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Show Christmas S Spirit mi Reality .p fcl James Lewis Hays Jii tOTJG and Lon had been shoveling shovel-ing snow from the streets the day before Christmas. Now, in their dim, drafty tenement room they washed the icicles from their grizzled white mustaches and sat down to quarrel over their tea Doug was an old tea hound, as Lon would quickly tell you in tones of immense disgust. And a sheik, too, parting his hair and tying ty-ing his everlasting ties! They didn't exactly quarrel for a quarrel has two sides, our side and the wrong side. And Doug never would say a harsh word, a trait which goaded old Lon to greater explosions. It must be revealed here that "Doug" and "Lon" were nicknames, sacred because "Jes' Mary" had bestowed them. Doug, the optimist, with his up-curling up-curling mustache, was Doug Fairbanks Fair-banks and Lon with his direful coun-j coun-j tenance was named for Lon Chaney uhnm fortunately he would never see, being "agin"' the theater. "Jes' Mary" was gone, now. For four years she had kept house for these old partners. It was their fault, they knew, that she'd left them. They had. in fact, "got her adopted" by as fine a family as graced the North Siore Drive. But South Wabash Wa-bash and the whole city of Chicago did seem a miserable place on Christmas Christ-mas eve without the little ragamuffin ragamuf-fin who had said, when she was eight years old and deserted at their door, Mint she was "jes' Mary." 'Christmas," harked Lon, "don't ican n thin' but snow an' crowds a ,-whIi;' i Sloppy, freezin' weather . .( an' suckers fightin' with each other to get up to the counters to ba I robbed." Lon dipped his bread Into his tea viciously as if he were punching an antagonist. "But, Lon," chirped Doug, "Tub. know this snow's healthy 'specially at four dollars a day for ol' war-horses war-horses like us. An', say, the colder it gets the more I jest set my mind to thinkin' about the time we crawled out of the Furnace Crik country in '93. That makes the snow seem like a real blessin'." Lon snorted. "Yes, you old idiot! An' when we wuz at Furnice Crik, I had to tote you to the water hole. You wuz plum out of your nut an' still sayin', 'Anyhow, this beats be-in' be-in' froze in the Montana Gold rush.' Bah !" "But, Lon" "Lon be hanged I" snapped the other oth-er and his voice had a catch in it, "Ye might as well start callin' ma Jake agin'. I reckon 'Jes Mary's' clean forgot us by now." "No, she aint !" shouted Doug in a frightened tone. "It's Christmas an.' them folks is showin' her a big time, o' course. Maybe down at Palm Beach. . Come New Year, she'll ba droppin' In on us." He pulled Ms little mustache desperately. But Jake was bitter. "They forget," for-get," he said. "An' Christmas 13 bunk." He pulled out his thin worn pocketbook, flattened it, and glared at it. "Bring on your presents, Santy Claus," he growled. "Here's my stockin. Here's the money belt of the man that was third partner In the Gold Goat Mine." "Say, listen," grinned Doug. "You an' me saw the eclipse of the sua once, but you didn't learn nothln' from it. It sure looked as if the little moon had blotted out all the sunlight in the world. But the sun's still do-in' do-in' business. An' yet, you still let a little thing like money, a little thing like Bill West's throwin' down his partners, blind you from seeln' the Christmas spirit." He grabbed Lon's pocketbook and held it close to Lon's face. "Now, then, this pocketbook is your Iittla troubles and that big door there repa-'sents repa-'sents all the good In the world. You can't see it fer keepin' yer iittla troubles close before yuh." "Bughouse!" roared Lon. But suddenly the door burst open and "Jes' Mary" fell upon them, shouting and kissing them till they glowed with embarrassment and delight de-light "You dear old boys !" she cried, "We've been all the way to Arizona and back, and there's a big ranch out there that's to be all yours. Mr. West says so. I found him. There was a big mistake about the mine. Look !" She pointed to the door. On the doorstep, In sombrero nnd bearskin coat towered Big Bill West I A moment of astonishment, of appraisal. ap-praisal. Then three weather beaten hands leaped to clasp each other and three husky, Joyful voices shouted as I one : "Well, I'll be hanged! Merry Christmas !" . 1928. Western Newgpaper Union.) |