PAGE TWENTY-SIX Rosie's Santy Man By IRENE BEACH "Oh dear! I wish he'd come," sigh- ed Rosie Perrone. "Mayba he be sick," sald the brother, as he dusted carefully the array of fruit arranged with such a holiday air in the narrow window of his shop. "He.come if he not sick. You walt, Santy man no forget." But Rosie in spite of her brother's encouraging words became 'very im- patient. Finally she started in search of the kind friend, who was none other than the Santy of her street. Not the real Santy of Christmas eve, but a man who just pretended he was the same jovial friend of holly and cheer and wore a cloak and hat of red, faced with fur, and carried instead of a long whip to urge tired reindeer, a "sign which told of a wonderful toy- shop just around the corner. A week before Pletro had seen from his little skop windows this same Santy man stagger and fall. Then both he and Rosie had helped the stranger into the fruit shop, where food and sympathy had been gemer- ously given. Now, it was the day be- fore Christmas and the stranger who each day had stopped at Pietro's little shop had failed to appear. "Maybe--he up the street some- wheres," the brother had called to Rosle. "When you see heem, tell heem, to-morrow we look for him to eat with us. Yes?" Rosie nodded and went on down the long avenue. There was a gentle snow. falling, just enough to add to the street the touch of Christmas. But nowhere could Rosie see the kind Santy man of her street, who had told her such wonderful tales of toys, fatries and of the real country of deep hills and red sunsets. Suddenly she thought of something, a something so different t it made her heart go thumpty-thuffp. She would go to the wonderful toyshop, just around the cormer and see for herself, if her friend was there. But not a tired, hurried clerk of the shop had time to answer Rosie's questions. Finally she approached a tall gray-haired man standing in the centre of the long aisle. he felt certain he would know something about the Santy of her street. ! "Please, do you know our Santy an? | "Who?" asked the man. | "The Santy man, who wore a red ' coat, cap and carried a sign?" "No, I don't. What is it you want to buy, little girl?" "l don't want to buy nothin'. I'm just lookin' for the Santy man of my street. He--" Then Rosie could say no mere. The lumps would stick in her throat, no matter how ahrd she swallowed. } Just what might have happened is hard to say, if a lady standing near hadn't heard what Rosie sald and wanted to help her. She knew ex- actly wh odo, . An hour later, after seeing Pletro at his little shop, Rosle eo awa) with the lady, who was very beau ful, by the way, in her big automo- Galeb's Gonversion By HAZEL OSWALD It was Christmas eve, and Caleb | Churton, the money-lender, sat in his great dining room, surrounded by all that makes fof luxurious living. "80 Jack preferred his artist's work to this" he mused, chuckling con- temptuously while he half spoke the words. Ten years before, his elder brother had told thelr father that he was not cut out for a Shylock, that he prefer- red to get a living by pleasanter means than his fellow-béings' flesh and blood, and had gone out into the world cursed by the father and laugh- ed at by his brother. It was three years later--and 12 months after he had annousiced his marriage to a fellow-artist's daughter --that old Churton died, leavifig all the business to Caleb, and not men- tioning Jack Churton by as much as a single word in his will To do him justice, Caleb had re- belled against this as much as he could, but he had found out that his brother was able to keep his head above water, and, after offering him a share--only to be indignantly re- fused--Caleb applied himself to the task of doubling his father's wealth. All these things went through his brain as he sat by his fire. Of a sud- den a thought struck him. "l will go and parade my wealth before them--will make the wife bit- terly envious and Jack sorry that he ever refused me!" With this amiable intention he rose, ordered his automobile to be brought out, and was soon whirling toward Jack's home. Suddenly the auto stopped, and he got out, telling the chauffeur to return in an hour, not longer. "If 1 am finished before, I can spend the time somehow," he thought. Up the steps of the great apartment he went until he came to a door labelled 42. Then he knocked, and getting no answer, entered very quiet- ly, finding the door not locked. He looked round the tiny hall, and then stepped into the first room. "Are you Santa Claus?' The timid little query stopped him in his wanderings, and he looked down to his feet to see c sunny-haired, blue- eyed little mite gravely regarding him. "But no, you can't be Santa Claus, for he's ever so old, and has got a white beard and a long coat, and a big bag full of toys, and comes down the chimney, and doesn't come till I've gone to bed, and--and--" She paused in her list of details for 'want of breath, and, the first time for many years, Churton laughed heartily. "You queer little mite," he sald, "I'm not Santy. Who are you?™ "I'm Gladys Churton, and I'm not queer, I'm very well, thank you." "So you are Gladys," he said. "Where are your father and mother." "They've gone out to buy some things for me, and they told me to be ever so good. They will be back soon." Churton looked around him. It was, #0 pionsaut, 80 happy, evidently, and the home he had left seemed to lack p t deal. He sighed. ! t's the matter, strange man?" "Nothing, dear." ! "But there must be something. I hlways go like that when I want a and won't buy it for me. Is little naughty haven't got a little girl" "Poor strange man!" with a cloud- Ing of her sunay face. Then, suddenly, I bile, to the! hospital, where the poor | Santy had been taken the night be- fore. It was a wondering, curious little Rosie, who followed her friend down the long, cool hall to the ward where the sick Ssaty man lay. Tinildly she walked to the man's de. He saw her. He held grabbed it and in her own "Oh--I'm so glad you're found. Me and Pietro love you so much. I never would have found you If the beautiful lady hadn't--" | But Rosie didn't finish the sentence, ' for Santy hadn't heard a word she was saying. He was staring with deep, strange eyes at the lady, who had drawn nearer the sick man's bed. - "Sis," he whispered. "Bob," she answered. | There Rosie sat with shining eyea and a little heart thumping and listen- ed to the wonderful story of her Santy man and the lady. Banty was pons other than the lady's brother, whom she hadny seen since the y ago, he ran away to sea. the lady? She was the beautiful fairy of the toy-shop. "And did you know all the time Hg Cwied nr "Why. didn't yon go and see her™ "Because | was too poor, sick and proud." £ . Now, of course, like all stories forth, Aeroplanes ready for delivery are on sale in a Broadway (New York) #tore. Candidates who "also ran" acquire a lot of experience. "look "All right, : Hastlly she drew him behind a curtain, and followed. "Where's my girlie? in. clear, BE evan out. sud struggled dn. her mother's arms. "You don" Se sald * 940000004' THE DAILY BRITISH WHIG, SATURDAY, D RRR AOE A Silver Tea Caddy } By SOPHY F. GOULD She was a frall-looking little girl, who had been self-supporting for over three years, since her mother died, and was tired now, as she walked girls like herself. Listlessly, in order for a minute to avoid the onrush of hurrying humans, she paused before a shop window where antiques of all kinds were grouped attractively. © . There was little in the window to interest a mite of a girl earning a pal- try $8 a week, yet of a sudden her eyes, a moment before so tired, light- ed excitedly, and a casual observer might have noticed how exquisitely beautiful they were. The tired iine of her mouth also relaxed, and hope- fully she stepped closer to the plate glass and peered for a long, concen- trated moment at a silver tea caddy of quaint design. After a second's hesitation she opened the door and walked bravely into the little shop. woman who greeted her inquiringly. "How much is it? "The little silver one?" The woman looked her surprise, as she noted the shabby biack coat and much-worn skirt. "You wanted to buy it?" she asked .kindly, for something in the girl's eyes made her know she was in earnest. "It is $25." "Twenty-five dollars!" the girl gasp- ed, and as suddenly as it had come the brightness left her eyes. "Twenty- five," she repeated. "I'm afraid I could never afford that." She grip- her pay envelope firmly and, turn- 4 walked out of the shop. n her tiny room, as e cooked heruneager dinner over the gas and later, when lying wide awake in her narrow bed, she thought of the beautiful tea caddy. Sheé thought until it became a cherished ideal, vested with wonderful scenes among the great people of the world. The following day she neglected her lunch, and hurried to the shop to once more view the wonderful caddy. When she entered the woman greeted her warmly, for the expres- sion in her eyes had proved haunting to the woman all the past night. "Did you really want to buy the caddy?" she asked, as she handed it to the girl, "for if you do--" as she took it reverently in her two hands, "but I can't pay the money all at once." She hesitated. "How much could you pay? The woman suddenly understood the girl's her. terms." "I. have $2 that I have saved, and I think T can spare 50 cents each week. 1 only make $6," she added, apologetically. "Six dollars!" the woman gasped, as the enormity of the girl's project came to her. "You may have it at Jour own terms," she said impulsive h "Oh!" For a moment the girl held it to her breast, then she handed the money without regret to the woman. In the days that followed the woman "Perhaps we could come to || became very fond of the girl, for she came often to gaze with awe upon '| the silver caddy of quaint design, and in the short visits the woman learned ijto know what a difference an ideal can make in a life. In watching {| the girl's love for the thing that kept her, poorer than she need have been the woman found her own life broad- ening. On 'Christmas eve & young man per- sistently tried to buy the caddy, until the woman finally told him the story of its sale. He listened in wonder, and then asked for the name of the girl, who seemed so great a marvel that he Wanted his. mother to see and help The same evening, after the young man had left, the girl made her final payment, and with a wild joy throb ing in her heart carried the tea caddy home, and with it a beautiful bunch =he |ot Holly, 'a, festive touch from the dragged out a individual. came to see you--felt a bit Iy-- Hang it all! Jack, I want a taste of home life, and escape from eternal accounts. No," as the blue eyes of the baby him, "that's a le. show off my wealth, to sitios; but Jost little e herg took conceit out of Hang it, man, take | anne thi print as mean} ide ification AR a ne i lish - Gime. = recordin Maen | worl i kmen, : New friends and old end@fies are . 'Bot above suspicion, She had pifiched hard to save the 50 cents Sach. week. but her reward was t, and worth the happiness the deal had always given yr It was again Christmas eve, and s c dainty woman, v8 that won't work. Poverty is the only luxury We jenn't afford. TI through the street crowded with shop-, "The tea caddy?" she asked of the | late, | "lI must buy it," she Interrupted, | need, and a great kindness came to | - ECEMBER 16, 1916. I Kingston ER HR Kingston Shipbuilding Co., Limited A Ontario | | | | g | { | | ' Zz SS. "Turbinia" in Dry Dock" Shiphuilders & Ship Repairers - Drydock Operators 0 When you read, "a curtain of fire" it means one of two things: Either that the tremendous expendi- ture of munitions saved thousands of our soldiers' lives by protecting them during an advance, ur that the 'enemy attack was smothered before it reached our defences. These "curtains of fire" use up more munitions in an hour than were used in a month during 1915. This may help you to realize the im- portance of munitions to our soldiers. Remember, Every Shell is a Life Saver The Grbltn. BR Abin, "0° Columbus General every le receives a. fresh |not be very apt fo. | fittie whi | not be (answer. Colonel Skinner, 'always down in Texas, now clatms-the honor d out his p tols on a occasion of that sort!" = stb int . oy 1 of thedeed. To a number, who were |