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Show The 1st Prize Christmas . Story "Bobbie's Christmas Gift" By Ina Seely (In the annual Christmas stoiy contest sponsored by the Twentieth Twenti-eth Century Club, Miss Ina Seeiy. ! a Senior at North Sanpete, won ' first place with her story, "Bob- j bie's Christmas Gift." "A Candle in the Dark" written M- Miss Betty Wall of Wasatch Academy j won second place and will appear m in the next issue of The Pyramid ) j He was only ten years old, and j he ought to have been in school, 1 of course; but his father was dead t and his mother almost an invalid, to whose slender and uncertain income in-come from her needle Bobbie's two dollars a weet at Brown's General store was no mean addition. Sonic weeks, indeed, his earnings were greater than hers, and on these occasions Mrs. Peters, who was still young, would smile in her pretty way and pat Bobbie on the head and call him her little man of the house. Those were always proud moments mo-ments for Bobbie; and oh, how ihey made him yearn to be earning, ten dollars a week in the store, like Larry Burton! Larry was Bobbie's Bob-bie's ideal of a great man, for he could blow smoke through his nose I without coughing; he could lift a S barrel of salt; throw anybody in - town in a wrestling match, and ' break the wildest colts that were y ever brought to him. Bobbie learn-ed learn-ed in Sunday School, of course, and from his mother, that some of these things were not nice, yet if they weren't, why did a great man like Larry Burton do them? These were questions that often puzzled Bobbie's brain as he sat on the high seat of the delivery wagon, with old Ned jogging along in front. Mr. Brown did not smoke, to be sure but he was a little, dried up old man, whom Larry could have licked with one hand tied behind him. Mr. Brown often spoke sharp ly to Larry, especially when the latter lat-ter had been out training someone's some-one's colt instead of attending to business in the store and Bobbie, on such occasions, always trembled for his employer but somehow Larry never licked him. Every Saturday afternoon Bobbie Bob-bie hurried home with his two silver sil-ver dollars, and the kiss his mother invariably gave him was the richest rich-est of rewards. In the beginning he also conscientiously carried home the occasional nickel or dime which he picked up in return for some little favor done a .customer. But cne day his mother told him, with a queer catch in her voice, whicn he could not then understand, that thereafter he could have these extras ex-tras for himself. He kept them after this, but whatever he bought ;ith them candy or licorice or an orange he always shared with little lit-tle Betty and his mother. Since September, however and it was now next to the last week in December he had not spent a penny. Why, was a secret into vnich he had let no one but little Betty. He was going to make the i first Christmas gift of his life, and it was to be to h:s mother! But vhat? This was the question he had pondered for days. He had I considered at leasai a dozen articles, arti-cles, always carefully bearing the cost In mind, but no sooner would he decide on any one of them all the others would at once take on new charms, and undo his decision. What he wanted was something ihat his mother really needed and ivould use every day, but which at ho same- time would be beautiful and enduring and would not cost ever one dollar. It proved a difficult diffi-cult combination to find, and he was beginning to despair, when one moining at breakfast, just four days before Christmas, his mother said, "Bobbie, dear, I 'guess you'll have to take the tea-kettle down to Mr. James again. It has sprung another an-other leak." In that moment the Inspiration came. He would get her a new tea-kettle! Not a plain tin affair like her old one, which was battered and soldered in many ti place, with its spout twisted and the button gone from the lid, hut a seorgeous one of white and blue granite-iron, such as he had seen in Jamess window. ' That very afternoon, after school, Betty, following instructions stopped at the store for her brother. Thb selection of the kettle was a responsibility respon-sibility not to be assumed by any ne l'trson. Bobbie got excused for a little while, and the pair nastentd toward James' hardwate store. The clouds were snittl.13 .m ow, and a keen wind harrud he ; treet, but Betty's little rej hood and jacket were snug and arm ..:.l 3obbi", though he l:lev -us bare knuckles from h was too OM '.Uri to hunk j the wild They paused in front 01 vlie v.''.rtVv, and . .V 'ie f.geny p.'r " i.t the lut-fft lut-fft ' i' 1 ith he hai :Iswki. cari'tully Y caiher in the dtv O "Isn't it a beauty, Betty?" he V 1 -.krc! I "Isni't it awfully pretty." she mur inered. "How mtiCT does it erst.'" I 'I haven't asko-' yi-t. but Lony say:; that no gr.rs.'e -.ronkcttlc ev-l ev-l it made ought to cost over '..ne dol- lr.r, aim he knevs cause he used to ork in a hard.vjve sto' e. We'll 4 1 ! and psk, ii you think it' 1 !-." 1 ' "If : beautiful, brother." I "Do you think it's too big?" h? I queried anxiously. t "Oh, no." "Do you htink it's too little then'." f "Oh. no. I think it's just right, 1 .-he said. 1 "Then I'll ask." Wait until 1 He drew from his trouser pocket hail a handful 01 pennies, nicke:s, and dimes, and after some stud' found that they totalled one dollar, dol-lar, just the amount he should have had. Then he paused for one final glance at the gorgeous kettle. It was in that fateful moment that his eye fell on a ketle which had somehow escaped him hitherto i Leautiful vessel which shone like silver, with a fancy curved spout and figured handle, a very king 01 kettles, and in that instant the glory of the granite-iron kettle f ao -ed forever, and it became a common com-mon plebian thing. "Look at that silver one!"" said he in a hopeless tone. "Oh, my!" exclaimed Betty, "I wish we could buy mother that one, but I expect it costs ten dollars, den't you?" Bobbie shook his head, too dejected de-jected to show his boyish scorn at her ignorance. "It don't cost that; no tea-kettle costs tnat except a queen's maybe, but it costs too mucii for us." He fastened his longing jyes cn the glittering object again. It seemed to shine with even more elegance than before; and he pictured pic-tured to himself, with an aching heart, the glow that would come 10 his mother's face if he could only make her such a magnificent pres-ei.o pres-ei.o as that. "Betty," said he, almost tragically while his lip quivered.. "I'm not going go-ing to get mother a kettle after all. I'm going to get her something else." "What are you going to get her, ' asked Betty greatly disappointed al the outcome of the momentous shopping expedition. 1 naven t decided yet. I ll think it over. You stop at the store tomorrow afternoon again, but I wish I hadn't seen that silver Kettle," he added, sadly. He dreamt that night that he found a place where quarters and half dollars lay on the ground thick as leaves, enough to buy many silver kettles, but just as he wav entering 'Mr. James' store, which didn't, seem the same old place exactly, ex-actly, the bottom of his pockets suddenly dropped out, his silver rolled hither and thither, dodging about as if it had life, and not a single piece could be found again. He woke bitterly disappointed but he was somewhat cheered to find, on getting up, that the dollar in his trouser pockets was still intact. On the way to work he cou'd not resist the temptation to stop and look at the silver kettle again. Some fairy must have polished ' it ovoi night, for it reflected the morning sun in a manner that was fairly dazzling. Each time that day that ne passed James' with the delivery wagon and he went -out of his way several times to do it ne turned a pair of hungry eyes toward the window. At noon, both coming and going, he stopped again. Once during the afternoon, as he went by on the wagon he saw Mr. James showing the kettle to a lady, and his heart sank. He also felt some resentment, just as if the kettle were his and not Mr. James', but when he came back there was tlw king on his throne again, looking, is possible, more royal than ever. "Betty," said he desperately, when the pair once more stood in front of the window, "I haven't thought of anything else yet, and I'm going to ask Mr. James how much it's worth." Betty's eyes opened wide at this venturesome declaration. Maybe he won't like rt, Bobbie. He knows we're too poor to buy it.'' "I don't care," answered Bobbie. 'I heard Larry Burton ask a man .he price of a thrashing machine jnce, and he didn't have the money lO buy it. And maybe the kettle :ion't ccst "out one dollar." They climbed the steps of the old frame building. Bobbie's heart in spite of his valorous words, was thumping furiousiy, and it was with a feeling or relief that he noted the absence 01 any other customers In the store. "Mr. James," he began, with a tremor in his voice which he could not quite control, "I want to look at your tea-kettles. I want to get mother one for Christmas. How much is that silver one in the window win-dow with the crooked spout?" Betty tightened her grip on Bobbie's Bob-bie's hand as Mr. James stepped to the window and lifted the beauteous beaute-ous thing down. When he came back and set it on the counter, within eighteen inches of the tip of her nose at which close range it was overwhelmingly splendid her eyes fairly snapped, but Bobbie's heart went lower than ever. He .ealized his folly in pricing such an i article. j "Do you mean this one? That's ' a dollar and a half, Bobbie," said the dealer. There was silence for a moment, intense silence. I "I suppose it's solid silver." said Bobbie trying to muster a mattd'-cf-fact tone, but struggling with a lump in his throat.. "No. it's nickel plated, but for ah practical purposes it is as good as silver. Do you think you would like it?" Bobbie shook his head. He was about to say that he hadn't decided yet just what he was to get his mother, but his instinctive truth-1 fulness prevailed. "I haven' the money," he answered, answer-ed, almost inaudibly. We have some cheaper ones," ,:aid the merchant, kindly. "We have some as low as fifty cents." But Bobbie again shook his head. "I wanted to get her something nice. I wouldn't take no pleasure in a cheap kettle after seeing that one. Come on Betty." "How much money have you, 3obbie?" called the storekeeper as me children reached the door. "One dollar." James hesitated, and glanced at the bottom of the kettle. It was marked o-m, which meant that it had cost him, as it happened, just one dollar. Then he glanced at the pair. They were about the age of his own two children. "Bobbie," said he with a smile, "this is the season of peace, on eaith and good will to men, and I am going to let you have this kettle ket-tle for one dollar." Bobbie's eyes lighted wondorous-iy wondorous-iy ior an instant, then the radiance iaded and he said, in a nard llttl-3 voice, without turning back, "I don't want you to give it t me, Mr. James." "I am not giving it to you. One dollar is just what it cost me, and I often sell goods to favored customers cus-tomers at cost. You and your mother have always been favored customers of mine, and I should be glad to have you take this teakettle tea-kettle for one dollar." "All right, sir, if you put it that way," answered the proud little boy, and once more he counted out his small change, fearful lest a penny or two might have got away and thus at the last moment prevent pre-vent the sale, but it was all there. Mr. James swathed the kettle m paper until one could not havi: guessed what it was, tied it up ae-cuiciy ae-cuiciy and passed it across the counter. Bobbie lifted it carefully down with a sense of tremendous responsibility, tucked it under his arm and passed out with Betty. ti'ppose you'd fall down and smash it, Bobbie," suggested she, anxiously as they trudged over the icy sidewalks. "Im not going to fall," said he confidently, "I've carried things aa valuable as this before glass, too, but never anything for mother," he added with a more tender tone. "Suppose a horse ran over you, ' continued Betty. He laughed in a boy's superior way. "I guess I'm not liable to get run over by a horse when 1 drive one every day. When yoj get used to a horse, you aren't afraid of them any' more. Larry says old Ned's got the hardest mouth of any horse in town." Bobbie expected to smuggle the tea-kettle into the house on Christmas Christ-mas Eve. He had not yet decided whether he would softly arise some time in the night and tie his gift to his mother's stocking he would hint beforehand that it would b& well for her to hang it up alou? with his and Betty's this year whether he would put it on the stove in place of the old tea-kettle, and let her find it when she went co make the fire in the morrutig. Each plan had some feature to recommend it. But meanwhile he deemed it wisest wis-est to keep the precious gift at the rt'.'ve, although just where to stow it was a sericus question. Under a counter it might get dented; on a shelf it might fall off, espeally if there should happen to be an earihhquake. Moreover, if sucn a valuable thing were left in an exposed place, burglars might find it out and carry it off. Finally, however, Larry Burton whom Bobbie Bob-bie took into Ms confidence, hid the kettle in a drawer under some rolls of cotton batting. If Bobbie peeped peep-ed into the drawer once in the next two days he peeped twenty times, but on eacn occasion the treasure lay there as peafecully as if it were only a bundle of brown pa per. Bobbie's work enaed at six o'clock by Mis. Peter's stipulation, for he was too young to be kept up at night. About half-past three o'clock on .the afternoon before ohiistmas, when his heart was al-icady al-icady beginning to quicken in anticipation an-ticipation of the exciting venture of getting his present into the house unobserved, the telephone 1 ang vigorously. It was Mrs. Stevens, Ste-vens, she wanted to know whythe two pounds of raisins she had crc'.erel for ner Christmas pudding had not been delivered. The store was full of customers and Larry jiurton hung up the receiver witn .1 growl. Mrs. Stevens lived outside out-side the village limits, about a mile and a half from the store, and Bo'o-w,c Bo'o-w,c nau tuCii out Liiie t.vice that day in the delivery wagon with baskets full of Christmas cheer; but Larry had in some way ov.r-lck'-;l tn? raisins in putting up the order. Mrs. Stevens was Browns best customer, however, and couid u-i. bo casappoinled. cltliuush ihi horse had been put away for the day. "Bobbie." said Larry, in a tone not ii, tended for his employer's ar. "do you suppos you i.ould hitch up, old Ned by yourself and take two ! pounds of raispns out to old lady j Stevens.' I can't possioly leave toe! store now, and she'll have a fit U the raisins aren't delivered." ' Bobbie had never hitched up th ! noise, but he was not the boy U admit, especially to his idol, his n - j ability tc do a thing before he had tried it. So a few minutes later j "ne tniciiu-d nvf r to Brown's barn with the bag of raisins under one ! arm. Larry had told him that he needn't come bae'e again thai day. so under the other arm and this was really tne important thinsr he can led the precious tea Ke'ne. Arriving at the barn, he deposited depos-ited his packages in a safe pl.uv: then climbed on a box and lifted the heavy harness down from a weeden peg. Mounting the mar.-. mar.-. cer with the bridle over one arm. he seised old Ned's forelock firmly. j with a reassuring "Ho Boy!" as 'Lariy always did, and unbuckled the halter. But old Ned, having done his day's work, had no mind to be harnessed again, especially by this pigmy. So he snorted, threw, up his head with a fo"ce which nearly wrenched Bobbie's arm from the socket, and then derisively de-risively cantered out into the barnyard barn-yard through the door, which Bobbie Bob-bie had unintentionally left open. Half frightened at this catastrophe, and with an aching arm, the child followed with the bridle. For fifteen fif-teen minutes he alternately coaxed and chased the horse, stumbling over the frozen ground, and bru's-ing bru's-ing his bare hands until they burned burn-ed like fire and were bleeding in several places, but the . wary old horse would neither re-enter his stall nor allow himself to be caught. At first the boy thought of returning re-turning to the store and confessing the failure that had overtaken nun, out in addition to the humiliation of the course, it seemed an. ungrateful ungrate-ful thng, somehow, after Larry had let hm off for the rest ol the da;. So Bobbie resolved to walk out to Mis. Stevens'. Ke Had walked with some boys in the summer to help pick strawberries and it had not seemed so very far. Gathering up his parcels, therefore for leaving the tea-kettle behind in the stable was not to be thought of he started start-ed off. The road was badly cut up. The parcels, so light at first, soon grew amazingly heavy; his arms, especially espec-ially the one which old Ned had jerked, began to ache terribly. Fv-ary Fv-ary few. rods he paused to shift his jurdens, as first the raisins and then the tea-kettle seemed the tighter ior his lame arm. In his haste and anxiety, too, he had left his mittens behind at the stable, and his dirty liitle hands were soon as red as boiled lobsters. It was half past four o'clock when ho reached the big Stevens house, and the great red sun was nearly-down nearly-down to the tree tops in the west. The cook made him come in ami warm himself and expressed her opinion of the man who would send a boy of Bobbie's ' size that distance dis-tance on foot with two packages to carry. Bobbie explained, and after he was warm the cook buttoned but-toned him up thouroghly, drew a pair of her own mittens a trifle large but wonderfully warm over hii small hands, and wished him a Merry Christmas. A few flakes of snow were drifting drift-ing down in an inconsequential way . but before Bobbie reached the public pub-lic road they were falling thick and fast. He did not object to snow, when there were prospects or a new sled for Christmas, but he deci.lr-ci to take a short cut across a large tract of meadow. The old snow-in snow-in the meadow proved deeper than he had thought, and at each step he sank in above his ankles, but by the time he had realized how toilsome toil-some this made the walking, he fancied that he must be half-way across, and that it would be better to gon on than to turn back. He had broken through thin ice in several low places, and his wet feet soon got very cold, but he cheered his flagging spirits by hugging hug-ging his present tighter, and pie-.uring, pie-.uring, for perhaps the hundredth time, his dear mother's smile when she should look at her stocking in the morning. He was considerably worried by the snow's wetting the porous brown paper in which the kettle was wrapped, and finally, by the appearance of one or two holes in the paper, caused by his frequent shifting of the package from one tired arm to the other. Water might take off the beautiful glitter, he feared, or even rust the nickel, while if all the paper came off, how vhould he ever get his resent Into In-to the house unrecognized? To remedy matters he tried to shield thet kettle under his overcoat over-coat but the strained position which this crowding necessitated hampered hamper-ed his walking badly and the opan-ing opan-ing in his overcoat let in the wind and snow. It occurred to him, too, that he might scratch the polished surface with his buttons. So he drew the vessel out again the holes m the paper now bigger and more numerous than ever buttoned his ocat as best he could with his be-.mmbed be-.mmbed fingers and trudged on. Presently he found himself in a glove. He was greatly surpriseu at this for he was positive that no trees grew in the meadow. He nad been floundering along with his head down, as one naturally orcasts a storm; but stopping and' looking up now to get his bearing.;, I he discovered that no landmarks! were visible. Not only the spuci j and tiees of the village had disao- j peered but also the Stevens ho.ise, ' itself, big as it was and set ;.n a hill. Snow, snow, nothing but j snow, in great wet, noiseless llikes! which stuck to his face and clothing. cloth-ing. Frightened but not despair- j tig. he struck out in the direction in which he thought the villa must surely lie. After a little he came to a barbed-wire fence. Hie hf art gave a great throb of thankfulness, thank-fulness, tor this must mark the end of the meadow. But alas! There was no road on the other side, as theie should have been only a smooth expanse of snow, like an-oiher an-oiher meadow. By this time the last of the pelpy b-own paper had been rubbed firm the tea-kettle. Bobbie's fac-. hair rrri c-lotlies were wet with meiteu si cw and his feet numb wit:i c:d. His brave little heart now failed hir. and he began to cry in short, hard, bitter sobs. He had sr.ircely nrrnsth enough left to dra-j him--e!f through the fence, yet he care-''tily care-''tily sereened his Moved gift from the barbs on the wire. Havtr.t catned '.he other side, he had an I almost irresistible desire to sink I down and rest, but the thought of ! nome and mother and the Christ-j Christ-j mas entertainment at the church .tept iiiiu go.ng. Betty made up I like a fairy was to sing at trie church, and he did not want te. nrss that. And the next day was Christmas! That was a great tiicught and he repeated it over ..d over, Like some incantation which might have the power to keep nir aching legs in motion. But even the virtue of this incantation in-cantation spent itself in time. His stiength was almost gone. Holding the tea kettle by the handle in a rigid, half-frozen grop, he stumbled aimlessly about in the gathering darkness, with no course in mind, and instinctively followig the line of least resistance w here t n e ground sloped down or where the snow was thinnest. Every few yards he fell, and when he rose he .staggered helplessly. Both mittens ;veie gone, but he was scarcely conscious of the fact, and to his benumbed faculties the loss seemed like a trivial one, even though the mittens were not his own. The lethargy which cold and excessive ex-cessive fatigue produce was fast overcoming him, when he was rudely rud-ely jarred by bumping squarely into in-to something. Although utterly indigerent to his surroundings now. he knew from the feel and smell of the object that it was a straw stack. It had been eaten away on he sides by the cattle until it somewhat some-what resembled a gigantic toadstool; toad-stool; and in the shelter formed by its overhanging edge he sank down in the litter of straw with a strange but delightful sense of languor, such as liad sometimes felt in the morning when he had waked before it was time to get up. His hands and feet had also ceased to pain him althohugh the former were so stiff that he could not move a finger. So closing his eyes and hugging his treasure to I his wet, frozen breast he began to .epeat: "Twas the night before Christmas Christ-mas and all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse " He knew the whole poem bj heart and had recited it the year before at the Christmas entertainment; entertain-ment; but these two verses were all he could remember to-night, and he repeated them drousily several times. Then muttering in a fitful way a part of the little prayer which he was accustomed to make each night at his mother's knee, he fell asleep. There, three hours later, the searching party, systematically canvassing can-vassing every square yard of the meadow with .their gleaming lanterns, lan-terns, found him, with the teakettle tea-kettle clasped in his arms and his cap jammed over his glassy eyes not dead, but in a stupor which is the precursor of death. When he regained consciousness, his mother was sitting beside tha bed; a lamp was burning on tha table, and there was the pungent smell of liniments in his nostrils. He was still very tired and it was some time- before he opened his eyes wide enough for his mother to perceive that he was awake. "My dear little boy!.' she exclaimed, exclaim-ed, bending over and kissing him, while the tears glistened on her long beautiful lashes the most beautiful in the world to Bobbie. "Have I come home, mother?" he asked in a mystified tone. "Why, yes, darling, only you are in mother's room tonight, where it is warmer, instead of your owo.. Don't you recognize it?" "Did I come alone?" "No, the men the good kind men found you ana bt ought you home." Then the memory of his present flasned over him. . He glanced a-bout a-bout the room but the tea-kettle was nowhere in sight, and the sickening sick-ening conviction that it had been lost came over him. "And is it Christmas, yet, mother?" moth-er?" he asked faintly. "Yes, it is now two o'clock and really Christmas, but we don't usually us-ually count is as beginning until moining, w;hen all the little boys and girls wake up and look in their stockings. I am so thankful, darling, dar-ling, that you have been spared to be one of those." "Did you hang up your stocking, mother?" "Yes, don't you remember that you told me at dinner yesterday to be sure not to forget it?" He burst into tears. "You won't get anything now, mother. I lost it in the snow," he sobbed. "Oh, no, you didn't my darling. You had it in your arms when they loimd you, and you held it so tightly tight-ly that they let it stay in your arms until they got you home." Her own tears now flowed. "The tea-kettle?" he queried 'ii Emazement, his eyes lighting with hope. "Yes. that beautiful tea-kettle. Finer than mother ever had be-iore, be-iore, or ever hoped to have." "And wasn't it rusty?' "Not a bit of it. It shines like silver. Mother shall always be lo proud of it. but how much prouder shall she always be of her noble boy, who was so thoughtful and : elf -sacrificing in order to give her a p.easurc, and who in all his pain -nd despair out there in the darkness dark-ness and the storm, would not abandon his present for her. ' Mother." said he with a radiant fece. "T knew you'd talk like a-, et'gel when I gave it to you. That's cne vcaarm why I did it just to hear you. But I wanted you to have it too." he added quickly, Just K-tore her lips smothered' his speech. |