Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-01-13

H.,
less of the state of shoes and knickers.
The little girls who ventured in alone
were taken in hand by sponsors of the
party, but it CHANGED that two small,
shabby boys, who had no friends to
flock with, introduced themselves to
each other by punches delivered and
returned and a clinch to find out which
was the better man. This prelude set
tied, they fraternized. and when the
time came to join the others at the
tree their names might have been Da-
mon and Pythias. though, to stick to
history, one was Jimmie and the other
was Bud.
Santa. being wise man who knows
all about children, and having none of
his own, welcomed the two shabby, lit
tie boys with the exhilarating news that
he had a whistling top for one ana a
one-blade penknife for the other with
out in the least realizing that no boy
wants top when he can get chance
at a penknife. Both boys extended
hands in the direction of the knife, but
each was quickly withdrawn, as Bud,
the smaller and shabbier of the TWO,
said to Jimmie:
You pick first CO."
Go ahead, yourself" said Jimmie,
"and then you can cut my scarf in
half and both of us will have one"
"Oh, you wicked little boy"-the
anathema came from a middle-aged
lady in charge of the scarfS-"to ruin
your pretty present like that"-though
no one seemed to be paying attention
to her. Santa, for one, was so I'M
pressed by the generosity of the young
sters that he lifted both hands in the
air to attract general attention, and
then voiced admission that in all his
service to the little people OF earth, ne
had never before seen child that did
not grab for every gift in sight"
Thereupon, he waddled to the table.
took one of the few scarfs left and
gave it to Bud. whose thin bit of a
neck needed it. Then he funbled
among his treasures and. finding an
other knife and another top, sent both
boys on their way with full hands.
Those two kids are great friends"
he chuckled to the middle-aged lady,
who was not yet pacifled. II bet they
grow up to be neighborS and comrades.
and maybe will one day give Christmas
parties to poor children in memory OF
this one And I bet the presents will
be whistling tops and penkniveS.
"And scarfs?" added the lady.
Undoubtedly Exactly like yours"
And the middle-aged lady smiled with
fr1endlIneSS that reSurrect6d q long
lost dimple in her chin.
But Santa was no prophet, for as
the two shabby little boys got outside
they began to fight, and Jimmie, being
large enough to have reached the
teeth-shedding age, walloped the other
out Of both knife and top and sent him
home with punch in his eye and a
torn shirt for his mother to spank him
for. But that wasn't the end of the
story, for little Bud took of mis- scarf
and when he got home said to his
mother:
"It was a fine party and Santa Claus
sent you this scarf"
Which is nothing to tell about. ex-
cept to show you any Santa that boasts
of his knowledge Of children doesn't
know what he is talking about. The
only thing that anybody could say is
that two lawlesS little imps had, for a
time, been caught in the glamor of the
Christmas spirit. and in some way an
swered to the friendly warmth of gay
little scarf that shared its comfort be-
tween them AS for the rest
Boys will be boys.
old, ugly and poor. The three-ply
~ tragedy is so monotonously univer-
sal that it is merely mentioned by way
of introduction to woman who was
on her way to midnight mass.
She smiled as she limped along. as
though her thoughts were happy ones