Norwich bulletin., 1911-12-23
A CHRISTMAS WREATH

! ouired the price of the wreaths, and
on being told made purchase OF
/ several of the plainest ones. No, he
didn't want any holly leaves and bef~
ries in them, Just the plain running
vine, and, yes. he would take them
with his. Il don't know but L ought
/ to ask more for this one" commented
the jovial proprietor of the store.
There's a name attached to 1T, i see,
+, Millie Saunders, the little girl VINO
made them, l suppose. Well, they are
yours, name and all and Merry
| Christmas to you with them"
| Millie Saundersl HE used to know
a little girl of that name years ago,
| in another world it almost seemed, so
| different were his associations now.
| could it be?' he unused, and then
| laughed at himself as he remembered
| ed middle life as he had himself. She
was chubby little, rosy checked girl
when he knew her, always sweet-tem-
pered and happy. How she used to
| cling trustingiy to his hand as they
crossed the wide brook on the step
/ ping stones, Theres was a straight
| road to the little old schoolhouse, but
most of the neighboring children pre-
| ferred TO go cross-lots through the
| wood. There the ground pine grew,
sunning-vine they called it, and
| they gathered ii in those days to trim
the schOolroom on festive occasions.
On their way, too, they found win
| tergreen to nibble and birch bark, and
nuts and berries in their season, while
MANY a bunch of wild flowers found
its way from moist little hands to the
teachers desk.
Somehow Waterman's bachelor quar-
tiers looked less hOme-like than COM
mon that night. though they were the
admiration and envy of many of his
quiet elegance and comfortable ap-
pointments. Tossing the wreaths to
one side, he found himself still musing
over the past and jeering at himself
r.. ~ 1fesI1F Ia fro re
fastenings the paper attached to one
of the wreaths. On it he read: Il am
the little girl who made these wreaths
to sell Aunt MiIlie said / might put
my name on one with Merry Christ
mas to the one who gets it, Millie
Saunders. and then the address he ex-
pected 10 find that obscure little COM
myInity in Vermont. He would really
like to see the old place again None
Of his family was left there, but there
must be some he knew still living in
the vicinity. When the holiday rush
was over, he would go up there and
revive old associations. He knew he
should enjoy it hugely.
So one day in January found Henry
Waterman turning his face porthward,
never needing the warnings of his
friends who predicted that he would
be snow-bound and unable to re- urn
when he desired. How he enjoyed IL
ALI Even the frosty air was pleasure.
and so enveloped was he in fur coat
and cap that had they been able TO
identify him at all after his long alb
sence, no one recognized him in the
disting uIshed city gentleman, who reg
iStered at the tavern In his native vii
age. Then, as he revealed hfmseil.
there was a general demand from
those assembled for a renewal of old
ties
We'll, well" exclaimed the host. so
you are nttie Henry Waterman. who
went to the city twenty years ago!
We've kept track of you. and know
something of your success, and are
proud to see you here"
Have you forgotten Silas WarnerT
asked another voice. q You and l used
TO whittle the same desk in the old
schoolhouse. You'll find our initials
there now, 1 warrant. But, man alive.
what made you come now? Why didn't
you wait till SUMNER
Waterman met them all cordially,
explaining that vacations could not
always be taken when one chose, and
he took his chance when il came, and
must make the most of it And very
enjoyable he found it, meeting one and
another of the old-time friends, most
of whom were househoIders or ma
irons with their ffocks of little ones
about them. They rallied him on his
single blesedness, and urged him to
rectify his mistake before many more
years went by.
for you to choose from" said one hap
by mother, "and 1 hope we shall hear
of your decision before long"
OF course. he hunted Up little AIillie
Saunders, who greatly resembled the
childish schoolmate he so well remem-
bered. Aunt Mile, IS the child called
her, was still living in her old home.
and had taken charge of the orphan
child of a favorite brother, and the
two were very happy together-little
Millie evidently very fond of the aunt
for whom she was nan ed
"Auntie said L might make the
wreaths and sell them for Christmas
money: but how funny you should get
mine and know about me. Come again
next summer and I'll show you where
the vines grow. and there are stepping
stones in the brook there, and Aunt
Mile says a little boy used to help
her over
Why, Aunt MiIlie, how queer
you looki am sure he must |
have been a good little boy to help |
you, and ! don't wonder you liked him. |
Did you know him, Mr.. Waterman ,
Auntie never told me- ais name" And |
she looked inquiringIy at their guest. !
Here both Aunt Mile and Henry Wa |
terman Joined in a hearty laugh, and |
turned the talk TO other topics.
The winter visit was of necessity a |
brief one, but before returning city
ward Henry Waterman made Mile |
promise to write him the news occa-