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THE COLBORNE EXPRESS, COLBORNE. ONT., THURSDAY, DEC 22, 1921. Christmas For Rent By Mary Carolyn Davies i thoughts or consciences alone that c though she did not consider it necessary to tell him that it had anything to do with her Christmas plans. These last two weeks before Christmas were radiant ones. She found she was actually looking forward to Christmas. She could see people wearing holly without, feeling a pang of envy for their happiness. She was happy, too. She smiled at children, she sang as she worked, until the people next door, on both sides of her, banged on the wall. Her chief worry was uncertainty as to what she should buy her mother for Christmas. She read lists published in magazines, she asked the advice of clerks, she even read Christmas stor-what fictitious daughti A studio is half-way betwen--- id an apartment. To live in a studio torture. Days can. That day did. So; about it. She had quite gotten le need not necessarily be an artist; this year I'm afraid of Christmas, and| any feeling that she was a fictitious > need only have an income half-;for a shield I'm going to get myself way between the income of room; a Christmas present!" dwellers and apartment dwellers, as He leaned forward, all attention. Theodora had at times. "I'm perfectly grown up enough to At other times she had nothing at I waste .my own money!" all. Her chosen profession involved j "Well, get yourself whatever you cheques, also long intervals of cheque-1 want for Christmas, child. If this lessness. She had just lived through j weather holds out the ice will be great an interval. And to-day had come a, by Christmas Day." cheque. Theodora drew her typewriter on It was a stupendous cheque; stupen-' its footstool toward her. "Give the dous, that is, to Theodora, for it was door a little slam as you go out," she the largest she had ever had. As she said. "There's something wrong with was looking with round eyes at her the lock." cheque, somebody knocked. | _ "The ice will be fine by Christn She sprang > turn the key in the Douglas repeated.; lock, but she was too late. The intruder had already entered. He shook the snow off his hat into her fireplace. "I saw the sign on your door 'Busy. Keep out/ so I came in," he explained isily. "Because you knew that you'd be bothering me," she cried wratlrfully. "Because I knew no one else would be here," he corrected. "There are nine men and tea here, every time I get away from work and. come to call. One never sees you alone!" "Douglas, I'm busy." "Being an advertising man, I'm used to dealing with busy people who don't want to see me. Have a chair, Theo- Douglas adjusted a weird Russian purple and blue sofa cushion behind his own curly head. "Your house is ever so much more hospitable than you," he grinned as he settled himself comfortably. "But what's that in your hand?" "Oh, I'd forgotten; Look! A cheque!" He looked. "Thank the fates! You've been getting thinner all fall until now you're cadaverous. It's time you were getting something substantial to eat. I hope, Theodora," he added sternly as if warned by some memory, "that you won't spend this one foolishly." "But it's never any fun to spend money the other way!" she declared. "Fun!" «"? MW M.c souvu up ueuantly, lj know exactly what 1. intend to spend|-part of this cheque on, and nothing I is going to stop me!" "Nevertheless--" "You may as well stop there, Douglas. It won't do you any good. Ij never did like any sentence that began | with 'nevertheless.' And besides, I've! decided what I'm going to have! And! f tell!" tic ten home to get the parental con-. sent to her borrowing. She knew the idered what mothers of this district as well she answered, sweetly interested. "Will you go skating with me?" "No, thanks," she said absently. "Will you marry me?" "No. thanks." "Perseverance brings success," h« quoted. "Does it?" she was quite willing tc be convinced, but at the same time! faintly ironical. He flushed, then laughed. "Well, itl hasn't seemed to so far," he admitted. "But, Theodora! I can't go on like this! Don't you care at all ? I've been a crazy fool to even wish for it--but I've had dreams of your marrying me some day--" "You promised not to speak of that again." "I know. I'm sorry. I'll be careful." her mother, with the stipulated she had set aside for that purpose would buy for her Christmas present. Perhaps she would buy her mitten^ and mufflers and good stout shoes/ There was no telling. Theodora really didn't at all mind what the present was. The point was that it would bei a secret, and secrets are so necessary to Christmas. There -was only one thing thi really wanted, anyway. Douglas the only person who knew what it and, as it wasn't flowers or books oi candy, of course it didn't do him thtj least bit of good to know. What Theo^ dora wanted was a wrist watch, an infinitesimally small, queer-shaped, gold one. She had seen just the verjf one in a jeweler's window on Yonge street when she had been window-shopping with Douglas, and had pointed it out to him. As Christmas came excitingly near, whatever Theodora might be doing with her hands and eyes, her brain1 was busy every moment thinking of the Christmas day to be. At first, ir her anticipations, it seemed perfect; but soon, to her dismay, she found that there was something lacking. It wasn't quite a complete Christmas after all, this one that she had conjured up. What could it be that it {Smooth field: reeded? Snow, a farmhouse, a moth-f&orses, and at er, what else should Christmas have? Why, the most necessary thing of all, of course--children! Why hadn't she thought of that before? Shj ja hat and wraps and went She left Yonge street and up to the "Ward." Now she familiar ground. She had on Theodora noisily inserted a piece of paper and began typing. As far as she was concerned he had already descended ail the flights of stairs and was far down the street. Still he lingered. "Anyway, tell me what you're going to buy," he insisted. * - "A selfish Christmas present. Something I've wanted every Christmas I've been in Toronto--and anyway, I'm cn,IicJreR Sine in;cw not going to buy it, I'm going to rent ' Thfi trouD-e was> she did! j as soon as she appeared, litt'u I eyed, black-haired ragamuffin with her out fjw„, nowherp a)1j flung th typewriter and wishe ,-alked did the children; and all the mothers proved willing, even anxious, to lend their children to Theodora. Everything arranged. They were to be ready promptly, and she was to call for Christmas morning. She wrote Mrs. Ferguson to explain about the children and to say that the cheque would be enlarged commensurately. Christmas morning! And such a morning! Sun and snow all a-sparkle! ly in town, what would it be in the country ? Theodora marshaled her children and led them to a tion. It wasn't so hard to get them into the train as she had feared, for the older children instinctively took possession of the younger and dragged, pushed, pulled and carried them into their seats. As the train started Theodora looked at her charges. Have you ever been in a train before?" None of them had. "Like it?" asked Theodora. Did they? I "Wait till we get into the country! UTou'll like that even better." Her prophecy was correct. There yt&s a farmer neighbor at the station with a sleigh to drive them to the farm. How the children reveled sleigh-bells and marveled of ind at the hood. She expected "Why not?" "Is it?" ' "I i ,nt it!" "Look here, Theodora--" he swu an arm argumerrtatively. Theodora explained a little furth "I'm going to spend it selfishly, you realize that two weeks from morrow's Christmas? And, Doi is as--" she hesitated, looked fearfully around, and then confessed in a gush of confidence, "I'm afraid of Christ- "Afraid of Christmas!" "Yes, just plain afraid," di9 * i. "Any other day of the year I can • work and laugh and talk. Any other evening of the year I can go to The Little Dutch Inn. or to the Diet Kitchen, or to the IJrown Betty, or to half; a dozen other restaurants on Yonge or Bloor street?,......-and be happy. But on Christmas I can't be happy any-! where! On Christmas I'm homesick!"! Douglas couldn't speak. "Poor little kid," he thought. "It's tough to be an! orphan, to have always been an! >rphan, and to ha' ?" he asked, j jje ( battle-ground j .<Th j _ third cousins and the PacTflcj . coast." "Isn't this v "This? Th where 1 daily fight off the invading host of callers, so that I can get bit of work done! Whoever heard of » home in the city at Christmas? CW-! M™pfr mas doesn't happen in citii only in the country!" "But--" "I've always been afraid of Christmas in Toronto. Christmas hurt m« last year and the year before. It isn't promise. What are you go: with that money?" "I'm going to rent a mother!" "Rent? A mother?" "By the day." He clutched at a chair^for support. "Just over Christmas. A mother and a farm- and memories and a real i Christmas, the right things to eat--I | don't know what they are. How can I, when I've been eating Christmas [dinners in restaurants so long? But j old ladies in the country know. And j a gray-haired mother to eat them j with, and snow outside the window!" I "But where under the sun are you; , going to get them?" ! Theodora looked at him in scorn fori his ignorance. "Advertise," said she.! He burst into a shout of uncontrollably merry laugh Ler. She regarded him with cool dignity,' then turned again to her typewriter, j "You're going to advertise?' "Well, it really isn't the right way! to do," she admitted. "I ought to have J only to choose. They .ought to adver-tise! There are Hundreds of lonely! ! oU ladies in the country at Christmas, i One reads about them in stories! They! know how to make cranberry sauce. > They have snow outside their win-1 dows. They should hang out signs on their front porches. 'Christmas for Rent!' They should put that notice1 in the papers, anyway: but they! don't." She looked immeasurably •ything they saw they neared their destination, Theodora realized that she was frightened. What if Mrs. Ferguson shouldn't |ike her ? "Here's the place," the farmer pointed his mittened hand and almost at the same instant they stopped, jjj All the children were out at once jpheodora marshaled them into line !and advanced upon Mrs. Ferguson. JL,"Merry Christmas! Merry Christ-pas!" the children shrieked. They had Been Merry Christmas-ing the conductor, the other passengers and every pne they had seen all morning. y Christmas, grandma!" cried >ut the most remembering one. And took it up. *fe44 4h-em--y6u v,-iri-e to be' grandma to-da; all call you*'grandma personal Condi hope you don't mind?" For a moment Mrs. Ferguson gazed rthy-elted, if she had seen h. ave a good trip ?' splendid, trip. . CHRISTMAS is the great occasion when we are all supposed to renew our allegiance to the Christ, to put the Christ teaching of the brotherhood of man in practice. Christmas ought to be a great heart-mellowing;, affection-quickening, friendship-renewing occasion. It is the time of all others when we should realize that we are all brothers; that we are all members of the same great human family, children of the same great Father-Mother-God. It is the time, if ever, when we should recognize that though oceans and continents divide us, though we speak different tongues, may differ in race, color and creed, yet we arc so closely-related in thought and motive that our deepest, most vital interests are identical. There was no doubt about it, Mrs, Ferguson had a sense of humor. "How glorious Christmas is," sighed Theodora. "Since I've been in the city, I've wished it came once in ten years. Now I wish it came every month!" She wished it more than ever, as the two women in the kitchen did the immemorial last things to the Christmas dinner, with all the tastings and adventures of holiday cooking. Theodora was wearing a big blue apron of Mrs. Ferguson's and felt like a real woman, she explained, instead of only a city one. "I told some of the neighbors about the children coming," Mrs. Ferguson confessed, "and they all were very much interested. Several of them begged to come to the tree this afternoon, but I wouldn't let any of them; except that I did think that we should have a Santa Claus, so I promised one of the neighbors that he might be that." "Splendid! I'd forgotten about a Santa Claus!" This last had oven under their breaths, as the last child filed into the din'ng-reoni. "Such a dinner'. And such a din!" as Theodora said. Turkey and cranberry sauce and mince pie and pumpkin pie and apple uie, and "everything " as the bi'.ckest-eyed grandchild put it. The borrowed children were having a wonderful time, and after dinner the wor.derfulness increased. "What would you like to do now?" asked Theodora. Theodora rather gladly into one of the plush chairs almost dust-captured pai His aid a voice orner of the room, from ristmas tree, it seemed. > is there?" Theodora tattled amazement, dusk stepped Santa vas relieved. Only the wbat was the matter Id so like some she i speated Santa ■•red stories!" is fairy r.loi Theodora pounced UDon the luckless tenth that had sv.U "teache ." "I'm not a teacher, honey!" she r ro tested. "But I'll tell you, sir ce we're prctend- ing to-day, let's pretend--he * would you like to play that you'r all my aunt? You "see you can call i ne -Aunt Theodora'." "You den't look like my au at," said ore. "It isn't so fat with yet ," Public ,.idn.ol had heipei ..bo vttgrt <7 mingle their idioms bewilder ir. civ i But the children accepted avidly. Most of them kissed her, and they all tried the new term on their tongues, and found it sweet Theodora loved the feeling of being surrounded by relatives. She prised at herself for loving it She had thought she was happy, be ng inde- pendent, being alone. But this day was doing something for he . It was making her over, or at least t rying to. She was in a fright lest it s icceed. "Merry Chrst Claus, coming a step nearer. "Merry Christmas!" answered Theodora, "and thank you." Then, "Douglas!" she shrieked, as the neighboi took off his mask; for under the mask she saw the familiar, teasing face. "You're welcome-- Theodora." "How did you get here?" "Same train you did. Smoking car. Watched you." "But how did you know? I didn't tell you where Mrs. Ferguson lived. I didn't, tell you anything. How--" "Are yov. "Yes, I i a. Ferguson says. I'm her neighbor or used to be about twenty years ag >. You never happened to ask for the latitude and longitude of the fa>-m I used to tell you about, where I lived when I was a youngster. Come to the window and I can ro:n. it out to you. Mrs. Ferguson was ot>r nearest neighbor i I There her letter t "Oh!" enough to hold her "Why? Wasn't it a good Wasn't it effective?" "It was the best of them < groaned. "It was meant to be. I chance and I took it. What's of spending years learning I hfY'c i Christmas. So I decided and I did." satisfied." r ad. I dictated napped snapped Douglas. It had never been like this before. In town Theodora had always felt so capable of living alone for the rest of her life. She liked to be free; she liked to be sufficient unto Theodora, and to need no one, not even Douglas. But here, in this snow-nestled farmhouse, where she had felt the pull of home and dependence, and had known the sweetness of some things she had Give me the hearthstone with the glow that warms the soul within: I choose the gift of kindly smiles, that wealth can never win: The laugh that ripples to the lips from Hearts where peace sublime " Reigns in the fullness of content to bless the Christmas-time. "A Christmas "A Christmas "Oh, and a de At this momc j "0, Douglas!" ; His arms were about her and she | put her head down on his shoulder | with as much the manner o the tra- i ditional clinging vine as if she had | never owned a studio or se en a city | street. It was a complete 8 urrender I and Douglas knew that his siege of 1 many months was over at 1 St. j The snowy silence without was bro- i looking for a 'Christina \(3£ristrnas CarolHiB ! It is easy, 0 my masters, to find4 , "Theodora, vou si anyway;I, wl„„ D^ st hand but did not se< t all s s Dav T° Plpase the Lord in using the holiest of days. some1 "No!" says the rich man, "I am filled v.*ii.n care, j Sables for my wife--diamonds fine and rare? Yes,! Pearls for my daughters, swift cars for my sons?-iat in;1 \ shall be mad from worrying before the great Ev< Christmas-Time. Jingle of the sleigh-bells. Little feet astir, Scarlet of the holly. Green of pine and Br, Gleam of gilt and silver Where the candles glow. Little trees a-glltter, Branches bending low! Jingie of the sieigh-bells, Starlight on the snow, Stockings by the fireside. Swinging to and fro. Restless heads a-dreaming, Loving faces near. Now, as all the dhildren know, Christmastime is here! She waved ner hand toward the door. "I've a lot to do before I go home for Christmas!" And when he had gone, she locked tho door. Douglas was always about, when she wanted to work, anyway. It was really annoying. For the -next few days Theodora hardiv left her room, except to scurry round the corner to eat. In fact, she had her meals at places where she knew the coffee and the tablecloth were execrable, simply in order that she might get back to her room sooner and go on reading the letters. Even the postman was interested in the quantity of them. But when the real one came, she knew it. There was r.o doubt, no weighing ! "Ah," says his brother, " 1 know the Gift He gave; ! I know that He redeemed me--1 was once a slave, j I wish I had a chalice set with rubies red | As the blood of pigeons, or sapphires for His Head." ' But--oh--seek out the sad man to whom all inns are closed. Who knocked in vain at every door where honest folk reposed. Oh, cheer the widowed woman and dry the children's tears, And drive away for one whole year the wolf the orphan fears! i little Aladdin in a cue oY M ' « 1 toys that would \ ■ind, and admirin ] dolls to order, th: for anything else. For the niY'e.:'. 1 she almost forgot iguson the polar be , bought for her. i to give Mrs. Fe> pSintotefi * A good magazine or a good book is a fine Christmas present ;for the young folks, as well as the grown-ups. In making your Christmas | caramels, it is well to remember that a pinch of yeast powder put ! into caramels after they have i begun to" boil will make them smoother and more creamy. s easy, 0 r please the slers, to ind the bt the holies it of wa To give gifts which are so elaborate that one must economize for a whole year afterward in order to get square with the world, i-s to lose sight of the true spirit of Christmas. Gifts should be appraised on the basis She ild i Mrs. r th< ven the an rob heir Not living mi, but rompts