The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1907-12-25
Il Christmas Story
(Contributed.)

| Little Florence's father had been
used to better things. Formerly a
banker in one of our large cities,
the crash caught him and he went
down in the great financial panic
that ruined and made desolate SO
many homes.
But his strong Anglo-Saxon indie.
pendence and determination of char
acter asserted itself. Remembering
the freedom and peace of the old
home life of his boyhood on the farm,
he gathered up his spare belongings
and with his wife and family moved
up into one of the rich mountain
valleys of the Methow to again make
home and living Nr his loved ones.
He and his sturdy Sons had carved
a typical. comfortable pioneer home
out of the virgin forest; his wife
and elder daughters kept the house
and dairy clean, tasty, inviting and
well supplemented the labors of the
male members of the family.
The true American woman has
never yet been found lacking in doing
her part towards making home 1.-The
dearest spot on earth True, their
life was hard and simple. White
neighbors miles away. Luxuries as
we have them in centers of popula-
ton unknown and unobtainable. But
yet they were happy. The barns and
granary we'll stocked and filled; their
fields and orchard were fruitful; their
herds increasing; their store of pro-
vender sufficient for the needs of the
approaching winter; and the rifles
of the boys, as they ranged the hills,
would keep the larder we'll supplied.
Some weeks past trip had been
made to trading village and certain
mysterious packages, which prompt
ly disappeared, were brought back
in the great numbering farm wagon,
for father and mother had determine
ed that this year all the children
should have well-earned, real
Christmas.
Christmas Eve day was a busy one
for that happy family. Mother was
engaged in some secret operations
around little evergreen fir tree in
the great spare room; the girls busy
baking and securing in the kitchen
while father and the boys were hard
at work preparing the turkey and pig
for the coming days roast.
No one had time to play with or
even notice little Florence, and so,
disconsolate she wandered about the
house, the barn and the yard seeking
childish amusement
AS she stood swinging half angrily
on the great coral gate, she felt
something soft strike her check, and
looking up it again hit her forehead
la great big flake of snow.
1t had been threatening showing
for several days, and now the promise
become reality. Great, large.
broad, fleecy flakes of snow were
coming down, slowly at first and
then faster and faster. with thai
steady, quiet persistence, such as in
few hours covers the mountains
and valleys of the Cascades many feet
deep, with "the beautiful"
Little Florence jumped for the
first big flake; it eluded her, then
caught another, which disappeared
as soon as grasped. 1t was such fun.
she chased the falling "angel feath-
ers,'' catching at them, dancing,
laughing in her childish glee, out into
the road, down by the stream, up
through the bushes Faster and fast.
er came the snow, but still Florence
chased on, till weary and tired she
turned for home and supper. But
where was home? Nothing any
where. everywhere, but great white
flakes of snow.
The house had gone, the rail fence
about the field disappeared and the
mighty forest which skirted fathers
farm could no longer be seen. Even
the snow was getting deep, it was al
ready up to her ankles and as she
stopped, looked and wondered, she
began to feel cold and chilly.
Poor Florence called for father
mother. shrieked in her fright and
despair, but no answer came. She
ran hither and thither in her maze
and bewilderment, stumbling over
logs and boulders until exhausted
and worn out she fell down and Sob
bed for home.
Then she raised her head and lis
tened for fathers voice or that oil
one of the boys; shook. shivered with
cold and fright. Already her clothes
were stiffening. oh! everything was
so dark, dreary and dismal. just
than nc she peered through the