THE STORY OF HOPE FARM 
began in the November issue of Country Life in America. Here is 
a true story of a successful farmer, by H. W. Collingwood, editor of the 
“Rural New Yorker.” “The smell of the soil” is on every page — as 
well as the fine insight of a man with a vision. 
The Annual Christmas Number 
of 
Country Life in America 
Much of the text will be printed in two colors and there will be eight 
pages in four colors. The Story of Hope Farm is continued — there are 
many Christmas features and all the regular departments on every phase 
of life out-of-doors. 
Join the “Country Life” Family 
If you like the kinship of those who love gardens and trees and dogs 
and horses and delightfully appointed homes, draw up a chair at the 
“Country Life” fireside. 
Here is a Getting Acquainted Special Offer 
If you are not a regular reader of Country Life in America, we want 
to introduce the magazine to you with these special issues. We offer 
five issues — November to March, inclusive, for $1.00. If purchased 
separately on the newsstands these issues would cost you $ 2 . 05 . It’s 
because we want to get you started as a reader of “ Country Life ” 
that we offer them to you at less than half price. 
Country Life in \ 
America \ 
Garden City, New York \ 
Gentlemen: ' 
I enclose $1.00, for which please 
send me Country Life in America from 
November to March, inclusive. 
This coupon is for your convenience. 
Will you use it? Please. 
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This offer of 5 issues for $1.00 
includes the Christmas Annual 
and the Gardening Manual in 
March — both 50-cent issues. 
H. & G. 12-14 
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' « ( ( *It’s a triumph,'* says Gertrude Atherton; **interesting from first to last* 99 
~ THE CAPTAIN OF HIS SOUL 
By HENRY JAMES FORMAN 
Author of “ London, an Intimate Picture.” 
This brilliantly written novel, laid entirely in New York, gives perhaps the most absorbing 
picture of life in America’s greatest city since the “House of Mirth.” Mr. Forman, how¬ 
ever, is an optimist, and shows the modern young man and woman as dominated by higher 
ideals than those of the preceding generation. 
12mo . $1.35 net • Postage, 10 cents 
McBRIDE, NAST & CO., 31 Union Square, North, NEW YORK 
Jimsy, the Christmas Kid 
(Continued from page 350) 
other link to his biscuit-riven chain. 
“Abner,” said Aunt Judith, nervously, 
at breakfast, “you — you don’t think this 
once — we — could have — a — a Christmas 
tree for Jimsy,” 
“Certainly not.” said Mr. Sawyer, and 
started violently at an outraged yell from 
somewhere near the wod-pile. 
“It—it must be Jimsy,” said mint Ju¬ 
dith, hurriedly. “He — he was up so early 
I gave him his breakfast. He’s shoveling 
the snow from the walks — ” 
“G’wan,” came a muffled roar. “Say 
that again and I'll bust yer face good.” 
Sounds of battle and villifying repartee 
speedily upset the Sawyer breakfast. Ab¬ 
ner Sawyer pushed back his chair and 
strode hastily to the kitchen window. He 
saw concentric circles of fists and snow 
and a yapping dog. He could not know 
that the defensive section of the mael¬ 
strom was Specks, the Christmas urchin 
next door — or that Jimsy and Specks set¬ 
tled every controversy under heaven in a 
fashion of their own. 
The first citizen flung up the window. 
“James!” he said, in a terrible voice. 
The concentric circles wavered — then 
whirled dizzily on. 
“Jimsy!” 
Jimsy upset his freckled antagonist in 
the snow, and wheeled. 
“Mister Sawyer !” he yelled, indignant¬ 
ly ; “he went an’ said ye was an ol’ crab 
an’ a miser an’ a skinflint an’ an’ — a stiff, 
an’ I blacked his eye fur him, an’ tol’ him 
he lied. An’ he went an’ said ye didn’t 
have no heart or ye wouldn’t let Aunt 
Judith carry in the wood an’ do all the 
work, an’ never git no new clothes — ” 
“Yi! Yi! Yi! Yi!” derided Specks. 
“Boney Middleton tol’ me — Boney Mid¬ 
dleton tol’ me. You won't have no tree or 
nuthin’!” 
“Didn’t I tell ye ’bout the biscuit?” de¬ 
manded Jimsy, fiercely, “an’ Stump sleep- 
in’ in the work-shop, didn't I ? Hain’t 
that enuff? Hain’t he good to boys an’ 
dogs ? — I — I don’t want no Christmas tree, 
ye big stiff; I’m goin’ to have turkey — ” 
But Abner Sawyer had closed the win¬ 
dow with a bang. 
IV 
And the day before Christmas the Vil¬ 
lage Conscience telephoned the Lindon 
Bank. 
“I felt that I must call you up, Mr. Saw¬ 
yer,” she said firmly, “and tell you that 
the boy you have with you over Christmas 
is going around from door to door, ring¬ 
ing the bell and — begging!'’ 
“Begging!” 
“Perhaps I shouldn’t call it just that — 
but — well — saying ’Merry Christmas !’ 
rather hopefully.” 
Feeling rather sick, Abner Sawyer for¬ 
mally thanked his informer, and rang off. 
In writing to advertisers please mention House & Garden. 
402 
