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Show loved to show Ids strength in the field, his skill in the corral ! How soon his mother found she had no boy at all, but two grown men in her household! And then that sad, sad night when Dave, his father, had been hrooght home by neighbors who found him in the road. Just at the crossing'-of the creek, in the lower end of the farm? it was. No one ever knew iow it happened, hap-pened, but all supposed he had slipped from his wagon as it lurched on the prairie trail. It was piled high with wood from the valley; perhaps he ha-1 been clambering down to steady the load as it lurched, and slipped under the great rear wheel. There was frost in the earth, and a little snow on it; she remembered there was still snow . on his face when they laid him In the room. . . . David had stood by her for two. years, but his infatuation for the Ransom Ran-som girl had been his undoing. They would have nothing of the farm, after that. David could earn big wages in a distant city, working in an automobile factory, where there were no cows to milk and no chores to do after supper. So they had gone. She had blessed them what else could a mother do? and had settled down to her farm and her memories. For some time glowing letters came back from David, and from his wife, whom Mrs. Derrit still thought of as ,ViV-'C-'t-'tVAHW4-' Just fir Christmas lou Know by Robert Stead E2&HE sun was gilding the jiff a S crests of the Rockies. How IPIjt. gilded them, this Christ-Tj Christ-Tj , A. mas Eve! A line of gold ran to north and south, blocking them out against the champagne cham-pagne sky like huge crumpled masses of purple cardboard. Great fan-shaped shafts of light were piercing the heavens, touching to bursts of color every tattered remnant of cloud. But '' below, the shadows were settling on the foothills, and In the valleys it was almost dark. Almost dark, too, It was in the heart of little Mrs. Derrit. For three years she had worked the farm alone, and each Christmas seemed a little darker than the one before. She was beginning begin-ning to wonder If it is true that time heals all sores. It was five years now since Dave had died, and three since young David left the farm, and the ache seemed heavier than ever. Mrs Derrit rose from the rocker where she had been sitting beside her kitchen stove. The gloaming had swallowed swal-lowed up the walls; her few cheap pictures pic-tures had faded Into night; only a stray flicker from the fire glinted on the cream .separator in the corner of the room. She crossed the floor and with a hand fumbling in the darkness, found the match-box on the wall. Then she lighted her lamp and set it on the kitchen table. One must eat, even on Christmas Eve. If Olson, the hired man, had stayed It would have been not quite so bad. But he had done his chores up early and left for, the dance in the Swedish settlement across the valley. Olson was Mrs. Derrit's right hand, without which the farm work would have been Impossible. lie was a bachelor, living In a lean-to beside the machinery shed, and coming to the house only for his meals, which he ate for the most part in silence. Mrs. Derrit placed food on her kitchen kitch-en table, and sat down before it. Her meal was frugal, not so much from necessity as from weariness. She ate and drank mechanically, then arose, washed her few dishes and put them away, wiped her table and spread a colored cloth upon It. The light from the lamp fell gently on its patterns. She drew the rocker to the table and sat down. Tlie little clock on the shelf said only six o'clock. It was three hours until bedtime, and who could say how long until morning? Her little hands found work to do mending for Olson. For a while her needle darted back and forth, trailing a little thread of silver light In the plow from the lamp; then presently work and needle rested In her lap. For was not this Christmas Eve? And down through memory came a procession proces-sion of these gracious anniversaries, marking the birth of the Child, and sacred to children everywhere In The Winding Road Along Which They Brought Him. the Ransom girl. She held no spite, did Mrs. Lerrit, but if it hadn't been for the Ransom girl ! Then after a while the letters fell off, until they almost stopped. It was two months now since she had heard from David. Xot even a letter for Christmas! .Mrs. Derrit arose and went to her window. The moon was. now up. Hooding Hood-ing the great shoulders and sides of the valley with light, just as it bad done that night when they brought Dave home to her, with the little patch of snow still on his cheek. There was snow tonight, too, just a light sifting of it ns there had been then. . . . It would be cold and frozen down by the creek. For a while she had avoided avoid-ed the spot, but afterwards it had a fascination for her. Often, on moonlight moon-light nights, she had walked that far. She wondered If Dave her Dave knew? Perhaps. Who could say that even tonight, this Christinas eve, he was watching, waiting somewhere, Wondering If she still remembered? Remember? Aye. for ever and ever! She drew on n shawl. It could not be so very cold, the night was so bright, the moonlight so soft against the edge of the hills. The door creaked as she opened it; there was frost on Ihe binges, but her heart was warm; she was going to do her vigil for Dave. Down the winding road she went; the road along which they Had brought him home. How warm it was! Or was it cold? Cold and warmth are so much alike. How the road stretched on and on! It never had seemed so far. And the moon why was the moon growing dark, when It had not yet reached the zenith? And what made it sway like that? Ah, here was the spot, the very spot. She sat down on the ground. This was where they found him. Her hands touched the snow, but It was not cold. Nothing wtis cold. All was warm. But the moon had gone out. Why had the moon gone out? . . . Ah, there bo was! Dave! She felt his arms about her; she felt his kiss on her lips. There was snow on his cheek ! . . . "Don't you know me. mother? Don't you know me?" he was saying, as she opened her eyes. She was In her room, there was no doubt about that. Yes, It was her room; through the open door she could see the cream separator sep-arator In the kitchen. But who was that woman, that Why, It was tho Ransom girl ! And what was she carrying? car-rying? She was bringing II lo her; why was she bringing It to her? And David, kneeling beside her bed? "We brought you another little David, for ( 'hrlsl mas, mother," Ihe Ransom girl was saying, and before Mrs. Derrit knew It a lillle face was pressed against hers, and suddenly her bard, dry cheeks were wel. "David, David." she cried. "Your Cranilpa'H David!" Big Dmid's bund was In hers. "You found me on the road. David?" she asked, lifter a while. "Yes," he answered, gci-lly. ".lust -Just where-- It happened." Her eyes were big and bright. "1 knew he would come," she said. "But I didn't know he would bring you, and wee David, and - and the Ransom girl I" "Will, here we lire," the Ran-ami girl rejoined. "The i lly Ih all i igbl for a while, but when a limn him a wife, ami a family. H'h Ihic( lo the fiirinl We wore keeping ll II secret from you, ln t for- Jn.'-t for Christmas, you l.nou 1" (iw. tW'iti'iu NnwHfiiiiwr Uulun.) j 1" !rJ Jkl jf Then Presently Work and Needle Rested In Her Lap. Christendom. In a moment or two Mrs. Derrit was no longer seated In tier little cabin In the vast fnotliill valley, but was back In thai home down Last where little David had lirsr entered her life. What Christmas lives were those! What laughter and tdirloks of delight when I'.ig Dave, her husband, with his great fur coal with the red sash ami whiskers of cotton balling burst through Ihe door, being unable to liecoiiiinoilati: his bulky loria to the chimney after the Iradillou of Santa Clans! What feasting and fun, und, after little David had grown tire, I of play, what hours of d slic rap lure linking husband nml wile! It all M-ciiii'd now so Mrnugo ami unreal, uh though ll had been pari of home ii f- Ions Inea ru a t Ion, Don n Hie years came niciiioi v David i.ih now a healthy bul. Trouble M-liie, noloet ilnes, loit Iliir b;ol; )ll-. i.-i-i llov. ing i lib that Inn Uhne .!'!( 1 1 Ho innlher C 1 1 1 1 1 1 Ulnh T .l.'llul', ;.ld IC'lie would '.'! I el i 1 1 1 1 1 i h. '1 In n the hi i-.i I. Ing of Ihe oil liouie llei and Ihe plnng" Into the great We I. Yoiinr I i.ive had t.il.oii lo the ru -. land c. on e i eaibl y ban did liii falhoi, How lie fcrcwl How lo- |