Oxford eagle., 1919-12-18


: ton, he had looked upon the unfol-
: tunate incident from the worst posi-
? ; BILE point of view, and in the heat ol
: his passion, had foolishly declared that
? he was through with friends" had
! mo faith in them," and tlat they
, could "go to -." With his rash
! declaration, Jack left for a part of the
! country where he was unknown.
In vain had kind old men advised
! him to "forsake his wayward life," and
! he turned a deaf ear TO less kind men
i who called him "durn fool" Stick
i ing to his promise, and constantly MAX
i ing himself believe in his newly found
/ philosophy, Jack began his friendless
i life.
: So here into this little town ne had
! drifted, miserable, a gambler, drunk
J ard, and now resoIting to burglary.
Indeed, his philosophy seemed to be
] still holding out, but what wreck it
j had made of it's inventor!
/ Down the silent street the Wretched
/ fellow continued, till finally, stopping
before a promising-looking residence,
he crept along hedge toward the
! house and soon found himself under
! front window. Luckily the window
was unfastened and it was only a
/ matter of minutes and skill before
| Jack was in the room.
! A bed of still-live Goals in the fire
J CRATE cast dull glow over the room
! Several hanging stockings of various
| sizes adorned the mantle piece, ana
/ their bulky appearance signified the
i fact that Santa Claus had already
!; made his visit. Near the fire place
stood a Christmas tree, laden with tls-
sue-wrapped parcels of various sizes
! and shares, and festooned with candle
/ and tinsel which sparlzled in the fire
Y light
i "Hit it lucky" muttered Jack to
i himself. "Ought to be something in
! all that for me-
Cautiously he crept to the tree,
lingering a gun in his coat pocket, as
he nervously kept an eye on the dark
! opened doorway. Reaching for q
| package that looked very much like g
small jewelry box, he
100, Sanity, is dat you?"
Jacks hand shot back to his gun.
: whirling around, he found himself
: pointing his pistol at a>smiling, club
! by-faced, curly-headed boy in tiny
pajamas. He couldn't have been more
] than five Christmases old. The sur
j prised mans first impulse was to
pounce upon the child, but the latter
Twas the first to act
"Oo-ee! is dat all for me?" whisper
NJ ed the delighted youngster, holding
I out his chubby hands for the cold steel
Jack was pointing at him.
"No, it isn't, kid" was the whisper
ed answer of the angry burglar" and
Keep your hands off of it,"
The little fellow looked into the face
of his supposed Santa Claus, and ex-
preston of surprise came into his
countenance, but the trace of a smile
still fingered.
"You doesn't look like yourself,
Sanity Claus" he smiled, mot like de
pictures dat dey has of you, but | loves
you anyway. De pictures is wrong,
aim dey, Sany CLAUSE"
"I'm not your Santa Claus, kid,
!, desperately whispered the burglar.
, "Now be quiet, and"
ooh, yes you is, too, cause Mamma
said you was comm tonight an was
donna slide dowr de cl-imbly. You
can't fool me, Sanity Claus, | has
caught you now. Did you bwing me
: de little wagin what asked you p"
l The little fellows eyes turned to the
. row of beautifully filled stockings be-
fore the fireplace
"See here, kid" pleaded jack who
had all but forgotten his mission, de
batting with the little chap, "dont you
know who Santa Claus is" but the
! boy was no longer listening to his vain
Whispering, but softly r,attered over
!, to the smallest stocking in the row.
Jack was in dilemma. What could
= he do? He couldn't convince the
|youngster that h cwas not Santa Claus
and now he wouldn't if he could. To
shake that boys faith in his Christ
mas idol would be worse than burglary
lyet if he did what he came to do
+ he gave up in despair.
Faith! The word ranked in Jacks
t mind. What faith that boy had! Not
y IN hel who resembled anything but
+ Santa Claus, could make the child
: |believe that he was anything else