# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1901_S47 # Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration) ES sa OT SS eZ ‘The Lutheran Pioneer. 47 A Christmas Story. It was the evening before Christmas and the streets of a certain city were crowded with pedestrians hurrying this and that direction, all unmindful of the sharp December winds that would have driven almost everybody in- doors on almost any other evening of the| year, or of the sleet and snow that flew madly about, almost blinding those whose faces were exposed. ‘You are not going out on such an evening as this?’’ said Martha, the faithful house- keeper of the well-known manufacturer J. P. Wells, as her master donned his coat and reached for his hat and cane. “Certainly; it is Christmas eve, you know.’’ "Yes, I know; but it is dreadful weather, Papa Wells,’’ said the former. “T couldn’t sleep, Martha, if I would not go out to-night,’’ saying which he went out and entered the carriage which awaited him. For years Mr. Wells had made a trip on Christmas eve to the homes of some deserving poor people of whom he had knowledge, in com- pany with his driver, who, having loaded the carriage according to in- structions through the day, attended also to the unloading in the evening, under Mr. Wells’ directions. — Inasmall frame house in a remote part of the city from Mr. Wells’ fashionable home, lived Jerry Ames and his family. The oldest son, John, was, since the illness of his father, the chief support of the household of seven. John was but eighteen years old, but his integrity and energy had won for him the confidence and esteem of his fore- man in the J. P. Wells shops, and the manufacturer himself had not failed to notice the lad, and to en- courage his promotion from time to time. Buta slight accident had befallen John, and he was compelled -to ‘‘lay off” just when his family needed his wages the worst. ‘A slim Christmas this year, Mary,’’ said Mr. Ames, as his wife was trying her best to fix up some old, forgotten toys for the chil- dren, and some more useful articles for John and Catherine, the oldest daughter. “Never mind, papa; it will be better next year,” said Mrs, Ames, trying to seem in good spirits. “He won’t trust us,’’ said Catherine, just entering the room. She had been down at the grocery asking for a supply of ecatables on time, but had been told that they kept no book account, and must insist on getting cash. “Very well; we can make out a day or two yet,’’ said the mother, trying to conceal her Sore disappointment. ‘What! won’t trust us?’’? exclaimed John {from the other room. him, isn’t it? What in the world will we do, hobbled out on his crutches to the kitchen. “O, we will get through,’’ said Mrs. Ames. ‘What have you to eat in the house?"’ “Not a great variety, I must confess, John, but we can have a happy Christmas anyway.”’ | the lad peevishly. chief thing about a real Christmas. Christmas in the Home. the Lord is withholding the good things from us this year so that we will think more of the greatest of all good things, our Lord Jesus, and the salvation He offers us.’” “Yes; I think you have the right idea, Mary,” said Mr. Ames, thoughtfully. “Chil- dren, let us think more of the wants of our souls.” ‘All were reflecting on Mrs. Ames’ sensible words when footsteps were heard, followed by aloud knocking. Opening the door Catherine found a box of eatables and useful articles, and sundry toys, and a card with the words: ‘“The Christ Child brings you a happy Christmas.” ‘What does it all mean?” said all four, as they gazed upon the pile of presents. ‘Well, the Lord Jesus sent us these good ‘Well, that’s nice of | ‘Well, itisn’t so bad as that; but let us not A Christmas Present for Mother. | He was an odd-looking little figure as he |mother?”’ he asked with much emotion, as he|}came merrily whistling down the street the morning after the big snow. His nose was red, his hands were bare, his feet were in shoes several times too large, and his hat was held in place by a roll of paper under the sweat- | band; but he piped away like a steam whistle, ‘‘Christmas with nothing to eat!’’ exclaimed} and carried the big snow shovel much as a marching soldier carries his rifle. “How much?’ from an imposing-looking forget that eating alld making merry is not the| man, who was asked if he wanted his walks Perhaps | cleaned. “Ten cents.” “A nickel’s enough.”’ “It would be if I couldn’t do no better; but I’ve got to do the best Ican, and business is rushing. Good morning,’’ and the merry whistle filled the air as the boy started away. “Go ahead and clean ’em!’? shouted the man, whose admiration had been aroused. ‘‘Just see that little rascal make the snow fly!’’ he laughed to his wife, who stood at the window with him. ‘Why, he’s a regular snow- plow; and he does it well, too.” ‘What a little mite! and how comical! I wonder if he’s hungry ?”” She called him in as soon as he had finished, but he would not take time for more than a cup of coffee. ‘Too busy,”’ he said. “What are you going to do with the money?’’ asked the man, as he insisted on settling at twenty-five cents. “I’m going to get mother a shawl for Christmas. She’s wearing one that you can see through, and it ain’t right.’” On he went, with glowing cheeks, and his cheery whistle. But they had his name and address. It was the wife who took a shawl to the mother; and it was the husband who installed the sturdy little snow shoveler as office boy in a. bright new uniform, and with permission to whistle when he felt like it. _ +P oo Our Preachers. When Luther saw the cattle in the pasture, he said, ‘‘There are our preachers, the milk carriers, the butter carriers, the cheese car- riers, the wool carriers, who daily preach to us faith in God, that we shall trust Him as our Father, who cares for us and will nourish us.’” —s caer oe Tue subject and object of the Holy Scrip- things as an evidence of His love,’ said|tures is to commend to us the chief work of Mrs. Ames. —Selected. God, that is, faith in Him. —Zuther.