Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1907-03-12
CHAPTER NJ.

~ HRISTMAS eve had come and
the year of 1850. For two
~ weeks snow had rushed over
the creaking gable of the for
est above Martha Vaughn's to pile in
drifts or go Kissing down the long hill
side. A freezing blast had driven it to
the roots of the stubble and sown it
deep and rolled it into ridges and
whirled 1t into heaps and mounds or
flung it far in long waves that seemed
to plunge, as If part Of white sea,
and break over fence and roof and
chimney in their down rush. Candle
and fire light filtered through frosty
panes and glowed dimly under dark
fathoms Of the snow sheet now flying
full Of voices. Mrs. Vaughn opened
her door a moment to peer out. A.
great horned owl flashed across the
light beam with snap and rustic of
wings and cry "Oo-oo-oo!" lonely,
like that, as If it We're the spirit of
darkness and the cold wind. Mrs.
Vaughn started, turning quickly and
closing the door.
ugh, what sound" said Polly. ut
reminds me Of ghost story"
"Well," said the widow, that thing
belongs to the only family O. real
ghosts in the world"
what was it?" said a small boy.
There were Polly and three children
about the fireplace.
"An air cat" said she, shivering, her
back to the fire. '"They go round at
night in great sheet o. feathers an
rustic it, an I declare they do cry
lonesome. Got terrible claws tool"
ever hurt folks?" one of the boys
inquired.
mo; but they're just like some kinds
O. people-ye want to let 'em alone.
Any one that'll shake hands with an
owl would be fool enough to eat fish.
hooks. They're not made for friend
ship, those OWLS"
Presently she sat down by table,
where there were candles and began
reading aloud from county paper.
She read anecdotes of men remark
able for their success and piety, and an
account Of Indian fighting, interrupted,
as red man lifted his tomahawk to
slay, by the rattle of an arrow on the
buttery door.
1t was off the cross gun of young
Paul. He had seen everything in the
story and had taken aim at the said In
dian just in the nick of time.
She read also the old sweet story of
! the coming of the Christ Child.
"Some say it was night like this
said she as the story ended.
Paul had listened, his thin, sober
| face glowing.
"I'll bet Santa Claus was good to
him." said he. Brought him sleds an
| candy an nuts an raisins an new
boots an everything"
"Why do you think SOP asked his
mother, who was now reading intently
"'Cos he was good boy. He
wouldn't cry If he had to fill the wood
box, would he, mother?"
That query held hidden rebuke fol-
his brother Tom.
II do not know, but I do not think
! he was ever saucy or spoke bad
word"
'Huh!" said Tom rehectively. 'Ther
| I guess he never had no mustard plas
ter put OH him."
The widow babe him hush.
"Er never had nuthin' done to him
neither" the boy continued, rocking
| vigorously in his little chair.
Mustn't speak SO of Christ" tn,
| mother added.
i "Waal." said Paul, rising, II CUES.
I'll hang up my stockins"
"One'll do, Paul." said his sister Pol
| ly, with knowing air.
mo, 'twon't," the boy insisted
"They amt half as big as yours. Tn
goin' t. try 1t, anyway, an see wha
he'll do to 'em."
He drew off his stockings and pinned
] them carefully to the braces. on tn,
back Of chair.
.'Well, my son." said Mrs. Vaughn
looking over the top Of her paper, "it'l
bad weather. Santa Claus may not b.
: aba TO net bare"