
JOY and laughter until after New Year.
That night merry crowd sat down al
the supper table. There was Brother
John Hartwell, his wife and eleven chill
dren. There was Great-grandmothe1
Hartwell and her daughter-in-law
Grandmother Hartwell. Mr. Yarrow's
father and mother were present, as were
also his two brothers and one sister with
their wives, husband and children. In
all there were thirty-three.
One might well wonder where all this
gcodly company were to sleep, but If you
had gone into the great garnet you would
have ceased wondering, when you saw
the trundle beds for the little ones. OF
course, the very smallest babies slept in
their mothers rooms.
Christmas Eve the children were al
ways allowed an extra half hour around
the ireside to listen to the stories of
their elders, while the corn popped and
chestnuts burned black, or else hoped
across the floor.
On this evening Mamie sat in her
favorite place on Cousin Roderick's knee.
Uncle Tom had just been saying that a
few days previous he had heard that
the Indians had been causing trouble
for the farmers. They were stealing
the boarded corn and wheat, and in one
instance, after taking the grain, they
had set FIRE to the granary.
Cousin Rod saw the look of terror in
the eyes of some of the little ones, and
interrupted with the words, We'll, now,
Aunt Mary, wouldn't it be a great joke
liz these hungry Reds should get into
your storeroom and carry off all those
pies and buildings know you have