The independent-reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1909-1955, 1911-12-14

y Her x
Santa Claus
And the "Happy Man" Are
One and the Same
By Clarissa Mackie
Copyright by American Press Assoc
citation, 1911.
BY Clarissa Mackie

# .
The hall on the third floor of Mrs.
Ramsell's boarding taouse stretched
dark and gloomy tunnel from front 10
rear. Halfway down its length small
nimbus of light surrounded tiny gas
Hffne. There was an undiscovered
leak In the pipe here. and the air was
always foul with the escaping gas.
White painted doors led from the
hall into rooms at front and rear and
on the west side. The stairway went
down the eastern blank wall Into the
dimly lighted brussels carpeted gen
tilitv of the second floor. Up here,
however. there was merely brown OIL
cloth on the floor, and 1t was worn
into uneven hillocks and was slippery
with age,
Honora Burr came up the stairs ana
thrust key into the lock of the thlro
floor rear room. The door swung BACK
against the wall and made II passage
for her to squeeze in between the mar
row white iron bedstead and close the
door. In one corner was battered
oak bureau with a distorting mirror
above 1t. There were washstand ana
a rocking chair and Honora's SHABBY
trunk. That was all.
When she had removed her hat and
cloak and hung them in the tiny closet
Honora attached a piece of gas hose
TO her Jet and lighted small gas
stove. On this she placed a saucepan
of water and then sank YEARLY into
the chair With the stove lighted
there was q dim blush glow in the
room. and Honora sat there waiting
for the water to boil and looking out
Of the window at the dreary prospect
of tall brick structures and distant
blinking lights. From the next block
came the clatter and bang of elevated
trains.
Suddenly all the view from the win
dow was blotted out In mist of tears.
Honora's bright head pressed heavily
against the back of her chair, and she
placed her hands against her eyes.
~ can't stay here" she sobbed. Il
can't stay all alone In this big city at
Christmas and know that there Is no
body to care whether | have a good
time or not, nobody to give any pres
ents to, nobody to say Merry Christ
mas as If 1t were really meant!
Honora Burr's position was a pecul-
lar one. She had been delicately nur-
tured In comfortable home In
pleasant suburb. She was the only
child of parents who had no relatives
except very distant cousins In anoth-
err city who were almost strangers to
the Burrs. Honora's father had been
confidential man In a large city house.
and two years before this Christmas
eve he had been arrested for embez
cling money from his employers and
In despair had killed himself. leaving
his wife and daughter almost penni-
less.
The disgrace of the affair. combined
with the shock of her husbands death.
ended Mrs. Burr's life within another
year, and Honora was left to face
the world alone. After she had sold
Off most of the household effects and
stored the remaining few with friend
Honora paid the debts and went to
New York to seek situation.
She had keenly felt the humiliation
and disgrace attendant upon her ia
TIERS death, but nevertheless Honora
Burr never believed that he was en-
| tirely guilty. That he had not lived
to make a fight for his honor was his
weakness. Honora was proud. and she
would not approach any Of her fathers
friends or acquaintance In her quest
| for work. She would not embarrass
them by counting a refusal.
BY her own efforts Honora secured
a position In music store. where for
SO week she sold sheet music and
demonstrated the quality of pianos by
her brilliant playing. for Honora was
skilled musician. Her life was
very lonely one in the dreary board
ing house, but she could not afford to
take brighter and better room. for
she was saving n dollar a week from
her wages, hoping to accumulate
enough money by spring to give up
her situation and seek some music pu-
! pills.
The kettle was boiling merrily now.
and Honora poured some Of the water
into the little japanese teapot she had
brought from home and set the re-
mainder back on the stove to boil an
egg for her supper As she moved
about the blue dusk of the room one
could see that she was small and slen-
der and gowned In black from head to
foot. Her face and the white OF her
little hands and the snowy glimpse OF
white at neck and wrists shone out.
Somebody came up the stairs three
steps at time whisting merrily,
tramped noisily down the hall and the
door of the large front room opened
and closed The whistling continued.
"Its the happy man." said Honora to
herself as she extingulshed the stove
and turned on the gas light.
This was the worst Christmas eve
Honora had ever spent. Last year 1t
had been sad. but her dear mother
was alive. Now she was all alone, and
the horror of loneliness seemed almost
more than she could bear.
"In the story books" said Honora
foriornly. IF one Is unhappy on Christ
mas eve they go out and do some good
fo the moor and unfortunate bur when