Cut Bank pioneer press. [volume] (Cut Bank, Mont.) 1909-current, 1913-01-03
BOBBY'S FIRST FIGHT
It Was Over the Existence of
Santa Claus and He
Lost Out.
sv Lillian DUcEY.

oANhCA tooAS
morsel had been disposed of.
The ewes of the mother and father
leaped together-a swift look that ask
ed and answered volumes. Then their
eyes veered to Bobby.
''W-we?" it came in a chorus.
"Tom Bellows and l." Bobby spoke
largely. as became one who, at a drop
OF the hat as it were. had put all child
ish nonsense behind him. Bobby was
six. Being the only child. he was dim
ly aware that all he said carried
weight.
Don't believe In S~anta-eh?" The
twinkle in Mr.. Crawford's eye belied
the solemnity of his tone.
Nope" Bobby gaze back with I'M
compromising positiveness.
"Humph," was all the father said.
But where, sonny the mother
began, when she caught the look In
her husbands eye, which reading
Alright she knew to mean: Leave 1t to
me Justmine.' (Her name was Jas
mine, and this was his lone version
of it,
so you and Tom Bellows don't be-
lieve in Santa CLAUSE" the man just
fed the conversation.
Nope. It's just a m~ake-believe to
fool kids"
"A little more of that pudding. Just
mine. It's bully. I'D be willing to bet
every Christmas present I'm going to
get that you made it yourself"
Il did" Mrs. Crawford laughed a
little. And the question of Santa's
identity suffered a momentary eclipse,
for she plunged Immediately into a
minute account Of the divers paths
that same recipe and travelled before
it reached her. During the recital a
large part of Bobby's big-minded com
placency left him.
Its just the fathers and mothers.
They buy the presents" Bobby almost
choked in his haste as chance made
his mother pause. I'VE heard it all.
Mother! Daddy! Listen!-Tom and
I were hiding in the next room. 1t
was Toms aunt-the n that goes to
college. Santa Claus isn't any more
real than a fairy story. And-and
nowadays they don't believe in bring
ing up children to believe in him or
fairy stories either. So we don't be-
lieve any more! And we're going to
tell all the other boys tomorrow"
1t was curious, but in spite of the
interest his face had portrayed, Bobby
suddenly noted that his father did not
lend himself to the conversation. In
stead-and in absolute silence-he
slipped a hand into his inside coat
pocket.
The hand came out with an envel.
ope which was wordlessly handed to
Bobby. And to Bobby's complete con
s~ternation he saw it was the very let.
ter he had written to Santa a week or
so ago. Bobby looked hard at his
father.
Whats the use of it now" Mr.,
Crawford spoke kindly, though in a
tone of finality that put the foolish
letter in its corner-and incidentally
Bobby also.
Bobby, however, tried a joke on him
delivered with all his newly acquired
g~rown-upness. Oh. 1t was fun al
right-to believe"
"Take it how you like, Santa is
mighty good fun" Bobby felt seized
with a sudden panic.
"Tll-I1l tell you what's in the let
ter father" it was only a spluttering
boy who spoke "a bicycle like
Ted Carson's, a train of cars that rur
OF a track, a play circus, a scouts
uniform-and-and a good drum"
The words had fairly tumbled out o.
the boys mouth,
"I say, SOM" he suddenly exclaimed
as if the remembrance had just leapet
into his mind. Look in my right HAND
o~vercoat pocket. I've got something
for you. A man came into my Office
today selling the dandiest book TO
boys: The Adventures of the Clan
Gagoo.' And the pictures are great.
said to him: Here I've got a littl
chap just wild about that kind of
fairy story-giye it to me. Such
bright little shaver he can read then
himself now"
But Bobby was off before the com
pliment could touch him. The Adver
lures of the Giant Gagoo!" Why |
was a title to c~onjure with! Return
ing. he found the dining-room empty.
Were in here, sonny" his mothe
called softly from the licing room
But we've only the logs for light, 8
read at the table in there"
Being so anxious to begin Bobb
made no demur, He spelled throug
the first page. Half way down tn
second something his father said t
his mother made him prick up hi
ears.
Il remember it so we'll" Mr.. Crav
ford was saying. 81 was just abou
Bobby's age. too-quite as determine
to air my suddenly acquired know
edge. Father I said, 1 don't beliey
in Santa Claus any more. I'm too bic
Father was a slow man, Not b
lieve in Santa He was astounded
"'No.' l emphasized my words wit
a strut. I'd been thinking for an no,
or more and had all my argumen
pat. The boys say there isn't an,