The Norman Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 26, No. 16, Ed. 1 Thursday, December 24, 1914 Page: 2 of 10
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THE NORMAN TRANSCRIPT
ames
y
A Christmas Stori
^JamesWhitcombRileij
Copyright by Bobbs Merrill Co-
Installment Three.
"Why, Jamesy," said I, as 1 vaguely
comprehended the real drift of his
thought, "the package Is for you, and
If you won't open it, 1 will," and as I
spoke I began unfolding it. "Here,"
said "is a pair of gloves a little girl
about your size told me to give to you,
because 1 was telling her about you,
over where 1 live, and it's 'a clear
case,'" and I luughed lightly to myself
as I noticcd a slow flush creeping to
his face. "And here," said I, "is a
bang up pair of good old-fashioned
socks, and, if they'll lit you, there's an
old woman that wears specs and a
mole on her nose, told me to tell you,
for her, that she knit them for your
Christmas present, and If you don't
The boy nodded dubiously. "Hon-
est—must 1 do all that, sure enough?"
"Will you?" said 1; "that's what I
want to know;" and 1 pushed back
the dusky lit'le face and looked into
the bewildered eyes.
"Solid?" he queried, gravely.
"Solid," I repeated, handing him
the box. "Will you come?"
"W'y, 'course 1 will, on'y 1 was jist
a thinkin'—"
"Just thinking what?" said 1, as
the little fellow paused abruptly and
shook the box suspiciously at his
ear. "Just thinking what?" I repeat-
ed; "for I must go now; good-by.—
Just thinking what?"
"Oh, nothin'," said the boy, backing
off and staring at me in a phase of
wonder akin to awe.—"Nothin", on'y I
wear them she'll never forgive you. , wua jist a-thinkin that you was a lit-
And here," 1 continued, "is a cap. as
fuzzy as a woolly-worm, and as warm
a cap, 1 reckon, as you ever stood on
your head In; It's a cheap cap, but I
bought it with my own money, and
money that I worked mighty hard to
get, because I ain't rich; now, if 1 was
rich, I'd buy you a plug; but I've got
an idea that this little, old, woolly cap,
with earbobs to it, and a snapper to go
under your chin, don't you see, won't
be a bad cap to knock around in, such
weather as this. What do you say,
now! Try her on once," and as 1 spoke
1 turned to place it on his bead.
"Ooinh-ooh!" ho negatively mur-
mured, putting out his hand, his closed
lips quivering—the little frowzy head
drooping forward, and the ragged shoes
shuffling on the floor.
"Come," said I, my own voice grow-
ing curiously changed; "won't you take
these presents? They are yours; you
must accept them, Jamesy, not because
they're worth so very much, or be-
cause they're very tine," 1 continued,
bending down and folding up the par-
cel, "but because, you know, I want
you to, and—and—you must take
them; you must!" and as 1 concluded
1 thrust the tightly folded parcel be-
neath his arm, and pressed the little
tattered elbow firmly over it.
"There you are," Baid I. "Freeze on
to It, and we'll skip off here at the
avenue. Come."
1 hardly dared to look behind me till
I found myself upon the street, but as 1
threw an eager glance over my shoul-
der I saw the little fellow following,
not bounding joyfully, but with a
solemn step, the little parcel hugged
closely to his side, and his eyes beut
soberly upon the frozen ground.
"And how's Sis by this time?" I
asked cheerily, flinging the question
backward, and walking on more
briskly.
" Tlout the same," said the boy,
brightening a little, and skipping into
a livelier pace.
"About the same, eh? and how's
that?" I asked.
"Oh, she can't git around much like
she used to, you know; but she's
a-gittin' better all the time. She set
up mighty nigh all day ylsterday;" and
as the boy spoke the eyes lifted with
the old flash, and the little frowzy
head tossed with the old defiance
"Why, she not down sick?" said I,
> sudden ache of sorrow smiting me.
"Yes," replied the boy, "she's been
bad a long time. You see," he broke
in by way of explanation, "she didn't
have no shoes ner nothin' when winter
come, and kind o' took cold, you know,
and that give her the whoopin' cough
so'b she couldn't git around much. You
list ort to see her now! Oh, she's
a-gittin' all right now, you can bet!
and she said ylsterday she'd be plum
well Christmas, and that's on'y tomor-
ry. Guess not!" and as the little fel-
low concluded this exultant speech, he
circled rouud me, and then shot for-
ward like a rocket.
"HI! Jamesy!" I called after him,
pausing at a stairway and stepping
tn the door.
The little fellow joined me In an
instant. "Want that shine now?" he
inquired with panting eagerness.
"Not now, Jamesy," said I, "for I'm
going to be quite busy for a while.
This is my stopping-place here—the
second door on the right, upstairs, re-
member—and I work there when I'm
in the city, and I sometimes Bleep
there, when I work lute. And now I
want to ask a very special favor of
you," I continued, taking a little
sealed packet from my pocket: "here's
• little box that you're to take to Sis,
with my compliments—the compli-
ments of the season, you understand
-—and tell her I sent it, with particu-
lar directions that she shouldn't break
it open till Christmas morning—not
till Christmas morning, understand!
Then you tell her that I would like
▼ery much to come and see her, and
If she sayB all right—and yo" must
give me a good 'send-off,' and she'll
say all right if 'Jamesy' says all right
—then come back here, Bay two hours
from njw, or three hours, or tonight,
anyway, and we'll go dowa and see
81s together—what do you say?"
tie the curiousost rooster I ever see,
Three hours later, as I sat alone,
he came in upon me timidly to say he
had not been home yet, having "run
acrost the old man jist a-bilin', and
had to git him corralled 'fore he
dropped down som'er's In the snow;
but I'm a-gittin' 'long bully with him
now," he added with a deep sigh of
relief, "'cause he's so full he'll haf to
let go purty soon. Say you'll be
here?"
I nodded silently, and he was gone.
The merry peals of laughter rang
up from the streets like mockery. The
jingling of bells, the clatter and con-
fusion of the swarming thoroughfares,
flung up to me not one glad murmur
of delight; the faint and far-off blar-
ing of a dreamy waltz, blown breeze-
like over the drowsy ear of night, had
sounded sweeter to me had 1 stood
amidst the band, with every bellow-
ing horn about my ears, and the drums
and clashing cymbals howling mad.
I couldn't work, I couldn't read, I
couldn't rest; I could only pace about.
1 heard the clock strike ten, and
strike it hard; I heard It strike eleven,
viciously; and twelve it held out at
arm's length, and struck It full be-
tween the eyes, and let It drop—stone
dead. O I saw the blood ooze from
Its ears, and saw the white foam
freeze upon its lips! I was alone—
alone!
It was three o'clock before the boy
returned.
"Been a long while," he began, "but
I had a fearful time with the old man,
and he went on so when I did git him
in I was 'most afeard to leave him;
but he kind o' went to sleep at last,
and Molly she come over to see how
Sis was a-glttln'; and Sis said she'd
like to see you if you'd come now, you
know, while they ain't no racket goin'
on."
"Come, then," said I, buttoning my
coat closely at the throat, "I am
ready;" and a moment later we had
stepped Into the frosty night. We
moved along In silence, the little fel-
low half running, half sliding along
the frozen pavement in the lead; and
1 noted, with a pleasurable thrill, that
he had donned the little fuzzy cap and
mittens, and from time to time was
flinging, as he ran, admiring glances
at his shadow on the snow.
Our way veered but a little from
the very center of the city, but led
mainly along through narrow streets
and alleyways, where the .rear ends
of massive business blocks had dwin-
dled down to insignificant proportions
to leer grimly at us as we passed lit-
tle grated windows and low, scowling
doors. Occasionally we passed a
clump of empty boxes, barrels, and
such debris and merchandise as had
been crowded pell-mell from some In-
ner storage by their newer and more
dignified companions; and now and
then wc passed an empty bus, bulging
up in the darkness liko a behemoth
of the olden times; or, jutting from
still narrower passages, the sloping
ends of drays and carts innumerable.
And along even as forbidding a defile
as this we groped until we came upon
a low, square brick building that
might have served at one time as a
wash-house, or, less probably, perhaps,
a dairy. There was but one window
in the front, and that but little larger
than an ordinary pane of glass. In
the sides, however, and hig'ier up,
was a row of gratings, evidently de-
signed more to serve as ventilation
than as openings for light. There was
but one opening, an upright doorway,
half above ground, half below, with
little narrow sidesteps leadi<- ; down
to it. A light shone dimly from the
little window, and as the boy mo-
tioned me to pause and listen, a sound
of female voices talking in under-
tones was audible, mingled with a
sqund like that of someone snoring
heavily.
"Hear the old man a-gittin' in his
work?" whispered the boy.
I nodded. "He's asleep?"
"You bet he's asleep!" said the boy,
still in a whisper; "and he'll Jist
about stay with it thataway fer five
hours, anyhow. What time you got
now, cap?"
"A quarter now till four," I replied,
peering at my watch.
"W'y. it's Christmas, then!" he
cried in muffled rapture of delight;
but abruptly checking his emotion,
he beckoned me a little farther from
the door, and spoke in a confidential
whisper.
"Cap. look here, now; 'fore we go In
I want you to promise me one thing
—'cause you can fix it and she'll never
drop! Now, here, I want to put up a
Job on Sis, you understand!"
"What!" I exclaimed, starting back
and staring at the boy in amazement.
"Put up a job on Sis?"
"Oh, look here, now, cap; you ain't
a-goin' back on a feller like that!"
broke In the little fellow, in a min-
gled tone of pleading and reproof;
"and if you don't help a feller I'll haf
to wait till broad daylight, 'cause we
ain't got no clock."
"No clock!" I repeated with In-
creased bewilderment.
"Oh, come, cap, what do you say?
It ain't no lie, you know; all you got
to doll be to jist tell Sis it's Christ-
mas—as though you didn't want me
to hear, you know; and then she'll
git my 'Christmas gift!' first, you
know;—and, oh, lordy! won't she
think she's played it fine!" And as
I slowly comprehended the meaning
of the little fellow's plot I nodded my
willingness to assist in "putting up
the job."
"Now, hold on a secono!" continued
the little fellow, in the wildest glee,
darting through an opening in a high
board fence a dozen steps away, and
in an instant reappearing with a bulky
parcel, which, as he neared me, I dis-
covered was a paper flour sack half
filled, the other half lapped down and
fastened with a large twine string.
"Now this sti ff," he went on excited-
ly, "you must juggle in without Sis
seein' it—here, shove it under your
'ben,' here—there—that's business!
Now when you go in, you're to set
down with the other side to'rds the
bed, you see, and when Sis hollers
Christmas gift,' you know, you jist
kind o' let it slide down to the floor
like, and I'll nail it slick enough—
•LEAN DOWN HERE.
SAID THE GIRL
though I'll p'tend, you know, It ain't
Christmas yet, and look sold out, anjl
say it wasn't fair fer you to tell her,
and all that; and then I'll open up
suddent-like, and if you don't see old
Sis bug out them eyes of hern I don't
want a cent!" And as the gleeful boy
concluded this speech, he put his
hands over his mouth and dragged
me down the little, narrow steps.
"Here's that feller come to see you.
Sis," he announced abruptly, opening
the door and peering in. "Come ou,"
lie said, turning to me. I followed,
closing the door, and looking curious-
ly around. A squabby, red-faced
woman, sitting on the edge of a low
bed, leered upon me, but with no
salutation. An old cook-stove, propped
up with bricks, stood back against the
wall directly opposite, and through
the warped and broken doors in front
sent out a dismal suggestion of the
fire that burned within. At the side
of this, prone upon the floor, lay the
wretched figure of a man, evidently
in the deepest stage of drunkenness,
and thrown loosely over him was an
old tattered piece of carpet and a lit-
tle checkered shawl.
There was no furniture to speak of;
one chair—and that was serving as a
stand—stood near the bed, a high
hump-shouldered bottle sitting on It, a
fruit-can full of water, and a little dltn
and smoky lamp that glared sulkily.
"Jamesy, can't you git the man a
cheer er Bomepin'?" queried a thin
voice from the bed; at which the red-
faced woman rose reluctantly wlih
the rather sullen words: "He can sit
here, I reckon." while the boy looked
at me significantly and took up a po-
sition near the "stand."
"So this is Sis?" 1 said, with rever-
ence.
The little haggard face I bent above
was beautiful. The eyes were dark
and tender—very tender, and though
deeply sunken were most childish in
expression and star-pure anil lumin-
ous. She reached a wasted little ha III1
out to me, saying simply: "It was
mighty good in you to give them
things to Jamesy, and eud me that
mo—thdt—that little box. you know—
ot'y I guess 1—I won't need It." As
she spoke a jmlle of perfect sweet-
ness rested on the face, and the hand
within ray own nestled in dovelike
peace.
The boy bent over the white face
from behind and whispered something
in her ear, trailing the little laughing
lips across her brow as he looked up.
"Not now, Jamesy; wait a while."
"Ah!" said I, shaking my head with
feigned merriment, "don't you two go
to plotting about me!"
"Oh, hello, no, cap?" exclaimed the
boy, assuringly. "I was on'y jist a-
tellln' bIs to ast you If she mightn't
open that box now—honest! And you
jist ask her if you don't believe me—
I won't listen." And the little fellow
gave m« a look of the most penetra-
tive suggestiveness; and when a mo-
ment later the glad words, "Christmas
gift! Jamesy," rang out quaveringly
in the thin voice, the little fellow
snatched the sack up, in a paroxysm
of delight, and Nefore the girl had
time to lift the long dark lashes once
upon his merry face, he had emptied
its contents out tumultuously upon
the bed.
"You got It on to me, sis!" cried •
the little fellow, dancing wildly round j
the room; "got it on to me this time! |
but I'm game, don't you fergit, and
don't put up notliin' snide! Howil
chein shoes there ketch you? and
how's this fer a cloak?—is them
enough beads to suit you? And how's
this fer a hat—feather and all? And
how's this fer a dress—made and
ever'thlng? and I'd 'a' got a corsik
with it if he'd on'y had any little
tjiough. You won't look fly ner
Lothin' when you throw all that style
on you in the morning!—Guess not!"
And the delighted boy went off upon
another wild excursion round the
room.
Even slatternly Molly looked up
with a faint show of interest that
might have grown into enthusiasm,
and the sodden lump of flesh on the
floor stirred and moaned uneasiy, his
drunken slumber disturbed by Ihe
noisy joy of Jamesy. "Sis" gasped a
bit and lovingly her thin hand hovered
over the things that should have been
precious to girl or woman. She lifted
the shoes, stroked the cloak and dress,
and there was just the suspicion of a
sob in her throat as she fondled the
hat, "feather and all." Then she turned
toward me.
"Lean down here," said the girl, a
great light in her eyes and the other
slender hand sliding from beneath
the covering. "Here la the box you
sent me, and I've opened it—it wasn't
right you know, but somepin' kind o'
said to open it 'fore morning—and—
and I opened it." And the eyes
seemed asking my forgiveness, yet
were filled with great bewilderment.
"You see," she went on, the thin voice
falling in a fainter tone, "I knowed
that money in the box—that is, the
bills—I knowed them bills cause one
of 'em had a lnkspot on it, and the
other ones had been pinned with it—
they wasn't pinned together when you
sent 'em, but the holes was in where
they had been pinned, and they was
all pinned together when Jamesy had
'em—'cause Jamesy used to have
them very bills—he didn't think I
knowed—but onc't when he was
asleep, and father was a-goin' through
his clothes, I happened to find 'em in
his coat 'fore he did; and I counted
'em, and hid 'em back ag'in, and
father didn't find 'em, and Jamesy
never knowed it. I never said noth-
in', 'cause somepin' kind o' said to
me it was all right, and somepin' kind
o' said I'd git all these things here,
too—on'y I won't need 'em, ner the
money, nor nothin'. How did you got
the money? That's all!"
The boy had by this time ap-
proached the bed, and was gazing cu-
riously upon the solemn little face.
"What's the matter with you, Sis?"
he asked in wonderment; "ain't you
glad?"
"I'm mighty glad, Jamesy," she
said, the little, thin hands reaching
for his own. "Guess I'm too glad,
'cause I can't do nothin' on'y jist feel
glad; and somepin' kind o' says that
that's the gladdest glad in all the
world. Jamesy!"
"Oh, pshaw, Sis! Why don't you
tell a feller what's the matter?" said
the boy, uneasily.
The white hands linked more close-
ly with (the brown, and the pure face
lifted to the grimy one till they were
blent together in a kiss.
"Be good to father, fer you know
he used to be so good to us."
"O Sis! Sis!"
"Molly!"
The squabby, red-faced woman
threw herself upon her knees and
kissed the thin hands wildly and with
sobs.
"Molly, somepin' kind o' says that
you must dress me in the morning—
but I won't need the hat, and you
must take It home for Nannie— Don't
cry so loud; you'll wake father."
I bent my head down above the
frowzy one and moaned—moaned.
"And you. sir," went on the failing
voice, reaching for my hanl, "you—
you must take this money back—you
must take it back, fer 1 don't need it.
You must take It back and—and—
give it—give it to the poor." And
even with the utterance upon the gra-
cious lips the glad soul leaped and
fluttered through the open gates.
THE END.
TUCKED away in the very heart
of central Europe, where the j
vast armies of half a dozen na-
tions are fighting the biggest
war in history, is one of the
smallest and strangest territories in
the world, known officially as the Neu-
tral Territory of Moresnet. An encir-
cling ridge of high mountains verita-
bly buries it from neighboring civili-
zation and culture and leaves It in a
little world of its own. But it is not
so strange. It is the fact that, for
nearly a century, the inhabitants have
never experienced the feeling of being
under the rule of an emperor, king or
president. They are independent, gov-
erned by no one, at liberty to do as
they please, for, after the Vienna con-
gress of 1815 Moresnet was granted
an independent constitution, guaran-
teed by Prussia and Belgium. Only
1% square miles in extent Its land
worth, perhaps, is greater per square
foot than that of any other sovereign
state. In the interior is one of the
richest zinc mines in the world, which
years of active working have failed to
exhaust.
A large percentage of the inhabi-
tants of the territory are miners. Few
venture beyond the confines of the
quiet little valley, though the bustling
commercial city of Aix-la-Chapelle is
but five miles away to the northeast,
and Liege lies only 28 miles westward.
shown an inclination to depart from
her long policy of noninterference,
and has harried Moresnet with two
main objectives. She has sought to
compel the people of the little terri-
tory to declare their desire to become
German subjects, and has also striven
to drive the government of Belgium
into surrendering its rights. Far be-
yond any expectations, Moresnet citi-
zens have stanchly upheld their ind«
pendence, maintaining that the com-
pacts between Prussia and Belgium
should never be severed. Belgium
has also remained stolid, even refus-
ing to relinquish her claims tn ex-
change for a substantial indemnity.
There have even been some in Bel-
gium whose doctrine it waa to sur-
render Moresnet, with the natural ex-
pectation that Germany would, by
reason of the concession, support Bel-
gium in more important matters. A
favorable treaty was not thought un-
likely.
In 1905 German papers suddenly de-
clared that both Moresnet and Bel-
gium were willing Germany should
assume control of the little territory.
It was even intimated that Belgium
was willing to sell her rights. But
tho declarations were baseless.
Two years later tho people of Mores-
net answered Germany in a more ma-
terial way. A plebiscite, somewhat
in the form of a straw vote, was held,
HOILAM)
IV^J
&Ltvsr:«c\0 .
v 7^
/ i
V" r \
tNRAefl
Map of Mor&snet
Another Point of View.
"So you are not to be married?"
"No. He says he lias changed his
mind."
"What's lis excuse?"
"The war."
"And you have no witnesses nor
love letters?"
"No."
"Well, isn't was just what they say
it is?"—Cleveland Plain Dealer.
The population has grown since 1815 j
from 250 to more than 3,000.
How It Is Governed.
The local government of Moresnet
during its hundred years of life is in-
teresting. When Belgium and Prussia
each said "hands off" in 1815, each
country secretly intended to keep one
eye on the territory. This policy was
carried out until 1841. Under the ar-
rangement the neutral state was sub-
ject to a joint government by both na-
tions. In 1841 Moresnet received an
administration of its own. A burgo-
master, or mayor, and a council of ten
members was the form of rule se-
lected.
Since 1841 the state has worked out
Its own affairs. Nominally the burgo-
master is appointed alternately by
Belgium and Prussia, but in reality
and practice the Moresnetians choose
their own executive. The council
members obtain their offices at a vil-
lage election every year.
The inhabitants so Inclined decide
Individually whether they will per-
form military duty for Prussia or for
Belgium, and the result has been a
nearly even division, with Belgium
getting a shade of advantage. It is
Interesting to speculate just how many
fathers and sons, brothers and cousins
are now fighting against each other,
and how much consternation must
have been caused in Moresnet by the
German declaration of war on Bel-
gium.
The inhabitants also decide whether
they will accept the jurisdiction of
Prussian or of Belgian courts. Ab a
result, the wrongdoers of Moresnet
choose In such a way as to suffer as
lightly as possible.
Moresnet boasts of no customs or
teriffs. Belgian and German goods
can go in or out of the territory with-
out restriction. However, to prevent
goods of one nation from being stored
In Moresnet for a couple of days and
then sent over the other boundary
freed from duty, both countries keep
customs officials on the watch.
Land taxes are also divided between
Belgium and Prussia.
Within the last 15 years Prussia has
and nine-tenths of the voting popula-
tion were for annexation to Bel-
glum in case annexation to one or
the other country was demanded.
With the exception of the burgomas-
ter, a German, the whole communal
council voted with the majority.
Such a state of affairs before the
present war leads to varied specula-
tion as to the ultimate disposal of the
property when peace is declared.
No Coinage and No Police.
Moresnet has no distinctive coins or
legal tender. The specie of Germany
and Belgium is freely exchangeable.
There are no police to patrol Mores-
net, for there are no such menaces as
burglars or other criminals. A small
number of town guards are named
each year by the society, but their du-
ties are never strenuous.
The town has a polyglot population
of German, Flemish, Dutch and Bel-
gian families, but the modern educa-
tional system instituted several years
ago has since tended to weld the peo-
ple into either Germans or Belgians.
Because of this mixed population.
Moresnet has come to have several
names. Although these designations
do not mean the same in the several
languages, the French and Belgians
generally refer to the place as Mores-
net, the Germans call It Altenberg,
while the Flemish and Dutch people
dub it Kelmis or Kalmis.
Precedents Here and There.
English mental processes found an
illustration In the apology ex-Premier
Balfour felt called upon to make at
the lord mayor's banquet in London
Monday night, when he proposed a
toast to the allies. It was against pre-
cedent, he said, but he justified it on
the ground that "we are living i
times without precedent." An Ameri-
can would think no apology necessary
for such a toast at such a time. In
fact, It would have been taken as a
matter of course, and its omission
would have caused surprise. But It
had never been done before at a Loa-
don banquet, and because it was with-
out precedent it needed explanation
and apology.—Hartford Courant,
I
A
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Burke, J. J. The Norman Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 26, No. 16, Ed. 1 Thursday, December 24, 1914, newspaper, December 24, 1914; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc139204/m1/2/: accessed March 19, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.