The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1914-12-24


sir; am indeed"
Yet that didn't help matters. He
wandered around the deserted hotel
corridors in the morning feeling ut
terly lost. Nearly every one seemed
to be going out to dinner to some
place where he was urgently desired.
Four times he strolled over to the
desk and looked casually up at his
box, but there were no mail and no
presents for Maj. Robert Lee Carter.
The last time he had really de-
cided to give up and ring up some
business associate to take dinner with
him at the hotel But he saw let
ter in his box, and the clerk handed
him curiously shaped parcel, rather
bulky and oval He took it up to his
own rooms, and opened it with a
funny little thrill of anticipation.
BY George, he was wrong. There
was somebody, he didn't know who
it was, but there WAS somebody who
had remembered him. The last wrap
per fell off, and he stood staring down
at little homemade willow basket,
filled with mistletoe A card on top
read, Love and Merry Christmas
from Pam"
Pam? He remembered no Pam.
He opened the letter for enlighten-
ment and as he read, his heavy gray
eyebrows drew closer together, and
every now and then he calculated,
God bless my heart and soul"
You won't remember me at all, but
I'm Pamela Grayson, and my mother
was your sisters daughter, SO I'm
your grandniece, see? Mother died
about year ago, just after we came
| north, and l have been here alone
ever since l didn't even know you
were alive until cousin Florrie, Of
Carriers Landing, down home, wrote
and told me to share this mistletoe
with you, for she had gathered it in
the old oak grove where you used to
60 when you were little boy. Here's
wishing you a merry, merry Christ
mas, and I wish / knew you. because
it does certainly get fearfully lone
some here in New York holiday time
when you haven't any one of your
very own
The telephone bell rang sharply
just as the major was about to say
God bless my heart and soul" once
again. But he lifted the receiver, and
smiled at the voice that answered his
hail.
Delighted, Ralph, delighted, my
boy, but you see, arm going to have
young lady guest here to dinner
with me, my grandniece, sir, from
Virginia. Now, instead of my joining
you in your bachelor apartments, sup
posing you join US, and try and COM
pensate to her for having surely old
chap for dinner partner. Names
Miss Pamela Grayson. Come right
down.
Then he smiled, and kept, on smil-
ing in the oldest, happiest way. And
he leaned back in his deep leather
chair, and lit cigar, and watched the
smoke rings form overhead, and
smiled up at them. He had four SIS
tiers. PANS grandmother had been
the youngest. And now somehow,
they were all gone, as he thought.
"the way of the roses" and he was
alone. He had rather lost track Of
all the nieces and nephews and grand
nieces and grandnephews Sentiment
does not thrive in the New York at
mosphere, yet as he looked at the
letter, he felt an odd glow of PRIDE,
and he held the little basket of mis-
tletoe out at arms length, smiling
retrospectiveiy. Many a time he had
gone up to the old oak grove to gather
il for his mother to decorate the great
hall at Christmas. And now this lit
tie Pam
The major rose suddenly with quick
intention. Five minutes later he was
on his way up to the address in the
letter. Upstairs two flights he climbed,
and tapped at the low top door with
IT'S modest card:
Pamela Grayson."
She stood at the easel with her
back to him, big blue apron on. and
she was singing,
"Oh, holy town Of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie.
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars 60 by"
The major stood at attention, but
when she turned and caught sight Of
ssiE,. she gave little cry Of Joy. Ne; {;
11ncle Bob. How did you come 20
4 ma I'll