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California Agriculturist and Live Stock Journal. 



(5om!5ir0mUttte» 



[For the Camfoiinia AtiiacuLTCRlsr.) 



A CHRISTMAS STORY, FOUNDED ON 



TRUTH. 



BY NELL TAN. 



?,^I*KT was CHRISTMAS EVE IN 

 Minnesota. The snow-eovered 

 Jd earth reflected the pale inoon- 

 Is'^liiSf '^^"i^>*' while the merry tinkle 

 1 '^ijj,®^ of passing sleigh-bells fell 

 cheeriugly on the ear ut intervals. 



A gronp of young people were gathered 

 around the blazing hearthstone- in sood Aunt 

 Myra's sitting-room, engaged in telling sto- 

 ries. Beside the chimney hung stockings of 

 various sizes; for what is Christmas to the 

 wee ones without " Santa Clans " and stock- 

 ings for him to fill. 



Glance at the group sitting there in the 

 firelight, with their shadows thrown upon the 

 white ceiling: A bright-eyed, fair-haired boy 

 lounged on the rug, with one arm around his 

 favorite — a black-and-tan terrier — and his oth- 

 er resting on the shoulder of black-eyed 

 Georgie, his cousin from California, who had 

 come to pass the winter at Aunt Myra's. She 

 was a tall, rosy-cheeked gypsy, with hair like 

 a raven's wing clustering about a broad, in- 

 tellectual brow. Her teeth were like pearls, 

 and her full, cherry-like lijjs were ever ready 

 to kiss or laugh, as the occasion offered. 

 Laura and Fanny came next — the one, a 

 roguish, brown-eyed puss, and the other state- 

 ly and reserved, her cold grey eyes and 

 queenly brow demanding homage from all by 

 her apparent intellectual superiority. Jenny 

 was there, a little fairy, sitting on a footstool 

 at Aunt Myra's feet with her head in her lap, 

 looking from one to the other and calling for 

 more stories in every lull iu the conversatitrn. 

 It was Georgie's turn, they all said, as Aunt 

 Myra stirred the fire and tossed on another 

 log. " Yes, Georgie's turn," said Will, snap- 

 ping his thumb and finger in the direction of 

 his cousin; "come now, tell us something 

 stunning about California lire." " Oh, jes!" 

 exclaimed the others, in concert. 



Glancing from her comjiauions to her aunt 

 she said: " I cannot think of a good story, 

 suitable for the occasion, but I can give you 

 a bit of personal experience that hapi)ened to 

 me when I was a child; for now, you know, 

 I'm <iuite grown up. One begins to feel old 

 at sixteen, and it was ten years ago to-morrow 

 that we were all so happy. ' ' 



"We are all ready, my diirling," said Aunt 

 Myra. "It seems but yesterday when you 

 were here, a babe tour months old, when your 

 dear papa was carried out from our sight and 

 laid in the churchyard that sad, sad Christ- 

 mas day. Sixteen years, you say, since then! 

 Ah me, how time flies! but you are here 

 again, the living likeness of that most pre- 

 cious one. Yes, tell us something of your 

 California life—' a true story,' as the children 

 say. I, too, like them best." 



" Well, then, imagine me a little frolicsome 

 child of six, who was spending the Summer 

 in Aunt Eleanor's quiet home. Her neat, 

 white cottage was shaded with jessamine and 



honeysuckle, and shrubbery filled the door- 

 yard, among which we children rambled to 

 our hearts' content. There was a birthday 

 party for me, I remember, and little boys and 

 girls were there all decked out in gay sashes 

 and neckties, while gayest among them all 

 was Aunt Eleanor herself, who started plays 

 for us and jilayed the piano while we danced. 

 Well, the next day found me a little fretful 

 and uneasy. It was the reaction after such 

 intense excitement. My aunt tried various 

 ways of amusing me, but nothing would do 

 but I must go somewhere. My playmates 

 were all iu school, so Auntie chanced to think 

 of an unpaid bill which she asked if I would 

 like to go and settle for her. Delighted with 

 the idea of paying out money, I started up 

 and expressed my willingness to go at once. 

 Taking from her pocket a twenty-dollar gold- 

 piece, she folded it in the cabinet-maker's 

 bill, and placing it in my hand said, "Now, 

 Georgie, hold it fast and do not lose it." Of 

 course I promised faithfully, and with my 

 light sun-hat on my arm, I started out at full 

 speed. Now in California we have long sea- 

 sons without rain, when the earth is dry and 

 parched, and the roads cut up, leaving dust 

 often several inches in depth. 



"TLe village where my aunt lived was one uf con- 

 siderable size aud iu a mHinilactui-ing distiict, so 

 the roads all About were much traveled, aud couse- 

 queutly quite dusty. I scampered aloug, singing 

 as I wen*, till arriving within sigbt of the shop 

 wliere I was to go, I missed the gold-piece from 

 my baud. The bill lay folded in my fist but no 

 money was there. Back I went over the same path, 

 slowly returning to my aunt with the mournful 

 news that I had lost the money. 



*' 'Lost the money, Georgie?" It cannot be. Let's 

 go together and look for it.' She slipped on her hat 

 and slowly and carefully w^e passed over the same 

 ground, going and coming, till near nightfall, but 

 not a trace could be seen of the coin. The neigh, 

 bors became interested iu the search, and with 

 sticks to rake among the'dust they came to our as- 

 sistance without avail. Days passed on and cousin 

 Tom, then a lad of ten years, insisted that some 

 one must have picked it up while I had gone to tell 

 ihe news: so whenever Aunt urged him to search 

 more, he would say he was sure there was no use 

 for it could not have lain there all this time with- 

 out being picked up. Do you believe in fortune- 

 tellers. Aunt Myra? Well, about this time an old, 

 wandering gypsy passe<i through the village, stop- 

 ping at every house aud telling tortunes in a tea- 

 cup. Of course she tasted lite hospitality of the 

 house before she came to the tea-grounds, and most 

 marvelous tales she related to eager listeners re- 

 garding their future. She came to Aunt and insisted 

 Uiat there was souielhing iu the future [irepariug 

 for her — some snrrow in the pabt that she could ex- 

 plain to her. I came in to see who the old body 

 might be, and with eyes distended she pointed her 

 long, bony linger at nie and asked where that child 

 came from. " None of yours, sure," she added, 

 luuking suspiciously at Aunt as if 1 had been stolen 

 away from eomehody. 1 was frightened aud hid 

 my face away, hat the sepulchral tones ol her 

 voice souuded in my ears lor days after. It was 

 luuch-Iime, I remeinher, tor we dined in the cool 

 of the day, and yiuut had a cup of tea set for the 

 stranger aud oHercd her some luucheon. Alter she 

 had linished she pushed hack her chair, aud with 

 the lea cup iu her hand dr;iincd off the moisture, 

 ;ind t(dd .Vuiit tbi a aud tiicre, she »:nv Irimhie 

 about iiKMicy. 



" 'Here's a man — a lalM.iiiiL' man in shirt sleeves 

 anil wilh a plaid pau-h iu the baikof his waistcoat 

 — will! jiiclis uji a piece rif UKuicy — your uauii-y. 

 uia'aiii. lie says, as he slaps it in his palm wiih 

 Ihe other hand, "That'll just pay my ta.xes aud 



give me my little home free. How glad Mary'll 

 be to know the heavens have rained down inouev 

 to help us!" Have you lost any money, ma'am?' 

 euijuired she, turning full upon my aunt. Yes. 

 there had been money lost, hut who the man could 

 he that p'cked it up no one could conjecture, as no 

 jieison answering to the description had been seen 

 in the neighborhood. The fortune-teller passed on 

 and left us as much in a quandary as before, no 

 one jdaciug much reliance on her word. 



"Shortly after this I returned to my city home, 

 and nothing was said to .Mamma about the lost 

 money, because I hated to think of it and good 

 Aunt Eleanor ilid not want to worry her with any- 

 thing that could not he heljied. At Christmas time, 

 six months after, we all went over, by urgent invi- 

 tation, to spend a week at Jessamine Cottage, as I 

 htve to call Aunt Eleanor's home. The early rains 

 had settled the dusty roads and brought forth the 

 fresh young grass. The woods through which we 

 passed lu the old-fashioned stage coach were Irag- 

 rant with alt sorts of delightful herbs tnd ever- 

 greens, among which the redwood, towering to the 

 skies, sent forth its share of its peculiar perfume. 

 Arriving there we found ray aunt and cousins all 

 expectation, and the rooms were beautifully deco- 

 rated with wreaths of evergreeus, and the word, 

 ' Welcome!' was hung opposite the door in the 

 best parlor, where was also a fine mistletoe, under 

 which, if a boy c-night a little mate,' you know a 

 kiss is the legal penalty. Blundering in, lost in ad- 

 miration, Cousin Tom led me directly under the 

 mistletoe and kissed nie saying, 'There, Georgie, I 

 caught you first.' Nothing went amiss with me 

 that day, though ii]ion ordinary occasions a hoy 

 "would have to smart tor his audacity if he dared 

 ste;il a kiss even at that tender age. 



"Christmas day dawned bright and clear, aud we 

 children were \i\> before dawn and down to our 

 stockings. Oh, what merry times we bad looking 

 at the pretty things funny Santa Claus had brought. 

 After Auntie came dowu w'e were taken into the 

 parlor, aud there, in the centre of the room stood 

 the loveliest Christmas-tree I ever saw or eiiali ex- 

 pect to see again It was all decked out with 

 strings of pop-corn, with fancy horas-of- plenty tilted 

 with candy, and every conceivable toy and gift 

 suspended from or resting on the branches. Tmy 

 flags were mixed in aud gilded balls. O, you nev- 

 er dreamed of a prettier sight. Our presents weie 

 all labeled, so that it was an easy tasK to distribute 

 them, and Tom in a bran new suit, with cap to 

 match, looked most woudeifid to my young eyes. 

 Soon after breakfast, when the sun slumeout Warm, 

 a walk was projiosed by .^Iaster Tom, who offered 

 to take Rood care of Fieddy, who was just able to 

 walk nicely. Jlamnia aud Aunt Eleanor willingly 

 assented, and dressed out in our very best we 

 stepped ofi* quite h(,ppily. I shall never forget 

 that walk as long as 1 live; for what do you tliink? 

 when we were walkiiii.^ over the same piece of 

 road where I had passed when I lost the gold-piece 

 there was a deal of mud, so Tom, like a careful 

 boy, lifted Freddy over it. and glancing down, iu a 

 wiieel-track he espied something shining which he 

 picked up, aud there it was — the lost twenty-dolho' 

 piece! Six mtmths it had lain concealed beneath the 

 dust, to he a surprise to us on Christmas day! Haf^t 

 enmg home as fast as our feet would carry us, we 

 related the circumstance to the astonished groii['. 

 Mamma had never heard of the losing of the mot: 

 ey, and Wits the more amazed to think of its heii?- 

 lost and found withinit her knowledge. 



" How we danced and sung and made merry be- 

 cause the lost was found; and what had hung like 

 a cloud over my childhood's vision of clear .lesya 

 mine Cottage was now removed, and Aunt Elean- 

 or's double eagle laid coaie back to her. What did 

 she do with it? Why, she bad it changed into tw" 

 ten-dollar gold-pieces and gave one to Mamma for 

 briugins; me over lo be the means of lindiiig the 

 lost treasure. 



"My story is done; for our Christmas day will 

 soon he here, and if i* be as happy as the one we 

 spent that year, some of you may make a yam to 

 amuse another group some futuie Christmas eve." 



A F.isHio.\'ABLE Kecii'E.— Take a young lady, 

 turn her once iu a breadth of satin, twice fn 

 a gauze scarf aud three times iu a pufif oi 

 tulle; add twenty yards of flowery garlands 

 wherewith to season the whole. The dish i- 

 then trussed up, but has not yet suflicicnt 

 dressing. Something heavy, in the shape of 

 ft train is needed. It may be made of mate- 

 lassee with raised flowers, or of brocade. 

 Skewer it on well behind, aud garnish with 

 gauze butterflies, lace birds or gilt beetles. 

 Keep very warm at the Ijase and very cool at 

 the top. Kemove the dressing as much as 

 possible from the upper part anil pile it on 

 below. Season with diamonds and serve tip 

 warm, 



