Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, December 10, 1913, Page 25

| - WVARAAAAAADANAARAAVAAA TATE V80000000000000000000000000000000000000001 0 DOMAINE IRE NAMO On EeeReReeeNeNeeeS WAAOAAA0 PAGE TEN Gifts of Everlasting AAAARUURUARURRRURURRUDOD LUREARAALEA DTA AEREREREDREORU USER PEUOTUSESEOEEUARIETONTO8 E088 R8808 c Remembrance Give a Thought to, Your Christmas and New Year Buying The Pioneer Store JOHN BECKFELT renneeeeereeeees Groceries. GRAND RAPIDS VOUAAN000000000000: Gifts worth giving are certainly worthfiplanning and®preparing for a short time in advance. If the occasion and the person justify the expenditure of time, thought and money on a remembrance of any sort, they surely justify attention at a time when it can be done to the bset advantage. It can be done now better, easier, quicker and much more satisfactorily at our store than anywhere else in the county. Our experienced salespeople will be glad to aid you in making your selections if you will give them an idea of what you want{and tell§them about the sum you wish tolpay. The variety we handle will surprise you. Your Christmas and New Year dinner will be better served by using our “Home Brand” or “Hiawatha Brand” They are always fresh. PIPPEIDA ADH DODAD PEGS “ (Copyright, by W. G. Chapman.) WO bats, six Teddy bears, three balloons six boxes of lead sol- diers,” the head nurse counted. “And a foot ball. Who wants the football?” “Johnny Ward,” af- swered Nurse Blair, half crying and hali laughing. “Isn't it pitiful, Miss Gough?" Nurse Gough set down her pencil and the memoran- dum and looked at the other wonder | ingly. “A football!” she reiterated “Then he doesn’t realize?” “No, poor little fellow. Would you give it to him, Miss Gough?” “What would the mother think?” the head nurse asked, and then Nurse Blair ceased all pretense and dabbed her handkerchief against her eyes openly. “Let’s ask Dr. Keith,” she answered, and that solved the difficulty for the time being. Johnny Ward was eight years old and had been in the hospital for nearly five weeks, ever since he waa Amocked down by the baker’s wagon while playing upon the street almost im front of the hospital entrance. He ‘was quite helpless below the waist, and would always be so, said Dr. Keith, after the operation, unless— well, miracles had happened and such eases had got well before. So he said nothing to the pretty young mother 3) who came day after day, wistful and patiest and always hopeful. Of late she had begun to suspect that her only boy, her stay that was to be in her later widowhood, would never leave the building save in a wheeled chair, But she kept her fears to her self, and nobody had had the heart to tell her. And Johnny wanted a football for his Christmas present! — “Well,” said Dr. Keith gruffty, “why shouldn’t he have one if he wants it? Isn’t there enough money to buy a football? Why, I'll buy him one my- self. What sort should he have? What are they made of? It’s a long time since I was a boy myself,” he added, in self-excuse. “Why, they’re made of pigskin, aren’t they, doctor?” answered the nurse. “But you don’t understand. How can we let him have a footbail and let his mother see him with it, and him lying there so helpless? It would be inhuman, doctor.” “Hum! I'll take the matter under consideration,” the doctor answered. But a few minutes later he was ask- ing the head interne, “Where would you go to buy a football?” He put down the address in his memoran- dum book, and the interne looked at him in wonder, for football and Dr. Keith seemed somehow unassociable. “Well, here’s the football, nurse,” he said that evening, coming into the ward. It was Christmas eve. All the children were supposed to be asleep. Here and there an eye drowsily unclosed to see if Santa Claus had really come, but sleep was stronger than expectation, and Nurse Blair would see to it that no gifts went to the sleepless. Dr. Keith held out the paper-wrapped globe. The clerk had blown it up for him, and, not thinking of having it deflated again, he had carried it thus for half a dozen blocks. “If you think it best for him not to have it, give it to someone else. Give him a Teddy bear,” he said. ; “Why, a boy that age doesn’t want Teddy dears,” answered Nurse Blair scornfully. She thought for a long while after the doctor had gone. At last she went softly to Johnny’s bed and hung the football from the head. The little boy’s eyes were closed and he was sleeping soundly. The little helpless feet made tiny mountains under the bedclothes. Nurse Blair turned away quickly. Morning came; the ward awoke. Shouts and cries of delight were heard. The day nurses went from bed to bed, unwrapping packages. Nurse Blair had gone to her room, but she did not lie down. She came back, tired but resolute, a half hour before visiting time, and went to Johnny’s side. He was playing with the ball, bouncing it upon the sheets. It had fallen down six times, and each time the nurse nearest had pick- ed it up again and returned it. “Johnny,” said Nurse Blair, “your mamma will be here in a few minutes now.” “Yes, ma’am,” answered Johnny. “Johnny, what are you going to do with that football?” asked Nurse Blair, Johnny knew immediately. “I'm going to look at it and look at it and wish hard to be well,” he answered. “Johnny, when your mamma comes “ve Brought Him This—and These.” she will see Tt afd Tt will make her ery to think of the time when her little boy was strong and well. You don’t want to make her cry, do you, dear?” “No, ma’am,” answered Johnny. “Then, Johnny,” said Nurse Blair, the diplomat, “suppose we put it away when she comes and don’t show it to her.” “Yes, ma’am,” said Johnny. A tear stole into his eye and overflowed. He handed her the football. “Y-yes, m-m-ma’am,” said Johnny, gulping. And just then the visitors came in. Nurse Blair had taken the ball, but she had no time to conceal it before the little woman in black had come hurrying to the bedside, and she stood holding it*rather foolishly and self-consciously and could not face those searching eyes. “I've brought him this—and these,” said Mrs. Ward, holding out the box of bricks and the mechanical toy, “But you—you've given him that?” Nurse Blair stammered something, but she could never remember what it was, for the young widow had tak en both her hands in hers and was looking at her in such a way as to make falsehood impossible. “Nurse,” she said, “I want to ask you something. Will he ever walk again?” | Nurse Blatr was silent. They migit have been alone in the ward, 80 Heage them 1. Hach was -witr ter own that Christmas morning and had no thought but for hers. “Will he ever walk? Will he ever stand?” The widow grasped the nurse’s hands tightly as though cling- ing to her as her last hope in life. “Tell me,” she pleaded. “Never—unless a miracle happens,” answered Nurse Blair, and the wom- an’s hands fell and she turned to the child and smiled. Then Nurse Blair understood why some of the Madon- nas were painted smiling. bed, “I want to whisper something.” The widow knelt down, but the Treath the nurse’s ears. “T mustn’t tell you what my Christ- mas present is, because it will make you cry.” The widow placed her arms round his neck and pressed his face to hers. “Mamma, I want to show you some- thing I’ve kept for a Christmas pres- ent for you. Sit up, mamma, and look. Look!” Nurse Blair screamed. Dr. Keith, passing by, stopped, looked, and as- sumed an attitude of professional pride. His rather tired face broke into a smile. “Do that again, Johnny,” Nurse Blair. “Look, doctor, He’s wiggling his toes!” “Yes, ma’am,” said Johnny ‘proud- ly. “That’s why I wanted a football. There, mamma, you’re crying after all!” een sepa Not In the Song. All over the house went little Kath- leen singing lustily, “There’s a Friend For Little Children.” Her benevolent old aunt. seeing at last, as she hoped. some signs of grace in one whom #she had almost given pp at the early age of | six as hopeless, called Kathleen to her with great satisfaction. “And who is the friend for little chil- dren, dear?” she asked. “I don’t know,” replied Kathleen gayly. “It doesn’t come out in the song.”—Manchester Guardian. cried look! Has a Clear Case. Clarence—As I undahstand it. me boy, vid Gotrox first told you that you could have his daughter and then went back on his word?/ Willy—That’s just *bout th’ size of it, bah jove. Clarence— Then deuce it, old chap. I should sue him for nonsupport, that’s all.—Puck. Kind Hearted. Boy Mendicant — Yus, kind lady, there’s sevin ov us at ’ome, orl starv- in’. but she’s took hill. Farver, ’e wos too kind hearted, ‘e wos. ‘E sed ‘e wouldn’t see us starve, so ’e run away and left us.—London Telegraph. “Mamma!” said the voice from the 1" childish whisper was loud enough to) Muvver takes in washin’, she do, j HER TOKEN OF LOVE By S. E. KISER. BLL,” said Julie Allison, when her husband had gone upstairs, after tossing a package upon the library table, “I wonder what this is?” She did not per- mit her curicsity satisfied. “For goodness sake,” she ejacu- lated to herself, with the package | undone, “if he ‘hasn’t gone and bought a whole year’s | supply of neckties! And I was going ;to get him neckties for Christmas. | That’s just the man of it. I don’t see | Why he couldn’t have waited a little | While. Let me see. I suppose I'll have |to get him a fob or something like | that, now.” | _ It was on the following evening that | Frederick Allison suddenly turned to \ his wife, after dinner, saying: “Oh, Juliet, I want to show you a | fob that I bought for myself today, It’s | Just the thing I’ve been wanting for a long time.” Juliet’s enthusiasm over it was much forced, as her husband might easily | have seen, and perhaps did see. After | they had dropped the eubject she hap- | pened to glance at his scarfpin and a new joy sprang up within her. She would get him a scarfpin for Christ- mas, for his old one was rather out of Style and never had been an expensive one, anyway. “By the way, dear,” said Allison the next evening, “I bought something to- day that I’d like to have you look at.” Of course, it was a scarfpin. Juliet knew it would be the moment she saw BR S HE i HH i i E bitin ad g3 Hl FE Ee E E i fe] He if BE to remain long un- | | | ame W ow. overs where she had seen a metal box in which cigars could be kept fresh and moist. She would get a box of that kind for Frederick, dear old feliow. It happen- ed, however, that Frederick came home the next eve- ning with a metal cigar box and enough cigars, as cheerfully in- formed her, to last him all winter Then it was that the iron entered Ju- | liet Allison’s soul. She decided to give up the idea of making her husband @ Christmas present that would be in any wise distinctive. She would mere~ ly get him a pair of gloves and per | haps a few handkerchiefs. Hardly haé she adopted this resolution, however, before he turned to her saying: “J happened to be in Witherspoon’s: this afterncon to get some shirts, and I thought I might as well lay in a sup- ply of gloves, handkerchiefs and suse penders. They'll probably be sent out. tomorrow.” ‘ “I’m so glad,” replied Juliet. “You need gloves and handkerchiefs, too. Of course, I don’t know so much about your suspenders, and I suppose you bought all the half-hose you’ll—” “Yes, I forgot to mention that. I got She went back to her chair and sat _ for a long time gazing at the flames which flickered around the gas log- The daily paper was lying on the table: at her elbow, and her glance at length fell upon some large black letters seceeeeceeeeccceseresoneees tereeeceeseees, UNTIL AFTER CHRISTMAS OUR TEETH AT GREATLY RE- DUCED PRICES. Get Your Dear One a Set Now. H “Qe mr en ee ep eres