OCR Text |
Show Snowflakes. "What's them, muver?" "Toys, my dear, toys." "Toys! They're not like mine! Mine is just my rag doll, Judy, and the old soap box that Jasper, Jas-per, the grocer, gave me." The little tot who asked these questions pressed its pinched, wee face against the great cold pane of the toy-shop window, which the beating sleet and snow were fast transforming into a sheet of glittering crystal, while its patient mother stood, unmindful of the storm, sheltering it with her tattered wrap from the wicked blast, that it mght drink in the glories of the fairy Christmas world from which dire poverty exiled them. "Are they really jes' toys ?" "Jos' toys." replied the mother, smiling faintly. "Toys that little chil'ren like me can play with?" "Children not quite like you, dear," answered the mother, sadly. "An' they can break 'em all open an' see the insides, like I do Judy, sometimes?" "In that they are like you, dear." "And that big doll-house it must be for a dolly but I could almos' live in it mysef. But you could not ; so I doan want that ! Why, there's a dolly mos' as big as me! But her clos' is better. Xow, ain't that silly! She is dressed in furs! An' she don't need 'em but you an' me do, muver, out here where it's cold; my, ain't it cold! My feet's mos' froze." "It's standing here so long; some, dear, we'll go," the mother said, stealthily sweeping a snow-flake snow-flake or was it a stray tear? from her cheek. "Oh, no; not yet! This is my C'ris'mas present. pres-ent. You said you'd bring me out tonight to see the pretty things that Santa Claus would give good in'." "All right, dear, I will wait." Another passer lingered here, casting a careless gaze into the pretty window a man of middle age, well dressed in rich, warm furs, protected from the cold, but in his face the lines of care were deep other elements than ice and snow can freeze and deaden feeling. The tattered youngster prattled on, unmindful of the rich intruder. "Oh, muver, there's a little stove! It can't cost much, an' looks so warm an' cozy, I almos' feel the heat right through the glas! But I s'pose 'twould cos' too much for us to buy, though wouldn't it, muver? (with a sidelong glance up into the troubled face, from which no answer came). Wouldn't it? Let's ask 'cm!" (with a tug at the cold listless hand to which it had been clinging). The man looked down into the eager face, looked grave, then smiled, and went into the toyshop. toy-shop. "Oh, look murer, there it goes! They're takin' it away! That man has bought it for some other child, I s'pose an' look, there goes the dolly!" y ) 1 ' ! And so it prattled on, as one by one the pretty things were taken from the window. "Come, little one, we must go now," the mother moaned. "Xot yet; not yet! It doesn't cost us nohin'!" Its little soul could not conceive how much the mother suffered. They turned to go as the grave, sad man came, laden, from the toyshop with the trifles he had purchased came straight to them and in the mother's arms deposited his burden. The woman started, looked up in his face, then at her child. "What's this?" "It's something for the baby," the man said, gently. "I ain't a baby; I'm most four! An' who are you?" "I'm Santa Claus, my little man; and tomorrow tomor-row will be Christmas." "But these can't be for me! They're all for little boys and girls whose papas have lots of money rich folks like you. for you're not Santa Claus. Have you no little boys an' girls at home to take 'em to? You'd better keep 'em, for we're used to poverty, muver an' me; we've nothin,' an' I doan think ever had." The woman's eyes confirmed the baby's talk. "You have a world," the man replied; "a world not bought with money. You have each other!" Then he went his way. The Leader. i. |