The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 22, 1895, Page 24

24 In Childh 2l 18 mas dinner’s getting ready, { r, there 1sn’t very much time children dez 10 get lunc And that week. Eve just what’s the matter this ody is so busy getting ready | enter old Santa Claus that they | ven't time to fix up a very nice paper this week. But you just wait till Christ- | mas day and see what happens! A great big page is going to happen to the little folks, and when they get through | reading it they will know more about the | and babits of that same Santa than they ever did before, I'll ven- ture. | Overin England they have a very learned | society for finding out what everybody knows about ghosts. | Asif anybody ghosts! Right here i ciety for finding out knows about somethi nicer than that. It is the dearest little | in the world—t one over here— | is allowed to belong to it who is | to tease, and nobody who | an his mother. | in ink just now, that | writing down every- | g for the | 's page of the Christmas CALL | t writing about? I promised not You've got to guess all the time ! n town we have a so- i what everybody g ever so much tis up to little society. to tell. oodshealm think they will laughat me when I'm big 2" “Laugh at you! Why, Bennie, who would be so bad?”” ©Ob, you don't know boys, Mignonne. ‘Why, they laugh at me and yell and cry, ‘Here comes Hip-o-ty-hop.” ‘See the crooked man who ran a crooked mile!” “Oh, how cruel!” “It pains here, sister,” and he pressed his thin hands on his heart, *‘to be laughed at more than having no toys or being hungry sometimes. Oh, if I could only be made straight like other boys, and— an not be sport for everybody, then I could work for mamma, but now I shall be a poor cripple all my life, and mamma will have to work, work all the time—— unless — Oh, sister, ao you think God would be 50 £00d as to let me become a painter— a great painter—and make pictures of all the beautiful things 1 see in the fire and in the lovely sky?” ; “Would people buy them, Bennie?” “Oh, yes, they give lots of money for them when the painter hasbeen dead hun- dreds of years and become an ‘old mas- tera? *‘Oh, Bennie dear, I don’t want you to die to sell your pictures.” *‘Oh, don’t be afraid; they are not good enough yet. I should have to write under them, ‘This is a horse,’ or ‘This is a cow.” "’ day be a great painter. I wish to thank him for you all for consenting to this trial, which is to your benefit as well as his. This day week when he has been well nourished we will see what we can do_for him. Which of you gentlemen will bu! his first picture?’ *1,”" “I,”’ “I,” cried all the students. “‘There’s a hundred orders for you, Ben- nie; you can go to work to-morrow.” They were soon out on the street again, and talked over everything. Arriving at Bennie’s poor home, his mother was at the door, anxiously watching for him. “Qb, darling!” she cried, vlasping him in her arms. The gentleman explained to her what he would do for the boy, without money and without price, for the sake of poor “humanity. The mother joyfully consented. Next day a great load of provisions, | warm clothing and fuel came to their | house, with a letter saying that Santa | Claus would take care that they had a | merry Christmas. So the week went by, and Bennie was in_fine condition when Santa Claus drove him to the college. No one was visible; and Bennie was put into a deep sleep, and did not see the students steal in on tiptoe and watch one of the greatest operations of modern times. The night before Christmas he was ten- | derly carried home. ‘“‘Here, madam, is your Christmas gift— a boy who will be straight and sound, and | an honor to both you and myself. Good- night.” Christmas morning Bennie awoke bright | and early. “Merry Christmas, mamma!’’ he called from his bed. “Merry Christmas, Mig- Then he laughed a clear, silvery, hearty laugh. Suddenly a knock sounded on the door. Mignonne hastily wiped Ler hands and opened it, and there stood—Santa Claus! or somebody remarkably like him, | He shook the snow off his great coat and | stamped it off his shoes. “Well, little girl, I hope you are not frightened at my visit?” he said in a friendly voice. “‘0—oh, no, sir; but Bennie said Santa | Claus forgot poor people, and—and we are | so poor since dear California.” “Oh, your papa is in—" ‘“He is dead, sir, mamma says, would have written to us.” “Idon’t believe my dear papa is dead,” spoke up little Bennie. “Ah! see,” said Santa Claus. **Come here!” Bennie arose smiling and hastened to him. But, oh, the grotesque tittle figure, and the grotesque laugh! Why, Santa Claus could not help laughin; one could t:ll they saw the pity of it. Ben- nie stopped suddenly, and bis beautiful eyes filled with tears. ‘Do you laugh, too?"’ he said reproach- papa went to golden or he % ully. | wanted to think about | "«{(h, no, no, no,” cried Santa Claus; “I | only lauglied because you did, and because I knew you would be 0 bappy at the pres- ent I am going to give vou for Christmas.” “There!—Bennie, you see!”’ said Mi nonne. “And something for mamma and ter— “*And, dear Santa Claus, something for papa, too; he might coms home by then,” pleaded Bennie. “Yes, something good for But, Bennie dear, 1 want to take you for a little ride while' sister is finishing the floor. You must not be in the damp.” all of you. you are the little boy I want to | too—no | nonne, and merry Christmas, dear, dear 1 Santa Claus.” T'he stockings were full and toys were {uled on the floor, and paints enough to | ast for years—each student had sent | something. | The fire was soon blazing and in a short | | time breakfast was smoking on the table— when ‘“rap-a-tap, tap” came on the doo Mignonne opened it quickly, and in | walked Santa Claus and a strange gentle- | man. apa ! shouted Bennie, holding out “Dear papa, Bennie is | his little arms. st ” and_ he was gently i c ng father’s arms. *How do you like your Christmas gifts, Bennie man?” “Oh! dear, dear Santa Claus, this is the best of all,” and he drew his head down | and kissed him, and made him share with | his dear ones the love of his tender littie eart, | “Well, as Santa Claus has done all he can for you at present, remember him in your prayers as Dr. Graham! Good-by, | dear Bennie. [ shall come to see you | often.” And Bennie pressed his hand and | God bless you, dear Dr. Santa Claus.” How tne7 "all thanked him, but he hastened to say, ‘A merry Christmas to you all,” and hurried away with a tender 1z in bis heart. It was a_joyous reunion, with a_story of | wild adventure, captivity and final success, and how the doctor found him as he was searching for them. % * Bennie became a great painter, but a still greater architect, and his delight was to build homes for the poor, healthy and | comfortable, and as pretty as little paiaces, L and he did many kindnesses to those who P THE KINDERGARTEN BAND. [From a photograph by Marta J. Phillip.] 4ill Christmas morning, and I shouidn’t be a single bit surprised if ever so many of you managed to guess about right. Rock Me to Sleep. And at night when he’s tired— For he's played the day tnrough— Clambers up on my lap, Does the little boy blue. He says he is sleepy And ready for bed— “Me wants to be rocked—" With a droop of his head. Then off come the stockings And each little shoe, and is hov'ring O'er little boy biue. Lulled with low cooing The mamma, 1€ loves best. His blocks in the corner, His kilt on the chair, His toys where he left them To whisper his prayer— But the prayer was ne'er finlshed— No“Amen" was said, For boy blue had foliowed Where the angels had led. Salem, Or. ‘THEL FAIRFAX. Little Bennie’s Christmas. “Is next week Christmas, Mignonne, really ?” asked little Bennie from his cor- ner by the fire, where he was making won- | derful pictures with a little cheap box of paints. “Yes—it—is—sure,” came in gusts from the little figure so busily ecrubbing the floor that it did not pause to make the reply. = *I guess Santa Claus won’t . bring many preésents to this placz; heforgets poor peo- ple,” said the little voice bitterly. *Oh, no, he don’t, Bennie dear, and I &m going out directly and get a whole lot of chips and pile them on the fire. Wgn't that be nice? and it will dry the floor. I | won't scrub where you are sitting till you are in bed; then I am going to try hard to | make Santa Claus remember us a little, anyways.”’ all we have a tree, Mignonnc?”’ “I—I don’t know; I don't think so, though.” “Q-h!" “‘Don’t feel bad, Bennie dear, and—yes, | you shall have one. T’ll ask for a piece of | evergreen when they are deccrating Sun- day-school and I'll make paper flowers and cut out horses—and I'll make it just splendid_for you—and mamma will be Bure to give us something.” “Poor mamma. When I'm a man she shall not work at all, but ride in a carriage and "have pretty things. Do— a— you ). Mignonne got his cap and her own dark cape and the comforter she had knitted for his neck. “Ill cover him up with my big buffalo robe. Youshall be nice and warm, little man. When mamina comes home tell her I want to see her. Now make the fire up bright; we shall be back before long,”” and away they drove amid the flying snow, the sleieh bells jinghing merriiy. Mignonne stared in wonder. “I thought | Santa Claus was only a fairy tale, but he | isn’t; for there he goes, and in a sleigh, too! Oh, won’t he give dear little Bennie | lots!” She went to work again with a | will and soon the floor was finished, a pile | of chips gathered and the fire burning | brightly. To little Bennie the ride was a glimpse of fairyland. The snow had ceased to fall and the shops were all brilliantly lighted and gay with wonderfully beautiful things. And Santa Claus was so merry. | “Now, little man, choose what you | would like mamma and sister to have.” *‘And papa.” “Oh!yes, I'm glad you did not forget | him; now tell me and Santa Claus will | bring them.” Bennie’s mother had often told them nice stories of fairies, brownies, giants and Santa Claus, but he had never believed there were such people, yet here was the real Kris Kringle, the genial gentleman who was going t6 make them all happy— it was wonderful! After a lot of things were selected, the sleigh turned into another street and soon stopped before a great buildine. “Now, Bennie, what is the greatest wish you have in the world 2" “Oh! that my dear papa and mamma—"" “‘Not about them, but for your own little self?” “Oh! Santa Claus, make me straight, so that I can grow up like other men, and become a great painter and architect,” cried Bennie eagerly. *Oh! so I'm Santa Claus, am I1?” and he laughed softly. “Well, I will be so to you, if you will let me, Bennie, in this build- ing are men who are trying to benefit just such dear little boys as you. Will you go with me and see them, so that before Christmas you may be straight and well 7 “Oh! yes, yes, dear Santa Claus! but tell them not to Jaugh at me—it pains me s0.” In a few moments they were in what appeured to Bennie a theater, and Santa Claus had put him on a table and a lot of young men were looking at him. At firet there was a ripple of merriment as Bennie stood there smiling, but when his big eyes filled with tears it ceased, and they were all so sorry. Spoke Santa Claus: ‘‘Gentlemen, this is a most remarkable case—a fall, incompetent doctors, and this is the result. Allow me to introduce to you Master Bennie Johnson, who will one | clear them away before they could build needed them, and never forgot or ceased to lave his good genius—dear Dr. Santa Claus. Avrice KinGsBURY COOLEY. SOME MORE GEOGRAPHY. A Lumbering Town. 8cor1a, Cal., December 13. Dear Editor of The Call: 1 live in a little unpainted town, thirty miles from Eureka, on Eel River. It is surrounded by hills with black stumps all over them, which make them look very queer. They wouid not look so black if they had not burnt them. It was just a big forest of trees before any one came to live here, and they had to any houses. Scotia is a pretty place in summer time, when everything is green except the flovers. It is so hot here in the summer tuat flowers bloom all the time. Our old mill was burnt down and they are just building a new one. 1t will be the largest redwood mill in the world. It will have three band saws and | one gang. | through. | sometimes, | the ground. | ToE CaLLand I am very much interested | | bright buttons; on his feet were pretty kid THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1895. DONALD, WHO SENT THE LETTER-PICTURE TO SANTA CLAUS. There are some large redwood | trees here, from five to_twenty-iive feet | The lumber is shipped from | Lere on cars and then it is loaded on | steamers and sent to all partsof the world. | Thef' raise sour oranges, sweet apples and plums here, and all kinds of berries. | There are a great many friendly pigs here | that stay around the houses. large creamery here, where they mak: butter. They send away in cars apples | and otaner kinds of fruit. There is a very nice schoolhouse upon the hill. We hav a picnic-ground, and we bave a pieni every summer. | The trees grow awi lose together, and when they are loaded with | snow, they fall against each other. It looks real pretty in autumn, with the leaves all red and yellow and falling on I wi nm could come and There is a | see it Trovie C. THOMPRON. Trudie, 8 years old. | December15. | Dear Call : San Francisco is a large City west of the Rocky Mountains, and Sen | Francisco Bay is the largest and bc\h\ harbor on the coast of North America. It is entered through a strait called the | Golden Gate. | San Francjsco is a seaport, and it is very | large. | The views are very fine, especiaily about the wharves, wher can see the ships | coming in and goi ut. , We Lave jolly times in San_ Francisco. | We go fishing, boating, swimming and to | see a number of football games. I am | ry thankful to you for publishing our | tters. THE CALL is one of the ereatest of our newspapers on the Pacific Coast. Yours | truly, T. I. REARDEN. ge 9 years. ' | A LUM NG TOWN. Dear Call : 1 live in a town in the moun- | tains, The climate is very warm in sum- | mer, but in the winter Jack Frost bites | your toes and pinches your nose till it is blue. He is awful. It snows here once-in a while. The river that flows throngh the valley is beautitul in summer, but in winter it is amuddy stream and carries logs out to sea. The Pucific Lumber Company hasa mill here and also a great many ca! They send lumber everywhere. the | sticking eround the men pile large piles of | lumber_fiff feet high and half a mile | long. This is all T will tell you for this | time. MaMiE ANNA TOPPENDORFF. Ten years old. Sax Fra: 0. CAL., Dec. 16, Dear Call: My papa is a subscriber to | in the Childhood’s Realm. My name is | Fannie Miller and T am 8 yearsold. Ilive| at 656 Eighteenth street and I go to the | Douglas school on Collingwood street. L am in the fourth gradeand number 8 in my | class, too. Will you please printa whole | page of Childhood’s Realm? Your con- stant reader, Fansie ELra MILLER. DONALD SERIES FOR TINY BOYS. NO. VIIL | The other day as Donald’s mamma was | walking along the street she saw coming | toward her a richly dressed lady holding | by the hand a tiny boy. The lictle fellow wore a beautiful sailor suit, all trimmed with shiny braid and | boots; bis hands were incased in kid gioves | and on the top of the golden curls was set a becoming sailor cap. Well, Donald’s mamma_ thought to her- self, what a handsome child! How happy he must be to have such a lovely mamma and to be so beautifully dressed and she was all ready to smile at the little fellow, but, oh, goodness me, when she got close enough to see his face she changed her mind very quickly, because instead of a happy, smiling face’ she saw one all cov- ered with ugly frowns and puckers and she heard a cross, whiney voice saying to the sad-faced mamma: “No, I don’t want that. Iwant—" That was all she heard, but it was I won't have it. | smiles as he hopved and skipped along enough to let her know that the little boy was a ‘‘tease,” and in spite of all his mamma did for him he was not one bit happy. Well, this made Donald’s mamma think, and she just wondered how many real happy little, boys she would meet that day. Before she finished her shopping she had passed a great many finely clothed little nice | boys who had never known what it was | come homeand find the stockings they to want for anything, but the very hap- piest little fellow she saw was a tiny chap bout as old as Donald, whose toes were 1l sticking out of his worn shoes; whose clothes were old and tattered, his poor ragged coat being pinned around him with two large safety pins. But oh, how rosy his cheeks were, and how his eves did parkle, and how his face beamed with stopping every now and then to look at the splendid Christmas things in the great windows. As he stood for a few moments before | vne of the large clothing-stores admiriny | How glad Iam!” | the little wax boys aressed in such lovely ! lap, and began to search for the little darning-gourd. But the gourd was notin the basket. She got up, and looked here and there and everywhere, but could not find it. At last she sat down and drew a stocking-foot on her left hand. *I must try and darn them this way,” she said with a sigh, “‘but it iz harder, and Iam very, very tired.” And with that she leaned back in her rocking-chair and fell fast usleep. Then there came a chuckle from under the bureau. “What’s that?” asked the darning- needle, with his one eye turned in the di- rection of the sound. “It's 1,” was the answer, and out rolled the little gourd. “Why did you hide away?” asked the needle. “I'm tired ot being scratched all over while darning stockings,’” said the gourd. “It's bad enough at other times, butat Christmas time it is too much.” . “Suppose you had a hundred pins stuck into you at a time, what then?” said the round pincushion. “Oh, you're so fat it can’t hurt you much,” said the gourd. “Well,” said the scissors, “‘you oughtn’t to grumble. I have to do much more than | you do.” | ‘‘But then, you see, you haven’t been | used to anything else,” said the little gourd. “But think of me. Once I hung high on a beautiful green vine. Sweet flowers grew all about me—I think I can smell them now. The birds came and sang to me—I think I can hear them now. | The butterflies and the bees nodded to me as they flew by—I think I can see them now. Ob, how happy 1 was, And t»be taken from that lovely home and tnrown into a workbasket and made to help darn children’s stockings, it—it is—is really too much.” o % “Stop your grumbling,” sai e scis- sors, “and let me talk awhile. If you had been left there what would have become of yon? When winter came you'd have | found yourself hanging on a dry, brown rope instead of a beautiful green vine. And you couldn’t have smelled the flow- ers, because there wouldn’t have been any flowers; and you couldn’t have heard the birds, or have seen the beesand the butter- flies, because they’d have gone, too. And there you would have hung, a lonely little gourd, rudely shaken by wintry winds. “Yes,” added the darning-needle, “‘the | scissors knows. He was_lost outdoors all winter. There isn't much youcan tell him about a winter in a garden.” 7 “As for the children,” said the fat pin- | | cushion, “it is a pleasure to do anything | for them. They are very nice children. | And their mamma. too, is just the mamma | for such children.” | “And how neatly she keeps the work- | basket,”” said the scissors. ‘‘It’s really a | pleasure to live in it.” : | «“And what a pity it wonld be,” said the | darning-needle, *“if the children should want to hang up for Santa Claus just as | they left them, with the same holes—" | *“Don't say any more—don't say any | more,”” here broke in the little gourd. “['ve heard quite enough. I'm sorry 1 hid, land sorry I wrumbled. I’ll roll over and | touch our mistress’ foot, and she’ll wake {up and see me, and then, perhaps, the | children’s stockings will be darned in | time, after all."”? | So it rolled over and touched the mother’s foot once—twice—thrice; and the third time she awoke and saw tl goura, and savin, “Why, there it i picked it up. And when the children came home from WHICH IS THE HAPPY BOY? suits and overcoats, he was joined by another ragged urchin. “Hello, Tim, aint them kids beauts?’ Which one ud you ruther be?” Donald’s mamma heard nim say, and then he was off again, whistling merrily as. he went down the street, with- out one cross look on his chubby face. Then she wondered what it is that really makes tiny boys happy; and she wishea that the two little boys about whom she has told you might change places until after Christmas, don’t you? And now Donald and his mamma wish all the tiny boys who have liked to listen to their little stories a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. . The Little Gourd That Grumbled. Christmas eve, and six children’s stock- ings to be darned before bedtime. Mrs. Chequidden — the children’s mother — couldn’t even think of darning more than one of each pair. Each child needed one to hang up for Santa Claus; and wanted that stocking to be in the best of order. This Christmas eve they had all gone to take tea with their grandmother, and be- fore leaving had begged their mamma to be sure and darn the stockings that they were going to hang up in the big chimney- place. So-she took the big workbasket on her If icebergs all were (andy-hi 2 l\r)& qugar Wl)'.t(tll.zén' g Ao aurora boreali|e%4 If I\r;& the b?‘g North Pole —_ e “ olar bears were‘, meeK ag lanbqT3C a7 I p ~ 910 & Z sl & J P %‘s G Z With lugeioug fruit on every limb, voy 15 there P like to bg. 1a ride a-straddle the polar bear, Ana the Pole s ghake =-ov, like fuq = Till the fruit fell into a 3ugar'—5qow (oat, And A eat tinl the aay wag . —_— — e Aoqe. - IF THE NORTH POLE WAS A CHRISTMAS TREE. their grandmamma’s they found their stockings as good as new and hung them up in a row. And Christmas morning each stocking was stuffed full of Christmas presents!— Margaret Eytinge in St. Nicholas. A Realistic Note. He visited the tomb where his beloved was laid. Carrying a lighted candle and kneeling by her ceffin he said nnssionatel;’. “Would I could die! Would I could diei” Just then the wind closed the door and extinguished the light.. The bereaved lover, who had just prayed for death, rushed to the door; he could not open it; he tore at it, knocked, kicked, struggled, calling loudly ror heip. No answer, only the ntter silence and darkness of the tomb. His wish to die was forgotten. He sank down and wept; his tears were not for his beloved, but for himself. He felt pangs of hunger; thought of his candle, cut it into four parts. e ate the first quarter the first day, the second quar- ter on the second day, the third on the third dey, the last quarter the fourth day. No more, and he must die of starvation. He made one more and a desperate effort to open the door. If suddenly opened and the keeper of the'cemetery stood before him; the sunlight blinded bim—he fell from exhaustion. He had been there just four hours.—Vogue. Lee’s Magnanimity. Early in the war, before Robert E. Lee had risen to tbe eminence he afterward acquired, he was severely criticized by General Whiting, a man who had stood at the head of his class at West Point, and who was considered by all the Confeder- ates a very bright man. One day Presi- dent Davis called Lee to him to question him rezarding an officer for an important command. “What do Davis. Lee at once said that Whiting was one of the ablest men in the army, and well g""’% :lo]r the poszé And officer who had ear: e conversation drew ls‘idDe and ead: the general ‘Don’t you know what unkind t» ‘Whiting has been saying about you?* Lee replied: *I ‘understood that the President desired to know my opinion of Whiting, not Whiting’s opinion of me.”’— New York Mail Express. D e — GOLD pens and pencils, silver and metal ink- stands, fancy blotters, paper and envelopes in retty boxes, fancy calendars i Fouthar, Bibles and prayer-bosks moby rpond g;lrnnte \?:l‘l‘ écg:ngble (,;lhflumu presents. San- 3 . have t i 3 ety and at reasonable faOpe et ing during December. yon think of Whiting?” asked ings prices. Open every even- ——————— Canada lacks only 237,000 square miles of being as large as the whole egntlnent of Europe. It is nearly thirty times as large as Great Bmgin and Ireland, and is 500,- g?;,:&“‘" miles larger than ttie United NEW TO-DAY. NOLAN BROS. SHOE (0. NOTICE! WE HAVE NO BRANCH STORES ON MARKET STREET. WE D0 ALL OUR BUSINESS AT 812 AND 814 MARKET STREET, PHELAN BUILDING. : WE ARE OVERSTOCKED ON MEN’S HOLIDAY SLIPPERS And will close them out at less than cost. Embroidered Opera Slippers .....$1 per palr idered Opera £1 25 per pair broidered 500 pairs of Mer lipper: 3 ..$1 50 and $2 per pair Call and see these Slippers and you can’t help but buy a pair. SLIPPERS and SHOES Are the best and most useful Presents you can make for the holidays. Opera. DURING THE HOLIDAY SEASON WE WILL MAKE A GENERAL REDUCTION ON ALL OUR SHOES, We have several lines of the Latest Style Shoes that we will close out at cost to make room for our spring stock. | “Yon are all aware of the trouble of getting fitted ortwo widths. In.our as we carry the large Pacific Coast and can fit s that only ¢ ave no troubl of any house on th &ny 100t from AAA to B WE RON A LARGE FACTORY And sell Shoes at just what other dealers pay for them. All we want is the wholesale profit and give the retail profit to our custo It is & yetl- Kknown fact that we are hochouse that does & rushing business the year around. This is clear proof that we sell better Shoes for less money than any other house. BEAR IN MIND! 1 have nothing to lose and all to gain by buying our Shoes a: onr store. If S1i06s are not as repri= senied return them at our expense and we will refund the money. CATALOGUES. Send for our New Illustrated Catalogue and see our prices for the latest style Shoes. o er: Mail orders will receive prompt ate tention. OLAN BROS. SHOE CO. 812614 MARKET STREET, 9 and 11 O'Farrell St., PHELAN BUILDING. Long Distance Telephone 5527. 25th Anniversary weE AReE EEEPING IT UP. “KEEPING IT_UP.” THE OLD G. R. B. When shopping for Christmas We propose you shall sea That :he placs of all others Is “The old G. R. B. ings without number F‘!;ro:heagh Christmas tree Fiil tha counters and shelving At “The oid G. R. B. Here the prices are lowest, And well may they be, For the public is with us, “The old G. R. B.” Come early and avoid the rush. Nore—Goods dellvered free of charge in Sanss- lito, Blithedale, Mill Valley, Tiburon, San Rafecl Stockton, Haywards, Valléio, Napa, San Lorenzo, Melrose, San Leandro. Oskiand, Alameda a0 Berkeley. 718 MarKket St { A 7 ) v R 4