1498 
'1'H fcC KUKAL new-vokker 
“Our Syrian Guest” 
A Christmas Story 
By Harry Ayres 
“No, ma’am! Mister and Mis’ Hol¬ 
comb, we didn’t go up to Gran’per’s for 
Christmas. It was their turn, this year, 
and we was goin’ round by Uncle Jim’s 
and all go up together. Maw made some 
of her mince-pies and a lot o’ fixin’s; but, 
as it turned out, she had to send them 
and our presents for Grau’per and Grara- 
mer and Aunt Sophy up to Uncle Jim’s, 
and let them take ’em up. It made Maw 
feel kinder bad, cause she sez we wun’t 
have the chance to spend Christmas up 
to Gran’per’s many more times, maybe. 
“She said she bet we’d have a cold 
snap after that big fall o’ snow, and she 
went into the spare room after some ex- 
try comfortables to put on the beds. She 
was speshly anxious about Henry and 
Em’ly cause they will sleep with their 
winders wide open. Lo, and behold! 
when she opened up the top one, there 
“Our Syrian Guest” 
was Mouser all curled up with four o’ 
the cutest little kittens you ever see. 
We’d give up Mouser for lost; ’cause we 
hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her for a 
week, l’aw said he bet she’d got caught 
in one o’ my traps, and Maw said if sin; 
had that was the last traps I’d set with 
her consent. 
“Well, she brung ’em into the kitchen 
just as men Paw come in from doin’ the 
noon chores. She sez, ‘Ezry, here’s a job 
for you, right after dinner—I can’t have 
a mess o’ kittens around the house at 
this season of the year. Besides, we 
got four more cats around now than the 
law allows.’ 
“Soon’s we’d et dinner, Paw sez, ‘I’ll 
be ashamed to look anybody in the face 
for a week, but I might as well git that 
job over with,’ and lie started for them 
kittens. I sez, ‘Maw, let me have ’em— 
I’ll take good care of ’em.’ 
“ ‘No,’ she sez, ‘I can’t have ’em around 
and besides, the poor old cat is nothin’ 
but skin and bones, and she ain’t able to 
take proper care of ’em.’ 
“ ‘She is, too,’ I sez. ‘What did the 
Lord give ’em to her for if she ain’t?’ 
“Paw, he haw-hawed right out; but she 
only pulled me over to her and give me a 
kiss. I don’t see what wimmen-folks has 
got to be allers kisgin* for! She fixed ’em 
all up nice in a box behind the stove, 
and Paw told her they was Mouser’s 
Christmas present. 
“Maw started to say sump’n about 
bringin’ coals to Newcastle—yessir, I see 
it in my jography—it’s in Delaware— 
but there come a knock on the door. ’Fore 
I could turn round to open it, and while 
Maw was sayin’, ‘For the land sakes ! T 
hope it ain’t the preacher—my kitchen 
lookin’ like this!’ the door opened, and 
there stood a woman-peddler. She had 
a pack big enough for a boss and a big 
satchel besides. She sez, ‘You wanner buy 
somethings?’ and ’fore we could say any¬ 
thing she had her pack down and her 
satchel open, and begun to haul out a 
lot o’ wimmen’s lixin’s. 
“Paw sez. ‘We don’t buy from peddlers; 
but I guess you’re in time for a bite of 
dinner’—then he give a big jump and 
caught her just as she was failin' over. 
He put her in his big rocker and sez, 
‘Mary, this woman’s goin’ to faint.’ 
“Maw run to the cupboard and got a 
bottle o’ ai'omygit spirits o’ pneumonia 
what Dr. Stiles told her to keep on 
hand ’cause of her heart, and she fixed 
her up a drink. Then Em’ly come in and 
put a boolyon cube in some hot water 
and set it on the stove. Her and Maw 
took off the woman’s things, and Maw 
sez, ‘Why the poor thing’s feet and legs 
are soppin wet! Ezra, draw her up to 
the stove—don’t stand there like a stoat 
in a bottle! Why, you poor creature! 
Your shoes are more fitten for a city 
sidewalk than out in the country.’ 
“She come to, after a while; and she 
took Maw’s hand and kissed it. Ma>v 
sez, ‘Land o’ livin’ child, I ain’t the 
Queen of England !’ and she pulled her 
hand away and begun strokin’ the wom¬ 
an’s hair. My ! When she smiled up at 
Maw she had the whitest teeth you ever 
see! 
“When Em’ly give her the soup she 
wanted to kiss her hand, too, but Em’ly 
wouldn’t let her. ’Stead, she kissed her 
on the cheek and the woman begun to cry. 
Seems to me wimmen is allers kissin’ or 
cryin’. 
“When she got better they tried to get 
sump’n out of her, but she couldn't talk 
United States. She pulled out a piece 
o’ paper what said 114 Schuyler St., 
Blankenburg, on it; and Maw sez, 
‘You'll never make Blankenburg, child; 
it’s 40 miles from here.’ The woman 
shook her head; then she pulled out a 
cross and sez, ‘I Chr-ristian’—just like 
that. 
- “Paw sez, ‘Mother, this is a case for 
Father Lavelle. He’s a foreigner, and 
they say he can speak most any language 
there is. I saw him go down, this morn- 
in’, and I'm goin’ to ’phone the village 
—mebbe I can ketch him on his way back 
from Belfort.’ 
“The poor woman was so beat out she 
couldn’t get up on her feet when she 
tried, so Maw sent me'n Paw out whilst 
her and Em’ly put her to bed. When she 
called us back she looked kinder seare.v, 
and sez, ‘Father, this may be a case for 
the priest and it may not, but as sure as 
my name is Mary Barlow it’s a case for 
the doctor.’ Then she whispered sump'n 
and Paw went to the ’phone again. 
“I didn’t see’s I could be any help, so 
I went to help Henry saw wood. If ’t 
hadn’t been for them kittens I'd a ’gone 
with him right after dinner, ’cause we got 
a new gasoline engine and it’s just fun 
to see that thing chaw up wood. I told 
him all about it. and ’long ’bout four 
o’clock he sez, ‘Well, Bub, that’s the last 
stick we’ll saw till after we get over the 
effects of our Christmas dinner. We'll 
draw off the water and cover up Mr. 
Strong-arm good and snug, then we'll hie 
ourselves hence and see how our guest is 
gettin’ on. I’ll bet you the dollar I lost 
in Mill Creek 10 years ago last Summer 
that I get there before you do—now! 
One—two—three—Go !’ 
“Course I beat him— he can’t run ! He 
can beat Paw swingin’ a ax though— 
Paw owns up to it. When we got there 
the priest had come. He’d been in to see 
her and was tollin’ Paw that she was a 
Syrian woman, tryin’ to got to Blanken¬ 
burg to meet her husband. Ho could make 
out that much, but lie didn't talk Syrian 
very well and she couldn’t talk French 
no better, so they’d have to let it go at 
that for the present. 
“The doctor was there, too; but we 
didn’t see him till supper. Whilst Paw'n 
Henry was doin’ the barn chores and 
milkin’, I fed the hens and gethered the 
aigs and fed the calves. I wanted to feed 
the pigs, too; hut Paw said he guessed 
he'd tend to that part hisself—I was half- 
hen, half-hoss and half-cow, all right, but 
it took a man of experience to be half¬ 
hog—too many went the whole thing. 
“Henry and Ern'ly got the supper, and 
I bet it was seven o'clock ’fore we set 
down. Soon's Em’ly got through she 
went into the bedroom and Maw set 
down; but she hadn’t et more’n three 
mouthfuls ’fore she started up. Dr. 
Stiles pulled her down again and told her 
to be ca’m and eat a good meal—she 
might need it before mornin’. 
“Them wimmen done a lot of trottin’ 
in and out, but they wouldn’t let nobody 
help. Dr. Styles went to the ’phone a 
few times, but mostly him and the priest 
played checkers and talked. Then he said 
he guessed he’d take a nap. lie laid 
down on the lounge and Henry covered 
him up with a new boss-blanket. I bet 
he was asleep in two minutes. Then 
Paw quit playin' dominoes with me and 
Wishbone Penwiper 
went to talkin’ with the priest. I dunno 
I guess they talked about everything. 
Paw sez he didn’t know a foreigner could 
know so much. The last I heard -’fore 1 
dropped off to sleep they was fightin’ the 
battle of Trenton and campin’ out with 
General Washington at Valley Forge. 
Henry, was readin’ most of the time. 
Em’ly sez the only thing in this world 
she’s jealous of is a book. 
“Along ’bout ’leven o’clock Maw come 
in. She sez, ‘Ezry, you take Jimmie to 
bed with you—you’ll only be in the way. 
Henry, you pack off too—that book’ll 
keep till day after tomorrow. Father 
Lavelle, if you’ve any consolation to offer 
that poor creature in there, now’s the 
time to do it—I’m goin’ to wake the doc¬ 
tor in ten minutes.’ 
“When we was undressin’ I sez to 
Paw, ‘Santy ain’t got no show in this 
house tonight. I bet they wunt be no 
Christmas tree, nor no presents, nor 
nothin’.’ lie sez, ‘You say your prayer 
and hop into bed, son. We’ll see what we 
do see in the mornin’.' 
“Well, sir! If it wa’nt most eight 
o’clock when I woke up. ’Fore I went 
into the kitchen I peeked in the parlor, 
and, sure nuff! there was a Christmas 
“Sally Piper” 
tree. Henry was back from the station 
and they was all at breakfast. When I 
'vent in they all sez—quiet like,—‘Merry 
Christmas! Jimmie.’ I sez, ‘Same to you 
all, ladies and gentlemen—Maw, how is 
the lady?’ She sez, ‘Doin’ as well as 
maybe, sonny.’ She seemed to be tickled 
’bout sump’n. 
“After I’d et maybe nine or ten pan¬ 
cakes and prob’Iy not more’n two or 
three pieces o’ sausage, Paw sez, ‘Seein’ 
that tin 1 doctor leaves right after break¬ 
fast. Jimmie, we’ll call that a meal. We 
w ill now adjourn to the parlor.’ 
“Well, sir! They was presents for 
everybody—how d’you s’pose Santy 
knowed the priest and the doctor and the 
Syrian woman was there? Last off, Maw 
goes out, and pretty soon she comes back 
with a bundle of clothes on her arm. 
She went up to the stove and sez, ‘Come 
here, sonny, and see what else Santy 
brought.’ She opened ’em up careful, 
and, land o’ Goshen ! it was a baby! 
“I ain’t much on babies, but I bet 
you’ll say that’s the prettiest one you 
ever see when you come over. I asked 
Maw whose is it, and she said it be¬ 
longed to the Syrian woman. 
December 18, 1915. 
“ ‘What’ll we call him, Jimmie?’ sez 
she. 
“I told her I didn't know. Some said 
one thing and some said another. Finely 
Paw sez, ‘What does his mother call him 
—seems to me she's got one or two rights 
in this matter.’ 
“ ‘She’s named him Yusuf,’ sez Maw. 
‘Ain’t it a funny name?’ 
“The priest said that was Syrian for 
Joseph—Tie is named for Saint Joseph, 
the father of our Saviour,’ he sez. 
“ ‘Let’s call him .Toe, then,’ I sez. 
“Paw had a book in his hand—it was 
his present from Maw. He held it up. 
lie sez, ‘Father Lavelle got the boy’s 
father on the ’phone, this mornin’, and 
he’ll be here tomorrow night, so we won’t 
have him very long. While he is here, 
however, and as long as I live, this is 
what he will be to me,’ and he pointed to 
the title of the book. 
“It was, ‘Our Syrian Guest.’ ” 
Odd Christmas Gifts 
Wisiirone Pejv wiper. —Here is a pen¬ 
wiper made from a chicken's wishbone. 
Have the bone clean and dry. Take a 
piece of shoemaker’s wax, which is a 
shiny black, and press on the top of the 
wish bone for the head. You can mould 
it into the shape of a darkey’s head, shap¬ 
ing the nose, then use two white beads, 
pressed into the wax for eyes, and a red 
one for a mouth. A little white cotton 
batting can be stuck on for hair or finely 
raveled black yarn. Next make him a 
high collar of stiff white paper, fastening 
it in place with a few stitches, then make 
a long cloak of heavy black woolen cloth 
(broadcloth or light weight felt is good). 
Cut the cloth something like a half cir¬ 
cle in shape, fold it around the wishbone 
and trim off so it will be straight around 
the bottom. If fixed right he can now 
stand alone. Next make a cape of the 
same cloth so it comes down around his 
shoulders and hides the absence of hands 
and arms. You can give him a tiny neck¬ 
tie, either white or any bright color you 
choose and now Mr. Wishbone Penwiper 
is done. 
Sally Piper. —Take a common clay 
pipe, a plain one with the little point on 
the bottom of the bowl. With a knife 
carefully sharpen this point into a long 
sharp nose, then with water color paints, 
colored crayons (or even pen and ink) 
mark her mouth out with red and if 
using water colors tint her cheeks pink. 
Outline her eyes with black, with a round 
blue spot in center, and give her high 
arching eyebrows of brown. For her 
dress use a paper sack the same length 
of the pipe, cut a tiny round hole in the 
bottom, just large enough for the stem 
of the pipe to go through. The pipe 
should be glued at the opening so it will 
Clothespin Fairy 
not slip out. The bottom corners of 
the paper sack forming her shoulders 
(sometimes one can get sacks with bright 
red and green stripes on them). Tie a 
string around the sack and draw it up 
to form the waist. Now if you are using 
the colored sacks all you will have to do 
is to add a sash of bright colored tissue 
(Continued on page 1499.) 
