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Show f fflattM in th ilnt&mu I ; i By MARGARET HILL McCARTER ! t OA. C. McCLURO CO. M j b ' WNU SERVICE I U5' I synopsis tiurlii't a bll77nrd-wrnckcd December S ...line. Turi Wilherspoon. veteran west-Vkw west-Vkw mail carrier, joins a Broup of i; i the Star City hotel, lie tells , f his best Christmas of little Plike" Gabel. who sot his name from ..iiMnS a'" fi'0"1 'lis habit of saying ll.'s plav like." Tod often takes ilikc" home from school with him on ' rvlral mail route, and teams to love Z lit tie lad. "P'like." an orphan, lives .i, poverty-stricken Grandma Gabel ,or son, Tube, a slow-witted, kind-Girted kind-Girted bov. "P'like" attends school at liirict 33! taucht by Ruth Ravenstow, :"boautiful girl, seemingly friendless. J.,, seems very unhappy, and refuses to borne friendly with the parents of her ::.,jent-i. though she is well liked, 'p'like" knows she is unhappy, and this lakes him sad. no matter how hard I tried to put 't out of my mind. They was hardly any show of the season s regular spirit of good-will n the upper Smoky valley that year, ou all remember 1917, closin' with war clouds black around us though we was so many thousand miles away from them rain-sogged, blood-blackened blood-blackened fields of France. May the good Lord protect this world from ever seem' the same again. And may the good sense of the U. S. A. help Him to boost things so it won't. Tod paused a moment and stared oi the lobby floor, but not a man moved or spoke. W e were all with him back m that time his story was painting lor us. Three days before Christmas I left my cart down by the corner and run up through the canyon to the Gabel's with little P'like. There wasn't no use for me to try to drive through the' canyon over that rough trail. And as I told you it was a shorter way to the shack of a house hid be- THE next day 1 wrapped up a candle for every single mail-box 1 had. . Wrapped it in pretty paper, and tied it with a red silk cord. Cost more'n a red ribbon, but didn't look quite so cheap as this here papery ribbon. And I put a pretty little Christmas card, with the season's greetin's on it, in with every candle, can-dle, askin' the folks at every box to take it with my best wishes,' and the hope they'd light the same and set it in the winder Christmas Eve. 'T wasn't that the candle was worth so much. It just stood up with its tiny light to say that the Bible is the biggest, sacredest thing in all our outcomin's and higher developing. develop-ing. You know, gentlemen, gettin' right down to brass tacks, once in a while, that we can psychologize society so-ciety in general, and criminals who are rich men's sons, in particular, and get away with it fairly well, at least for temporary purposes; and we can educate the youth, each com-in' com-in' generation a little more'n the one behind it, at our high-priced colleges, and make the State, I mean, government, and all it stands for, a lot safer for our posterity than it was for our ancestry. And we may domestic-economize and' decorate deco-rate our homes with all money can put there and be wised up on these here calories, and salads, and draperies, dra-peries, and over-stuffed seats. But THE STORY Continued At the teacher's request they'd j.jiit a lean-to room the side of the 55 ;A schoolhouse, and she lived in it " ill by herself. It seemed so unnat- cralfor a smart pretty girl like her, A tbat had had a college education, S1 and been associated in a fraternity. Vl There isn't one of the Star County "Seems like a body ought to do more than that, 'specially to make children remember the day with a little gleam of joy when they're grown up. Just some little sort of Christmasy thing that's a bit different dif-ferent from the other three hundred and sixty-four days. It makes the fellow that does it feel so good, too. Kind of forgets himself in the doing," do-ing," I says. "If it's nothin' mor'n a candle in the winder, it's a token that it's Holy Night. And that's a lot. Children never forget those tilings, never." "But if you ain't got even the candle, can-dle, no matter how willin' you are, what are you goin' to do, Mr. With-erspoon?" With-erspoon?" she asked me. "I'm thinkin' about that, too," 1 says. "I believe where the mind is willin' to carry a bit of Christmas sweetness in it, somehow the candle can-dle comes. That's what my own mother back in old Vermont used to tell us, when she made a happy Christmas for her eight children out of just next to nothin' at all, the Witherspoons was so poor. And I never did forget it, neither, and how happy the least little snip of a Christmasy thing did make us, though we couldn't believe beforehand before-hand they could come. But miracles mira-cles ain't all in Holy Writ, not yet, even in a world at war, and hatin' and killin' like devils; and Christ seemingly so lost and forgot out of it. Gentlemen, I ain't no preacher. The clergy missed me when it done its pickin' fifty years ago. Tod looked up at us with that mischievous mis-chievous grin that made us all love him. AIN'T no preacher, but, as I told you, this was the best Christmas I ever had, and I guess I got sort of softened down in spirit, like it does a body good to get once a year. I went skallyhootin' home that night full up of a big idea. What's the use preachin' to other folks about cheer and good-will, and doin' little things to make folks happy, if they can't do big ones, when you ain't liftin' a finger to be and do the same your own self? I made up my mind right there I'd do my bit along with the free gratis advice I was sheddin' on my route so willingly. willing-ly. I'd take every mail-box out there a good wax candle to set up in their winders Christmas eve, far off .lonely little homes, miles apart, and out of sight of anybody. But I'd learned to love the folks out there, and bein' a bit sentimental down under my alligator hide, I just wanted want-ed to once help spread the Christ- 'SOT! '""ipiiiU? I I mscs. good and proper, as it all may be, without the Bible in your home-life and what it stands for, you don't have no foundation under either your home or society, nor much above that either. Your house is just a hollow sound, a shell. The real thing ain't there at all. You remember, Elbert, what some poet said "A house is built of brick and stone, With sills and posts and piers, But a home is built of lovin' deeds That stands for a thousand years." And when the knowin' ones throw the Bible overboard the Ship of State, and the little crafts that we call our own, why then either as a nation, or as a endurin' home, we go down for the third time. You can bet that. Well, a bit of something like this was in my mind when I wished them candles onto every house on the upper Smoky route that holiday of 1917. You see I was tryin' to do my share. Tod paused, but nothing broke the stillness of the room save the swish of the blizzard-lashed snow against the " "But this girl was clear shut away from the world." .. pis ever went to college that didn't ::me back brimmin' with life, and ;J tin' things, and makin' themselves a every day in the week. But s girl was clear shut away from is world, walled in by the can- . tins of the upper Smoky Hill. How- tier, as I say, us rural carriers J ::me by and by to be more or less ' i part of the folks on our routes and ,j !.th Ravenstow wasn't no excep- 5':: v.n hind the hills. The dark was drop-pin' drop-pin' down fast that night, it was just about the winter solstice, you know, the shortest day of the year. And I felt sort of uneasy about the boy goin' up there alone in the deep-enin' deep-enin' dark. But I needn't of, for his bright eyes wasn't in his little button-head for nothin'. He could see better'n an owl any night in the year. As we turned out of the deep- Star House windows. The day before Christmas was a corker that year. Started in well enough, but "the end of that perfect day" was a good deal like the one endin' on us tonight, only fiercer, a lot. And while I wasn't as loaded with holiday mail as some rural carriers, car-riers, and nothin' at all like town and city postmen, I was pretty well worked down, helpin' in the office, till I hadn't had enough sleep in a whole week to match more'n one good night's rest. Added to that I had taken a cold that settled in my eyes. Say, if you gentlemen think the winds have forgot how to blow, because Kansas is higher civilized, and intensiver cultivated, just start up the Smoky Hill valley some day like this one's been, and you won't need three guesses on how long it will take to sliver your eyeballs to pieces. One of my eyes was bloodshot, and half blind; and the other one would never been eligible eli-gible for no labor union, and do all the time and hah! time it had to do for nothin'. That was how it happened hap-pened I got so I couldn't hardly read the addresses on my mail, unless it was writ big and plain, or type-writ clear. I just had to depend mainly on the rural box number. If that was all right I let it go at that. (TO BE CONTINUED) This was the best Christmas I ever had. est pocket of the canyon he caught sight of Tobe Gabel wanderin' off down where I know I'd never seen him myself. Tobe had started out to meet us, and as usual, with his poor twisted mind, about directions and everything, every-thing, he went the wrong way. By the time we'd corralled him and run him in it was almost plum dark. But I stopped to speak a word to Grandma Gabel, and tell her I'd brought the children home all right. She wasn't uneasy about Tully be-ranse be-ranse he was with me almost ev- mas spirit in what simple way I could. Makes you all grin to think about it now, but you remember how much we needed peace and goodwill good-will in 1917! We were not grinning, not a man of us. Tec Jennings and. Elbert McCullen und old Abram Star were very still; even the New York City commercial traveler sat like a stone man. There was something in Tod's voice as well as his words that held us all. And if we said nothing it was because nobody wanted to risk the sound of his own voice just then. " Tod didn't say it, but we who knew , n could understand what that kind-face, kind-face, and cheery smile must have ant to the lonely girl-hermit on his ale. I'ST before Christmas, something, some-thing, God knows what, made me ? at the school house one eve-on eve-on my way back to town, e children had all gone home ) i Miss Ravenstow was alone. We Jl , -:ed a little while and when I rted to go I said sort of carelessly careless-ly "I'll try and bring you a let-' let-' tomorrow." 5ie looked up at me with her big :k eyes like she'd look me sugh, her face gettin' whiter ev- ; minute, then she said slowly: r ''-ere is no letter to come, Mr. nZ ierspoon. Nobody who could I , 'eto me knows where I am. I 'Neither help, nor be helped any- 0 3ut you'd oughtn't bury yourself ieyou are still alive," I couldn't ? sayin', me bein' old enough se her father, "and there ain't : in the world so alone they ;t be worth something to some--J ? else. When Christmas eve as we ought to put candles in winders as a .sign we still re-, re-, Mer what the night means to ' world." s ;'1iat will it mean to the world twenty-fifth of the December of ' The world was never so full . ;'te before. And who would see tandle out in this far away place . should light one?" ; ' Buess I'm kind of an old-style Sr, Miss Ravenstow, but may I ; that they's One who always j ;. the Good Bein' who never for-; for-; fven a good-for-nothin' little sParrer. I do sort of wish you'd 5 ;t for your own sake. It might ' ! you a little speck happier," I ! ited. j thank you for your kindness, jjgjj; witherspoon. It was very good .! ; u to think enough about me out Pfl; stop and say this to me. I effij .l.you are sincere in your faith, i ' makes you happy. Good- a j hy some of you men could ft' ; .; gone further with her. Mc-! Mc-! you know how to plead '0$ ;s; You'd know what to follow I didn't. That was all I ".M". But her look haunted me j way back to town that night. I ; ;ild see her eyes every way 1 i3 I Every shadow by the trail jjjf; ,3eJ to hold her face, white, with r"at dark eyes. 1 knew then v as a slow-growin' despera-'"V5 despera-'"V5 nhem thot 1 couldn't mistake, ery night. And he was such a cocksure cock-sure little scamp, anyhow, and never nev-er afraid of anything. Always pop-pin' pop-pin' in, singin' like a bird just when she was beginnin' to feel anxious about him. But it was different with big, gentle Tobe. He wasn't ever off her mind. Their home was an awfully cheerless, cheer-less, cold place. But it was real clean, and when Tobe and little Tul-c ly hit for the supper table I noticed that what little there was on it seemed to be well cooked. Mrs Gabel being a southern woman, you know. I stayed a minute to talk with Grandma. Those folks are so lonesome out there they are glad to visit a mite with anbody. "Merry Christmas," I says to be cheerful, as I started to go. "Same to you, Mr. Witherspoon." Her voice had a hollow sound like it come from anywhere, but the real heart of her. "If I can keep Tobe and Tully from freezin and the stock fed and watered, and a bit ot food so as we won't be clear starved, it's ah I can hope for." There come such a hungry, pitiful piti-ful look into her hard, wrinkled face just then I couldn't leave her, for a minute. |