The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1908-12-19

You'll keep it up, one
way or another, and at the last min
ute I'll feel mean if I don't get into
the game and squander a lot of money
on presents"
He closed the door and went away.
By the time he had boarded the car
for town he knew that she was right.
But the Christmas woman didn't
know that he was thinking this.
She was busy in her own room,
where, on a work table, lay white
shirt waist pattern stamped with a
graceful design for embroidering. She
had bought it for so cents, marked
down frozl one dollar because it was
the last. Her plan was to transfer its
design to other pieces Of cloth which
she had in the house and so evolve
three shirt waists, stamped for en-
broidering, to bestow on the three
nieces, who liked to embroider. And
all for SO cents!
But the Christmas woman had just
begun work, trying bravely to forget
the hard-up husbands last words,
when she was called downstairs to see
the perfectly discouraged person,
whose plant was after this fashion:
"Oh, dear! It's nothing to me how
many shopping days there are to
Christmas. 1 can't buy thing"
But, my DEAR" said the Christmas
woman, think what you can make out
of that luxurious box of pieces you
showed me the other day!"
Thereupon she poured forth many
suggestions about aprons and holders
and shoe bags and top collars-enough
to inspire a church bazaar.
"Oh, yes, but everything you make
costs little for ribbon or something"
the perfectly discouraged person con-
Guided, at the end of her depressing
call. 81 wish Christmas was past!"
Then she went straight home,
pulled out her box of pieces, pondered
over the Christmas woman's sugges-
tons, schemed out a plan for saving
a little money here and there, and
then fell to work on her Christmas
presents with new courage.
But that Christmas woman didn't
know this
She was getting at her own work
again. This time she worked for
fully five minutes undisturbed, then
another visitor claimed her-this time
the tired-to-death woman, who couldn't
get away from her teething baby to
go shopping, or to take one stitch on
Christmas presents.
Give me your list, and I'll shop
for you," the Christmas woman vol
unteered.
Mercy! I couldn't possibly tell
what 1 want without seeing things"
10 70
Not until she was well on her way
down the street did she realize that,
with little planning, she might shop
by proxy after all. The idea, once it
had penetrated her mind, pleased her
so much that she was smiling like a
really rested woman when she reached
home and sat down to make out her
list.
But the Christmas woman didn't
know this.
Have 1 called you downstairs when
you were doing something impor-
tant?" the dead-broke girl was asking
Of the Christmas woman by that time.
I'm sorry if 1 have, but had to tell
you my troubles. I'm in debt up to
my ears. 1 haven't any right to give
Christmas presents this year. I'm
going to be cross until December &C."
"Oh, no!' the Christmas woman
protested. ''Why, keeping CHEEKY is
one kind of giving! And at least you
can write Christmas letters"
why, who cares for those?" was
the cynical answer.
Yet an hour later, at her desk, the
dead-broke girl was busily writing
RIA Il,
borrowed sweetness and humming a
happy tune as the words flowed from
her pen.
But the Christmas woman didn't
know this.
She had gone back to her room for
the third time-to find her work table
empty. In vain she searched for the
shirt-waist cloth.
Bridget she called at last, have
you taken. anything out of my room?"
Bridget was washing the windows.
"Only the clean rags for polishin' the
glass, num- she answered. You said
they'd be on your table,
The Christmas woman cast one
glance at a pile of ragged pillow cases
| intended for Bridget's use and another
at the besmirched shirt-waist material
with which the window was being
rubbed.
"Oh!" she began. But at sight of
Bridget's sorry face she caught her
self. Never mind, Bridget" she add
ed Don't feel bad about it."
Feel bad! Me?" echoed the aston
ished girl. The look in her eyes was
full of admiration. Sure, now, this is
the first place I ever worked where
| the lady didn't get cross before Christ
| mas!"
This time the Christmas woman
knew.
With great gladness, because she
had carried the message to one heart,
she said, softly;
-Oh, but, Bridget, what do three
little presents matter? It's joy that
we must give!"
A sordid Soul.
Jinks-Of all mean, graspi1g men,
Il - -