The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 18, 1904, Page 12

mother! gloomily, from me. ought eve P home for now he f good heart ing—to y, you hd you, even Mrs. Doolan you—Mrs 1 you, of the untidy hair, ops of water with her T g to h skirts— om all the lodgers m Mr. Getts, about the poor the k hall bedroom the pictures he makes— ged this blessed season. r the rent I'm carin’, but be. y vay out in ' will some d you go speak a word Getts s voice to fon. “So I came, boy, because of Mrs. Doolan with her mops and tubs and young you have held off one: aus fr us here on Folsom street.” ‘1 know mutter Harvey, “I'm sen- eitive, and the Doolans—" 'God bless the Doolans!™: cried Old Getts I am to be the Doolans’ Santa Claus to-nig There's a bit of a tree and little Maggie Thomas, the and the Ramseys, down at Slacovich's ery, ip qur block. I wanted te e ¥ou, but—well, your people are coming—now.” “Yes, 1 can’t keep them off. I can’t even invite them out to a restaurant— or enything, J—I—" Harvey broke off, Jost in his cffort to imagine Old Getts of the Merchants’ Exchange as St. Nick down at John Slacovich’s bakery on Folsom street “I have it exclaimed- Mr. Getts. “Receive them in my rooms. At 8, you say? They come for an hour and & bit f sup ¢ studio, your four- room Eat, laugh, be mer- ry and, presto!—you whisk them away to the 11:45 train, home for the morrow. Home, with all sorts of golden opinions of you for the mother's ears—and no one the wiser éxcept you and I ‘When the days of success come—the great, wonderful days—and Old Getts is for- gotten, you cap tell them—and laugh with them. Come—your easels and pictures and artist's traps—hurry them down to my den—scatter things about—e«the sweet face, make it a bit of Bohemia!” Mr. Getts had gathered an armful of sketches from the chair, while Harvey was gazing at him, astonished at the rapid fire of his ideas. “But, hold on—hold on!” he protdited, and then, seizing his old lounging jack- et, he darted after the old man. At the door of his bachelor apartments, Old Getts was waving his hand airily on his way to the street. “Bring everything down, the place is yours—till midnight. There are buns and tea, a cold chicken and a lobster in the sideboard—everything is yours for Aunt Nell and the girls. I am to carry Maggie Thomas to Slacovich's merry- making. I must be off. Now, remem- ber—till midnight.” . Was this Old Getts, the codger, the moneybags, the amusing figure of an- other age of gentlemen in dress and gallantry? Harvey was bewildered by his ingenuity; then he set tp arranging his sketches and hurrying about the luxurious room, with a touch here and there to get the artistic atmosphere. A great open fire snapped before a book- littered table, with huge leathern chairs about; a piano with a red-shaded lamp, a fine old sideboard glittering with cost- ly plate and service, and on the walls were pictures that had held their groups of connoisseurs in Old World galleries—a Corot, a Millet—above the art treasures gathered from many lands. It was unthinkable at Mrs. Doolan's—Harvey was still staring about in a dream when the two girls burst in upon him unannounced. There had been a conspiracy below stairs! And behind his sister and a girl, who tried vainly to hide her happiness at the sight of him, was Aunt Nell of yet young, always young, with its memories, under her soft, whitening hair. W \“Q “ Jyory Sanra A CLAUS FIGURE, N o wrrE G AND_ FACE, “Oh, Harvey,” cried Janette, “such a queer place to live, and to gather such beautiful things in an old house on such a street! But I suppose it's Bohemian and all that. An artist gets color and atmosphere in such a quar- ter, doesn't he?” Harvey thanked the stars that his sister, from the interior, knew noth- ing of the city and its “quarters.” “But the funny old man we met on the street, dodging out of your place,” said Barbara, ‘“loaded with baskets and boxes, and with a turkey under his arm! What dear rooms, Harvey; no wonder you can write such beaus- tiful letters of them and your sue- cess.” @ SUDDENLY CAVGHZ i FROM HIS HEAD AN FRANCISCO SUNDAY Then she blushed, thinking she had sald too much, and turned to look at the sketches and water colors he had scattered about the room as carelessly CALL as if they had just been dashed off and needed only to be gathered and taken to the exhibitions. Harvey, to avoid the girls’ questions, tcok Aunt Nell into a corner to have her tell him of the old home news. The cold, little bedroom and the ugly prospect of the Doolan back yard were far from this night as he sat with these three. Old Getts was something of a.magician and a godfather, as well as St. Nick down at Slacovich’s bakery. And a sort of masculine Cinderella was Harvey, awaiting the dread stroke of 12. " The girls were at the piano now, singing an old home song of the sort that he had been hungry for these R S T i e s 2O & & A Christmas Tree 2 & | [Continued from preceding page.] tell me the truth when I went up to his deathbed at Edinburgh,” she mur- mured: “but he passed away before I arrived. Poor Frank, he was too weak to tell me the truth when he lived, but he wanted justice done to you after he passed away.” “And justice has been done in God's own time, darling.” “But these many years of sofrow,” said Ellen, pressing back the hair from his lined forehead. “You and I are gray and old. We are in the winter of life.” “But summer, eternal summer, reigns in our hearts, beloved. Tell me, Ellen, 4id you plan this Christmas tree?” “Yes. I could not walt while you read the confession. I thought it best that in the very place you suffered for poor weak Frank you should be restored to your rights. Mrs. Trail knew+of you through Dorothy, and when I told her all she gave me your addregs. She then wroté to you at my request, and we arranged the Christmas tree and that the children should meet you'at the gate. Now the old people are coming up: from the village with the rector, and we will have our Christmas party. ‘We will marry, Will, and your daugh- ter shall be mire.” “My daughter!” Will smiled. “Doro- thy calls, me father, as I taught her to do, but she is the child of ‘my brother. Her mother and father died when she was born, and I looked after her until. she was adopted by Mrs. Trail. And with Mrs. Trail, love, she must remain.” “Then you have mot married?” Ellen, in a low voice. “My heart, I have always beer true to the only woman I ever loved.” Ellen could not speak. There in the light of the Yuletide tapers she was folded in her lover's arms. A bright future had cpened for both. The ghost- ly Christmas tree had given place to a real one, and the Child-Christ had given her the greatest of all gifts—the one for which she had longed through all these weary years. “Thank heaven ~oh, thank heaven!” she murmured. said months. In the music rack Janette discovered Mr. Getts' old-fashioned silk_hat. “Oh, Harvey, do you wear this?" she cried. “A fellow needs something of the sort,” began Harvey, “operas and—af- fairs—you know.’ His sister stole behind him as he sat holding Atnt Nell's hand and slipped the ancient tile upon his head. It went well over his ears; the two con- Spirators retreated, laughing at his discomfiture, “Jt can’'t be yours,” they shouted, {'such a fit, and a funny old hat.” “Now, I see it ism’t,” retorted he, boldly, “why, it's Stith’s—he was In tcln' a rare-bit last night, after the Dlay > “And left his hat?" queried Barbara, “how funny." “‘Yes, queer minded—very.” “But a gentleman couldn't leave his hat!" protested Aunt Nell, warmly. “Oh, it's quite common with Smith— he’s an odd sort—very eccentrie—all these painters are! And I say, don’t bother—let’s eat.’ There’s a chicken and buns and tea and—and—lobster. Oh, yes, certainly—now, where is that lobster? I believe Smith has hidden it—Smith is 'positively* unique! He'd steal a lobster any day—all these ar- tists and. literary chaps would.” The enforced host had 'rather a bad time of it with the sideboard and pantry— “where’s the tea urn—and the buns? Oh, yes, and the chafing-dish? Aunt Nell, I'mgonfoundedly absent-minded!" But by making a pretended virtue of his ignorance and carrying on a fire of Jokes, Harvey managed through, for the girls explored Mr. Getts’' sideboard chap, « Smith—absent- JACKSON to their own satisfaction SNppe went famously g Janette 1a ‘ bygone 1 ing over the tea th Dutch clock str and holdir just taker ey The y¢ sary; in all th clasp the I ple were abe with the sir greetings. Then the hc stairs, dreaming of son had come to him Barbara's fi room he wateh »f the city h burne bakery. Maggie The had been carried t Claus himself. T slept in the Ramsey uring the toys that St for them. The old man Doolan stairs. In his some warm, hum night’s -guests the fire, still t party, with s below his round, Old Getts was tired n ing gayety where he had bee est of them all was wont to b sunk in thoug' he Christmas 4 there sh at this rejoici thirty yea it had done, th sire. In this slept and fre wea breathles drove back Y have fallen here. n dismay at the figure ris “I beg you ‘this cannot Harvey—Mr. E The red an bowed, staring shaggy, false brows. plac eyes followed forward with “Oh, no—t locket—I ca He- picke. about to seize touch was the gold er's face. She to receive it, frig “This yours—mad was almost a cry of e “Yes. Why, who— The Santa Claus caught the white w and face; he straight I to her with an exclamation. “Oh, would you belleve—could you believe—a wonderful thing? King, he has come back to -l Aunt Nell stared at frightened than before. ghe was stumbling, old Getts her, led her to the couch, was crying out, caressing her, eager with passion, with joy with the wonder of it ellie! It loved you then room. up is ue—true Yes, you'w: as that I come to me, dear heart 1 » not need to. understand—you have come “Yes,” she whispered, “I waited— waited—even I believed that and the Midnight were ringin Lorses beca Barbara p Chri stairs to see why J return. They came upon Harvey in the hall, listening outside of a door The voices within were very low, bu Harvey hushed the girls as though to him had been given some wonderfu understanding. ‘Where dear {Aunt Nell?” ispered to him. T came down to thank him,” vey muttered, away.” But some one stirred within room. Old Getts suddenly flung door.wide open. Then he stood by th couch where Aunt Nell lay in a peace that needed no intervretation Stin young and fair and kind she appeared by some glad transfiguration, and Mr Getts was very oroud and erect, with something a-glitter on the white 1 Har- “and now—oh, come th of Santa Claus that still hung from kis neck. He stooned to k Aunt Nell's hand and then smiled upon them. “Come in, come in,” he cried. “Ah, boy, I came back an hour ago before your guests departed and stood out- side the door—alone! Then I stole awdy again, listening to all the joy and laughter you had brought this Christmas night into my home—that has been empty and Ionesome as my heart—till now!”