THE LADIES’ FLORAL CABINET. 
327 
the girl with a trembling voice; “ I have had everything 
a girl could want, but—you’re mistaken about Tom 
Ingalls, I have never given him up, and now his mother 
is sick and alone I am going to stay with her.” 
“ You’re not going to do any such thing! ” thundered 
Mr. Watkins, bringing his fist down on the table near 
which he sat with an emphasis that jarred the room. 
“ I am my own mistress, and I shall go and take care 
of Tom Ingalls’ mother,” repeated Lizzie, with unshaken 
firmness. 
“ Then you’ll never cross my threshold again or get a 
dollar of my money, dead or alive!” said he passionately. 
“ That will be as you please, father,” was Lizzie’s quiet 
answer, and before night she and her few belongings 
were under the widow’s roof. 
Mrs. Ingalls dropped all her cares on Lizzie’s plump 
young shoulders and soon regained a portion of her 
health, and with it more of cheerfulness than she had 
known since Tom’s father died. Aunt Martha had al¬ 
ways had a depressing influence on her, but Lizzie had 
a bright, buoyant nature akin to Tom’s, and the girlish 
companionship was like a tonic to the lonely woman. 
A few years later there was quite a sensation in the 
little commqnity about them. A notorious burglar had 
been captured in a neighboring town, and, after his trial 
had resulted in a ten years’ sentence to State prison, he 
had cleared Tom Ingalls’ reputation by confessing to the 
theft of Mr. Watkins’ wolfskin robes nearly ten years 
before. 
The greater part of the community had always believed 
that there was a mistake somewhere, and had never really 
credited Tom with the theft in spite of his conviction, but 
now his innocence was proved, and the two women who 
had been true to him all these years were glad and 
triumphant. 
The night before Christmas they were sitting before the 
cheerful fire that burned in the old-fashioned kitchen 
fireplace. Mrs. Ingalls was a sweet, motherly looking 
woman though pale and thin, while Lizzie was blooming 
as a rose, still girlish and handsome, though she had 
passed her twenty-fifth year. They had been talking of 
Tom as usual and wondering where he might be. 
“ If he is alive—and I believe he is—and has heard 
that his name is cleared, we shall see him soon,” said 
Lizzie. _ . 
“ You are always hopeful, Lizzie,” said the other ; “ no 
other girl would have waited for him all these years or 
given up a good home to take care of his feeble mother.” 
“ I could not do otherwise,” answered Lizzie. “ Tom 
was innocent and my own father had prosecuted him. It 
was for me to make such reparation as I could. I think 
I always loved Tom from the time when he used to carry 
me—a five-year-old tot—to school on his sled in winter, 
but my father’s injustice bound me to him irrevocably.” 
At this moment an unusual noise about the premises 
made the two women start nervously. The noise seemed 
to be overhead and presently a voice called down the 
chimney, saying, 
“ Look out down there, good friends ! ” and with this 
warning down came a mass of snow on the fire smother¬ 
ing the flames and scattering the ashes about the hearth. 
Then the voice called down again, “ Did you think Santa 
Claus was a salamander that he could go down such a 
hot chimney as this ? ” 
The voice sounded high and thin coming so far down 
the chimney, but there was a tone in it that acted on Liz¬ 
zie like an electric shock. She sprang from her seat and 
caught hold of Mrs. Ingalls, crying out, “ Mother, it’s 
Tom! We might have known he wouldn’t come home 
like anybody else 1 ” Then with momentary reaction she 
sank back in her chair, white and faint. 
“ More likely it is some of the village boys up to mis¬ 
chief,” replied Mrs. Ingalls, yet trembling with excite¬ 
ment at the possibility of its being Tom. 
But there was the greatest scratching and squeaking in 
the chimney, and in another moment a live turkey hung 
before them, struggling and fluttering. 
Lizzie sprang from her chair and released the fowl 
from the rope to which it hung and shut it in a basket. 
“ Well, I never ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Ingalls ; “who ever 
heard of a Christmas turkey coming down the chimney 
before, and alive, too ! ” 
But now there was more racket and a terrific squealing 
and in a moment more a live pig, as large and as white 
as a two-year-old baby, nung before them. Lizzie had 
fed too many living pigs, and salted down too many 
dead ones to be seriously dismayed; so she laughingly 
released the pig and dumped him into the wood-box for 
temporary safety. Then there was more squeaking and 
fluttering, and a pair of chickens reluctantly appeared, 
which were consigned to the same basket that harbored 
the turkey, and Lizzie stood by the hearth expectantly, 
but the voice called down the chimney once more, saying: 
“ Your chimney is too small; the rest must come in at 
the door.” 
Then followed a scrambling on the roof and a step at 
the door, which Lizzie flung open, and there stood Santa 
Claus in a great fur coat with a big pack on his back, 
and venerable white hair and beard. But Lizzie flew at 
him “ like a wild-cat,” as he said afterward, and presently, 
before Mrs. Ingalls could collect her scattered wits, the 
fur coat and the pack were on the floor and the white 
wig and beard were in Lizzie’s hands, and there stood 
Tom, stout, hearty and laughing, holding Lizzie tightly 
to him with one arm and reaching out the other to his 
mother ! 
Tom and Lizzie were married on Christmas Day. 
There should be no more waiting, Tom said; and the pig 
and his companions helped to furnish the wedding feast. 
Tom had done well in those ten years and had come 
home much richer than he went away. He added more 
land and stock to their farm and built the pretty new 
house for which his mother had always hoped. Tom 
was prosperous and respected and held responsible 
offices in his native town, but he never lost his relish 
for fun and practical jokes. 
But Mr. Watkins could not hold out against Tom’s 
exuberant good-nature, and the two families were soon 
on the best of terms. In fact, Tom's father-in-law be¬ 
came so fond and proud of him that at his death he left 
his whole property to him, thus keeping his word to 
Lizzie. Mrs. Susie A. Bisbee. 
