The Kendrick gazette. [volume] (Kendrick, Idaho) 1892-1968, 1919-12-19
r see them smile at ir.

neT see them Smile at IL.
The afternoon before Christmas
Julia persuaded her husband to take
little Bobbie downtown so that he
could not surprise her trimming the
tree. Brother Jim and the old folks
went along.
Little Bobbie naturally was most
of all interested in the toy depart
ments and hardly could be made leave
hold some Of the playthings he most
fancied.
ooh see, daddie! A horsie that
rocks, with a name and bride and
ever'thing!.. And oh, grandma
lookit! lookit! There's real live
Santa Claus talking to those other
little boys and girls!'
It was indeed. The big store had
hired rather shabby-looking young
man that week, who for SIS was sup
posed to sit at the door Of an imita-
ton snow house and solemnly encour-
age visiting youngsters to tell him
their fondest wants in the line of pres
ents. Little Bobbie was impatiently
waiting in line. holding fast with one
chubby fist to his fathers hand, in no
time. Mother and father Morris. and
big brother Jim watched and waited
smilingly for them on the edge of
the crowd.
"Well, my little man, what is your
name?" asked the scarlet-coated and
long white-whiskered Santa Claus in
tired, husky voice when Bobbie's
turn finally came.
"I'm Bobbie Wallace, dear Mr.. Santa
Claus, and live at 1901 Byrne street."
the boy chirruped at him, round-eyed
and devoutly believing in the identity
of Santa. my mammals name is Julia
Wallace and I've got a little baby
sister now, too"
The long-whiskered Santa patted
his head in perfunctory WEAKNESS.
"And what do you most want me to
put in your stocking this Christmas
Eve, Bobbie?" he asked with side
long glance at the tolerantly smiling
father.
"We-ell," drawled Bobbie uncer-
tainly, "there are lots and lots of
things I want awful, awful much,
Mister Santa Claus, but heard my
mamma say this morning that it's
ever so much nicer to wish for things
for those that love you than for your
self. So I. :. 1 guess, ought to ask you
to keep my poor old grandma Morris,
who's got white hair now, from wor-
rying and crying any more over her
boy Dan. You see, Mister Santa, my
uncle Dan ran away from home a
long, long time ago, before was born,
and my grandma keeps saying she
can't rest until she sees him again.
She's visiting my papa and mamma
at home now, and saw present she
has all wrapped up and labeled for
uncle Dan If you'll be good enough to
find him and bring him out to our
house tonight. Won't you do that
please, mister Santa?"
With a choking cry the white
whiskered one stumbled to his feet
nearly upsetting his little snow house
and searching Boobies wonder-round
ed eyes in hungry disbelief.
"You are Julia Morris little boy?'
he muttered dazedly. "And you say
that. -. that your grandmother really
wants her worthless runaway Dan tt
come back to her? 49,. is waiting here
in the city for him now? Oh, my
Godw
Fred, Boobies father, caught a
the Santa's arm as he reeled un
steadily sidewise as if about to faint
and in SO doing knocked off the bushI
white whiskers.
"AwI" walled Bobbie, facing hi
first childish establishment, "he ism
a real Santa after all !"
Back through the amazed ant
rather indignant crowd of shopper
old mother Morris was coming as fas
as her trembling legs would permit
and above the noise and calls o
clerks at the counters, could be hear
her thrilling, quavering cutlery:
Danny! Oh, Danny! Danny! Nv
found my lost boy at last"