The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1919-12-11

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nonsense" Hilda answered. III you
knew the trouble l have with her.
Mrs. Holmes, you wouldn't be asking
me to put any new ideas into her
head. She Is contented with her
dolls and is satisfied. and my work
takes up every minute of my time"
And you don't do your work"
cried the Scotch woman. There's
better and more natural work at your
hand for you to do. and you leave 1t
to others"
What do you mean by that?"
II mean Eunice." said Mrs Holmes
defiantly. and wiped her hands on her
apron and stalked away. leaving Hilda
Groves indignant and resentful
Mrs. Holmes had put her little
charge to bed on Christmas eve and
later stole on tiptoe to the door.
Eunice was lying with her face to
the wall, her head resting upon her
arm. The good woman looked visit
fully at her. and at the little stockings
which hung from the head Of the
bed. She had never had a child of
her own.
She was going to ill them to over
flowing with certain store OF good
things that she had purchased and
hidden away in the linen closet among
the sheets and pillow-cases. She had
candies and oranges, and firecrackers
that snapped disconcertingly, contain
ing foolscaps and notices and paper
ornaments within their fat and crink.
ling bodies; a jack-in-the-box, too.
and doll, just large enough to be
cunningly concealed inside a stock
ing. Mrs. Holmes watched the child.
Her sleep did not seem sound. for
once or twice she stirred, and the
good landlady had that morbid ter
ror Of discovery which q real Santa
always feels.
I'll wait till Mr.. Cunningham has
come In and then I'll do It," she re-
solved. Mr.. Cunningham, the last Of
her boarders to come home, was al
ways punctual upon the stroke Of
eleven. Eunice would then be sound
asleep, no doubt.
But Eunice had not slept at all.
With child's deliberate craft she
had deceived the good-natured land
lady. She waited till she heard Mrs.
Holmes go into her room, and then
she rose up ever so softly and pulled
on the empty stockings, dressed her
self, and crept into the hall. She
listened in terror at Mrs. Holmes
door. She was reading aloud, as she
did of an evening, and the solitary
voice was terrifying. Not much less
so was the regular breathing of Mrs.
Bennett next door, the middle-aged
woman who always insisted on stop
ping and speaking, no matter how
busy Eunice might happen to be. The
floor creaked, and once Mrs. Holmes
stopped reading and sat up in her
chair. Eunice shrank into the recess
between the hall curtain and the UNI
brella stand. Then all was right
again and Mrs. Holmes voice droned
on. The child opened the hall door
and fed out into the December blasts.
She had gone to find Santa Claus,
for she knew that he would not come
to her.
The theater was only three blocks
away, and Eunice could see the dis
tant glitter Of lights as soon as she
was in the street. The road was full
of vehicles, and pedestrians went hur-
rying along the sidewalks, but no
body molested her or was curious
about the little, thinly clad girl that
slipped among the crowds, lodging
here and there until she reached the
corner of the third block. Then
Eunice halted before the rush of au-
tomobiles that whizzed past her in
never ending line, and a big police
man took her by the arm.
Where are you going, little girl?"
be asked gruffiy.
"Thanta Clauth," said Eunice, point
ing toward the theater lights.
do you belong to the theaterT
asked the policeman obviously.
where Is your Mammal"
"Over there" said Eunice, and the
policeman carried her across the
street, while the automobiles parked
upon either hand on a wave Of his
lordly fingers. He set her down at
the stage entrance.
Anybody lost baby7" he asked