III.

Yesterday Aunt Malissy Jane Williams was in an' took a bite of supper with me. Of course we sat an' talked for a spell, because the kitchen was kinder cosy an' invitin' for conversashun. The cat was a purrin' under the stove hearth, an' the bran coffee was a steamin', an' the toast a brownin' before the bright coals, faster'n we could eat it. That's what I call comfort.

Malissy Jane an' me was mates in school together, an' we've lived in the same place most our lives, so there aint many secrets we two have one from t'other. An' she told me as how at a quiltin she'd been to, they'd got a talkin' about one an' another, as is customary on occasions of that kind, an' what they'd been asayin' about me. Well, it jest made me mad, it was so onjust.

They'd sed that if there was one thing old Granny Graham liked more'n another 'twas to preach, an', as how she thought she knowed

more'n anybody else in all Willercreek, an' was better'n most people jest because her gals had married in town.

Now, I call that slander an' backbitin', because if there's one thing I detest more'n another its a selfopinioned person, an' I'm sure I ain't given to talkin' much, an' I do believe in mindin' my own business. But I know what I know, and I consider it a right down duty for them that knows to tell people when they're all in the wrong. I've had opportunities for enlightenment, an' 'taint fer me ter hide my light under a bushel. I guess I'm too good a Christian for that.

But land! There's some people that'd live in ignorance right along rather'n own up that there's others what knows more'n them. It's jealousy that's a henderin' them, an' right down mean jealousy to go a talkin' that way.

So I guess they'll be satisfied fer once, cause I aint got much to say

them papers as he sips his bran coffee mornin's, well, I'll give up tryin' to please men-that's all.

Mebby now you think I'm calkerlatin' ter give my gals some of them things of ivery an' cellerloid an' cheap plated silver, what's a crowdin' most counters Chrismas time, an' what cost money like sixty an' don't last no time.

An' mebby agin you fancy I'm goin' to give the children trumpets an' whistles an' drums, an' tin carts an' horses an' things?

you

Well, if you do, let me tell agin, "I aint," I aint goin' to waste

money on no such trash.

I fancy there'd be a big hole in the Chrismas cheer in some households what I know of, if the Chrismas box from pa an' ma didn't have certain good things in it, an' pa an' ma a sittin' a top of 'em, too. But no matter about that last statement, it don't rightfully belong here. In the box there is first, a jar of ma's mincemeat which can't be beat, then there's a fat goose or turkey an' a bushel of big fine apples an' lots of other genuine good things from the

farm what ain't t' home in town.

Then I'm goin' to make 'em both some nice large kitchen aprons an' a warm flannel petticoat apiece, an' some dishtowels and iron holders.

Mebby, if the money holds out, I'll buy 'em each a real nice dish to put the apples in jest to please their eyes.

Now as for the youngsters, I figgered out some truths long ago about givin' them presents an' speschally playthings. I guess mebby you'll think I'm funny when I tell you, but I don't care.

Let me illustrate, as they say in books. There's the Jacksons across the way. It's jest amazin' what they spend for playthings fer their children, an' to them what knows better,

it's a pity to see the way they do. They mean to be awful good to their children, they're not a mite stingy, but they ain't got much discernment. that's a fact. Every year Jackson drives to town jest before Chrismas "to fetch Santy Claws," the children say, an' on Chrismas mornin' there's a hullabaloo! my sakes!-with trumpets an' horns an' whistles, enough to drive Mrs. Jackson crazy fer a week or two. There aint a bit of peace or pleasure there fer grown folks the hull of the time. An' the house is jest littered up with cheap playthings of all kinds, tin soldiers an' wagons an' play tools what's no good, an' cheap dolls all fixed and dressed up.

But 't aint more'n a few days an' you'd never know there'd been a Santy Claws near that place, exceptin' fer a lot of broken things what every kid is tired of.

Did you say they'd had their fun with 'em, an' that was all playthings is made fer?

but that was long ago, when I didn't That's jest what I used ter thinkknow anything to speak of.

I learned better, though, I'm thankful to say.

There come into our neighborhood a family from the old country, I think from Germany, jest about the time my gals was little tots.

Well, sir,them wimminfolks pretty soon was the wonder of the town. Why, they could set their hands to most anything, especially in the way of sewin' an fixin', an' the boys, too. was as handy at anything they was put to as if they'd never done anything else all their lives.

So when I hed one of the wimmin at my house adoin' up my mendin'— their mendin' an' darnin' was a wonder-I asked her how they come to have such a fine trainin'.

An' she laughs an' says: "I hef not much training had, dey can all do dings like dis in Chermany, most beople can."

By 'n by, when Chrismas come, I went to their house with some little remembrances, jest to be neighberly. They was havin' a reglar German Chrismas, so they said a big Chrismas tree, with gilded nuts and apples an' goodies, an' a big picture angel on top. The little folks was dancin' around it an' singin' a Chrismas song in their mother tongue. It was real touchin' an' sweet.

Of course, I had to look at the presents. Most of'm had come from the old country, an' they wasn't like them the Jackson children had, I tell

you.

There was picture books of course, all about countries an' animals, an' stories all worth remembrin'. An' I noticed in one book some loose sheets with pictures in 'em all solid black, an' one boy was more tickled over them than anything else.

"Shadow pictures," says he; an' he showed me how some parts was to be cut away with a sharp pocket knife he had, after they was pasted on stiff paper. The fun was to watch the shadows of 'em thrown onto a white sheet by a candle put behind 'em.

One little gal had a doll, an' I thought her mother might have dressed it fer her, seein' she was so quick with her needle, but pritty soon the little one come a runnin' to me with a sewin' box full of bright pieces of cloth.

"They is for my dolly's clothes," she said, "an' tomorrow I'm goin' to sew all day." An' she seemed more pleased with that idee than she was with the dolly. An' her mother says:

"I make neffer dese doll dings, it teaches 'em to sew, you verstaa, to do

it demselfs." An' I began to understand a little.

The boy of ten and the girl of eight got big sheets of stiff paper with pictures painted on 'em, an' at first I couldn't make 'em out at all.

Then they told me that one was to show houses in Jerusalem an' one the stable where our blessed Savior was born, an' the manger too; but they all was in pieces or sections. They was all to be cut out an' pasted together so they would look exactly like the real places. Then there was figgers of shepherds, an' dogs, an' sheep, an' cattle, an' angels to be cut out an' made to stand by puttin' little wooden blocks behind 'em. It wanted to see how it would look made me feel that interested I when 'twas done, an' I wanted to help 'em cut an' paste it together, only I was afraid I'd spoil it.

The girl's paper had doll furniture on it, enough to furnish a hull house, all in sections, an' painted like wood an' brass an' upholstery. It was too cute for anything. That, too, was to be fixed together like the other. It seemed to me the fun in most all of the things was in the makin'.

An' on thinkin' over it a spell, I found that all of them playthings, though they didn't cost much, had some deeper purpose, while they just pretended to amuse. They was all for trainin' an' edjercatin' something. In some toys 'twas the hand an' the eye, in another to steady the nerves, an' the third to train an' exercise the muscles. For this there was skates an' sleds an' balls. Then there was games that made 'em think hard if they wanted to get the fun out of 'em, an' the books an' pictures was full of useful lessons for their little heads an' hearts.

An' then I knew the hull secret of that family, why they was so handy an' could fashion most anything an' how 't come they wasn't a bit rowdy,