11)14. 
THE RURAL NJtCVV-YOKKKK 
1473 
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1 WOMAN AND HOME ||| 
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Grandpa’s Christmas Story” 
(As reported by Jimmy) 
By Harry Ayres 
iiTTOW-DO, Mis’ Holcomb. Maw said 
n I could come over an’ play with 
Harold ’til four o’clock, if you was wil¬ 
lin’.” 
“All right, Harold. Go get your skates, 
your Maw sez you can.” 
“ Ain't they dandies, though. Paw sez 
Maw got in ahead of him an’ told Santy 
to bring me this dandy mackinaw coat, 
so he didn’t know what to reccermend 
'til he happened to notice a nice, smooth 
piece o’ ice below the bridge when he 
was on the way to the Junction with a 
load o’ calves, so he stepped in an' told 
Santy he knowed a boy at the third farm 
beyond the school-house on the West 
Road ’at would ’predate a nice pair o' 
skates.” 
“Not a bit o’ danger, Mis’ Holcomb. 
Paw told Maw if we broke through there 
ain't enough water in the creek this year 
to break up a settin’ hen.” 
“Yessum, I allers have a nice Christ¬ 
mas when we go to Aunt Lizzzie’s—it 
was our turn to go out there, this year. 
She’s jist as good cook as Maw is. an' 
she ain’t all the time frettin’ for fear 
you’ll oat too much, .the way Maw is. 
Paw sez the on’.v way he c’n .tell them 
two women apart is that one is short an’ 
stout an’ the other ain’t.” 
“Oh, him. —lie's allers crackin’ jokes. 
Me an’ him an' Maw an’ Henry an' 
Emily went with the team an’ Sheldon 
an’ Edith went in his brand-new cutter— 
say. that mare o' his c'n go like greased 
lightnin’!” 
“Maw told Henry to look at the 
weather-report when lie took the milk to 
the station an’ it said, ‘Probably rain. 
Warmer.’ Paw said that meant fair, an’ 
cold enough to freeze 4he hair olf'n the 
lap-robes. She wanted to take umbrul- 
las an' he said; ‘Shucks! Better put in 
a couple o’ extry robes.’ She said she 
knowed we’d get soaked afore we got 
back, an’ he said she was a pessimist o' 
the purest -water. Henry said we might 
put the unbrellas under the back seat an' 
sit on the extry robes, so’s to be ready 
for whatever might turn up. Paw sez. 
'Henry, if you’d bin in Taft’s place you'd 
a-bin re-elected, you’re the greatest har- 
monizer since William McKinley.’ ” 
“Sure, ma'am, he was the 24th Pres¬ 
ident of the United States—I learnt that 
in my jography lesson.” 
“Sheldon an’ Edith didn’t start 'till 
a hour after we did. but we hadn't got 
to the Emerson place ’fore we heard his 
bells jinglin’ behind us. Paw wouldn’t 
turn out for him—jist for fun—so they 
went round by Gaines’s cheese factory 
an’ when we was most to the Payne place 
there they was euttin’ in ahead of us. 
‘Whip ’em up. Ezr.v.’ sez Maw, but Paw 
sez. ‘Not me. Mary Ann. I don’t relish 
takin’ a hold o’ the red-hot end of a 
poker. That mare could boat ’em that 
distance on three legs. ’Sides that. I aim 
to handle this team so's they’ll last me 
’til I quit farmin’ an’ take to settin’ 
around tollin’ other folks how to do it.’ 
My! How they did laugh at us. though.” 
“When we got there Uncle Jim took 
the team an’ we all went inside. There 
was Aunt Sophy, so we knowed Gran- 
per an’ Grammer was there. They was 
awful glad to see us—’specially me. 
Aunt Sophy portended she didn’t know 
me—I’d growed so. Aunt lJzzie hugged 
an’ kissed me an’ cried, like she allers 
does, ’cause I’m about the same age as 
her Willie what died.” 
“Yessum, an’ her little girl died too. 
Maw sez her heart aches for Jim an’ Liz¬ 
zie, they’re so lonesome. Uncle Jim al¬ 
lers goes off if anybody mentions ’em an’ 
Aunt Lizzie cries.” 
“Well, whilst the womeu-folks was put¬ 
tin’ their things away an’ all talkin’ to 
once we men-folks went into the parlor, 
where Granper an’ Grammer was warm- 
•n’ up after their cold ride. ’Course, 
they made a lot o’ fuss over me. too. an’ 
I was awful glad to see ’em. Pretty 
soon the rest come in an’ I went to the 
kitchen to see what the prospects was. 
Gee! They was everything. I guess 
mebbe I couldn’t a helped just tastin ’. 
but Uncle Jim come in the back way an’ 
when he see me he ask mo didn’t I want 
to go out to the barn an' see the crit¬ 
ters. Say! He’s got the funniest barn 
you ever see! ’Stead o’ puttin’ in his 
hay with a hoss-fork, the way Paw an' 
Mr. Holcomb docs, he drives clear up to 
the top o’ the barn an’ dumps it off into 
the mow. Then he keeps his horses an’ 
cows in the same stable an’ the henhouse 
opens into it, so's the heat from the cows 
c’n go in. Sez his hens waller in two 
feet o’ dust an’ he ain’t never seen a 
chicken-louse in his stable yet. He ain't 
got no silo, neither. He grows mangels 
an’ turnips an’ cuts ’em up in a root- 
cutter down in a cellar under the stable 
an’ h'ists ’em up in a elevator he made 
liisself. Sez he c’n make milk cheaper 
on roots an’ fodder an' hay ’n Paw can 
on silage an’ hay an’ boughtei. grain. 
Paw sez mebbe lie can. but he’s f'm 
Missouri. Henry sez its a case of every 
shoemaker to his own last, but I don’t 
see what shoemakers has got to do with 
farmin’.” 
“I was glad I went to the barn, ’cause 
dinner was ready when we went in an’ I 
didn't have to set around an’ wait. Soon’s 
we was all set, Granper rose up an’ sez, 
‘Children, let us remember Whose birth¬ 
day this is. Then he ast the blessin’. 
We all bowed our heads but Uncle Jim.” 
“I d’know, ma’am, but I guess it’s 
'cause lie’s a infidel.” 
“No, I d'know what a infidel is, but 
I bet it’s sump’n awful, ’cause Aunt 
Lizzie allers cries if anybody sez any¬ 
thing about it.” 
“Well, when Granper got through. 
Paw sez, ‘AMEN.’ Uncle Jim looked 
at him kind o’ susprised an' sez, ‘What! 
Is Saul also among the prophets?’ ” 
“ ‘Ever since Thanksgiving,’ Paw sez.” 
“ ‘Kind o’ sudden, ain't it?’ sez Uncle 
Jim.” 
“Granper spoke up—‘Mother and I have 
received many warm tokens of regard 
from our children today, and we appre¬ 
ciate every one. but flic best Christmas 
gift we have received is that declaration 
of Ezra’s. Jim. you have been a good 
husband to Lizzie and a good son to us. 
But it grieves us to see how hard you 
take your trouble. Mother and I have 
talked it over a good deal, lately, and 
after we have enjoyed the bountiful and 
delicious meal before us we will all go 
into the parlor and I will tell you a true 
story.’ ” 
“Yessum. Granper allers talks like 
that. When we was coinin’ home Emily 
sez: ‘What beautiful English Grandpa 
Martin uses! He would make a fine 
public speaker.’ ” 
“ ‘Law, child.’ Maw sez, ‘didn’t you 
know? Granper served three terms in 
the Legislature.’ An’ Paw sez. ‘Yes. an’ 
the voters o’ this district bought a gold- 
brick when they turned him down for 
that lawyer from Blankenburg. They got 
their bridge an’ the Blankenburg people 
got their armory, but the only good the 
bridge does ’em is to add to the beauty 
o' the scenery an’ I guess the Blanken¬ 
burg people think they got a white ele¬ 
phant on their hands by this time.’ ” 
“Yessum, I can tell it to you most ex¬ 
actly like Granper said it, ‘cause I got 
a good memory—Paw sez so. 
“Well, when we went in, Grammer 
took me up in her lap an’ Granper took 
her hand. All the time he was talkin' 
he kep’ a strokin’ an’ pattin’ it.” 
“ ‘Children,’ he sez. ‘When I was a 
young man my lines fell to me in pleas¬ 
ant places. I didn't have to work hard 
to pay for my farm as you boys have— 
better for me, perhaps if I had. It was 
much larger then than now. Everything 
I undertook prospered. I said in my 
heart I shall never be moved. I was 
blessed with a beautiful and loving wife, 
a son and heir to carry on the name and 
position of the Martins and a daughter 
who gave promise of great beauty. I 
had reason to be proud, but my pride 
was the kind that goes before destruc¬ 
tion. The Age of Reason was my Bible 
and Voltaire was my prayer-book. 
Though the lives of my father and moth¬ 
er and my wife compelled my respect, 
yet I deemed in my conceit that they 
were deluded by old-fashioned notions 
that were doomed to disappear before the 
light of Reason. 
“ ‘At the height of my prosperity I 
sent in my application to the local lodg. 
—there was only one kind of lodge in 
those days. I have no doubt it would 
have been accepted, but, as soon as he 
heard of it, my father came to see me 
He asked me if I knew that no honest 
man could be a member of that fraterni¬ 
ty and an infidel at the same time. I 
asked him why and he told me. He said 
that though nothing on earth could give 
him as much pleasure as to know that I 
had come back to the belief of my fathers 
he would rather see his son an infidel 
than a hypocrite. He would not argue 
with me—perhaps I might have bested 
him at that—all lie would say was. “I 
would rather see my son an infidel than 
a hypocrite.” That set me to thinking 
as nothing else could have done. 
“ ‘Possibly this might have worn oft' in 
time, but. shortly after, our children 
caught the diphtheria. It had raged all 
around us. but we had taken every pre¬ 
caution known in those days, and how 
they contracted it I cannot conceive. 
Anti-toxins and methods unknown then 
have since robbed the disease of much 
of its terror, but then it was a terrible 
scourge, and the neighborhood was in a 
panic. Our help left us. Our only way 
of obtaining supplies was to have some 
of the bolder neighbors bring them t" 
where the free-delivery box now stands 
and leave them for me to take after they 
had withdrawn to a distance, when they 
would ask after the children and I would 
tell them what we needed further. 
“ ‘At the height of our extremity a 
preacher, who had a few years before 
come to our hills from the city for his 
health, and whom, in the days of my 
prosperity I had laughed at, came to us 
to help care for our little ones. To my 
protests that he owed it to his wife and 
two little girls to avoid us as the rest 
did he replied that his wife had sent him 
and he could trust his little ones to God 
and her. Mother here can tell you hew 
gentle as a woman he was and did all 
that possibly could be done. But they 
died. Then it was I discovered that I 
had no ground to stand upon. Mother 
had. and but for her I think I should 
have gone crazy. 
“ ‘Then came the war. I wanted to go. 
but hated to leave Mother after what she 
had been through. It was not a con¬ 
flict between love and duty, but between 
my duty to my country and my duty to 
my wife. One day I came across the 
preacher. As a mere formality I asked 
him where he was bound for. and he re- 
(Concluded on page I.}77.) 
THE ENTIRE FAMILY READY FOR SANTA CLAUS. 
