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T was the twenty-third day of Decem
ber. “Just one more day till Christ
mas!” the youngsters were exclaiming.
At five o’clock the early winter twilight
had fallen on the hills and homes in the
country, but in town the dusk was
pierced by a thousand glittering lights.
The illuminated streets were thronged
with Christmas buyers, and the shop
I ll*'
windows were brilliant with colored lights.
At the railway station all was stir and bustle —
trains arriving and departing, weary passengers
alighting from incoming cars, fresh travelers, alert
and eager, getting aboard of cars going out. A
man carrying a traveling bag—a wholesome look
ing, broad shouldered young fellow —who had
alighted from a Western train, walked into the
waiting room and stopped in the aisle, looking about
him as if trying to find some one he knew. Presently
his glance alighted on a man who had just entered
from the street. Putting himself before the new
comer the traveler held out his hand, saying, ‘ 1 Harry
West, don’t you know me?”
The young man looked at him and shook his head.
The other smiled, and Harry West exclaimed, “Ah!
now I know you, John Knox. Old fellow, is this
really you? You can’t blame me for not recogniz
ing in such a stalwart citizen the slim, pale chap—
my old school mate —who went West in search of
health and fortune—how long ago? Six or seven
years, isn’t it?”
“Just seven,” returned John Knox. “Every
thing comes around at the end of seven years, you
know, and here I am.”
“Well, I can see you’ve found health, all right.
As to fortune, you look prosperus. Have you
come back a millionaire?”
“Not by a long jump. But I’ve done fairly well.
I Avas plodding on in Colorado making some money
by cultivating sugar beets, when oil was discovered
on a portion of my homestead land, and I sold out
for a good pa-ice and started back to see how the
old town was getting on.”
“Hope you’ll settle down with us here. Are you
married?”
“No.”
“Neither is your old flame, Miss Kingsley. You
haven’t forgotten Marian?”
“No, surely not. We agreed not to correspond,
but I’ve heard of her occasionally through my sis
ter’s letters.”
“Then you have doubtless heard the latest news
about her —that she is soon to be married to a rich
man, who came here from Cuba —'Captain Ligon.
He was an officer in the Spanish-American war, and
after peace was declared he settled in Havana —held
some official position there and speculated in real
estate. The climate didn’t suit him, and he came
to the States. He likes our town, and he has taken
large stock in the new cotton mills on the outskirts.
Rumor sgys he will many Marian Kingsley, lift
that big mortgage on the place that’s been wonying
the old Colonel, and settle duwn in the Kingsley
home with his bride. Your sister has no doubt
written you all this.”
“No,” said young Kn lV it is new to me.”
His face had clouded. Toe joyous light had gone
ou, of his frank blue eyes.
“Well, it doesn’t wony you, I imagine. You’ve
no doubt got over your boyish fancy for little Ma
rian—the school girl —long ago. She is prettier,
though, than ever—a stately, graceful young woman,
with a grand voice. By the way, she sings this
evening at an entertainment for the benefit of the
poor of the town. The handsome Senor —sings
THE CAPTAIN'S SURPRISE
The Story of a Unique Christmas Gift
By Nary Z. Bryan
The Golden Age for December 24, 1908.
also; he has a fine baritone. Won’t you go to hear
them? I’ll call around for you about seven. You
will be at your sister’s, I suppose?”
“Yes; and I’ll be glad to have you call, but I
won’t go out this evening. The close cars have
given me a headache.”
West gave his friend a covert glance. Were the
close cars responsible for the headache —or was it
the news of Marian Kingsley’s engagement? Did
he still care for her —after all these years?
Notwithstanding his decision not to go to the con
cert, John Knox was there —and he saw and heard
his boyhood sweetheart, whose image had remained
with him during the years of absence and hard work
that had intervened since their separation. They
had been plighted lovers, but Marian was loyal to
CHRISTMAS GIFTS
By T. H. JTarr.
“Thou hast with thoughtfulness prepared
Thy gifts for friend and kin;
Yea, thou hast hoped by deeds of love
Thine enemy to win.
“For Me, alone, of all thy friends,
No ready gift I see.
On this My Birth-day, hast thou nought,
Child of My love, for Me?
“Thy board is spread with dainty dish,
Thy friends will welcome be;
But hast thou kept among them all,
A place—a seat —for Me?
“Bright gifts and offerings gleam upon
The taper-lighted tree: —
But what hast thou upon it hung
In pure, true love, for Me?
“What broken spirit hast thou healed?
What tear of sorrow dried?
What stranger-heart hast thou rejoiced?
What need hast thou supplied?”
*****
0 blessed Christ-Child, on this day
First be our gifts to Thee
And second in our hearts and thoughts
Let friends and kindred be.
On every tree weighed down with gifts
That tenderest memories wake,
Oh, may the choicest and the best
Be hung for Thy dear sake!
And be Thou at each festive board,
Most honored guest today;
And by each happy hearth-stone may
Thy sacred Presence stay!
her old father, -whose only remaining stay she was,
and John was sensible enough to feel there was
truth in the Colonel’s protest against his daughter’s
binding herself to marry her young lover. “You
are poor, my boy,” he said, “and you are far from
strong. Marian has been brought up delicately, but
I will have but little money to give her, The heavy
■mortgage on my place eats up everything. You’ll
have a long uphill pull as a young lawyer to
gain a in this town. But you are young,
and tin \is wide. There are all sorts of fields
to reap. somewhere else and find the kind of
work that \,dl build up your health. When you
have established yourself, come back if you still
love my girl, and I’ll not stand in the way of your
happiness and hers. I don’t know a man I’d rather
give her to, so far as heart and head are con
cerned.”
So John went to seek pastures new, and found
these in Colorado, where he made and saved money
slowly through farming and cattle raising on a
small scale, until the discovery of oil on his land
enabled him to sell his farm for a sum which he
hoped might justify him in claiming Marian as his
wife.
He had hastened to her, only to find that she was
soon to wed another man. He determined to avoid
seeing her, and to go away as soon as he could with
out wounding his sister’s feelings. But the longing
to see his old love was too strong to be resisted—•
and there he was, seated at the back of the well
filled, brightly lighted auditorium, his eyes fixed on
the stage where she was to appear.
He saw a number of familiar faces around him,
but no one seemed to recognize him. Nor would
Marian, he thought, but she knew him the instant
her eyes, glancing around the room as she sang,
rested on his grave, manly face. Her heart gave
one great bound, and her voice broke. Captain
Ligon, who was singing w r ith her, looked at her ap
prehensively, but she quickly controlled herself and
finished her song.
John sat pale and still. The lingering hope he
cherished took flight. This fair, queenly woman,
with her beautiful gift of song, seemed out of his
sphere, belonging rather to that of the handsome,
graceful man in a faultless dress suit, whose voice
accorded so well with hers. He slipped out of the
hall quietly as soon as the entertainment was over,
but he could not help lingering outside, apart from
the crowd, to get a last glimpse of the woman he
had lost.
Meantime Marian, attended by Captain Ligon,
was standing outside, looking everywhere for him.
Her glance, wandering over the crowd, was attracted
by a woman, who stood beside a lamp post holding
a little boy by the hand, and seeming to search the
face of every one who passed. Her own face Ma
rian could not see; it was turned away and partly
concealed by a shawl worn over the head. The night
was cold, and Marian, shivering in her furs, noted
pityingly the thinness of the shawl and the bare
hands of the mother and child. For whom was she
looking out there in the street late in the winter
night?
Marian’s escort seemed strangely excited. He
exclaimed against the delay caused by the driver
having taken the horses for a trot around the square
to warm them up. At length the carriage appeared,
and he hurried Marian across the sidewalk to reach
it. As they were passing the lamp post, the woman
suddenly sprang before him, crying, “Oh, Pedro!
Is it you at last!” With a fierce scowl and a mut
tered imprecation, he shook off her grasp on his
arm. “I am not Pedro,” he said harshly. Pushing
her aside he strode on, drawing Marian with him.
“Fine police service,” he exclaimed, “to allow a
crazy or drunken woman to annoy people on the
streets!”
“I do not think she is drunk or crazy,” returned
Marian. “She took you to be some one she was
searching for! Such a look of dismay and disap
pointment as came into her face when you rebuked
her so harshly.”
He made no response.
They had reached the carriage when Marian, turn
ing her head, saw the woman standing as if she were
stunned, looking at them. Giving way to a sudden
(Continued on Page 7.)
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