Judge — December 7, 1907 — page 35: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Gia: said Little Peleg, “did you hang up your stocking for Christmas when you was a boy, like I do? The Old Settler pondered a mo- ment, then he said, “Yes, sonny, [ did. An’ I reco- member that I always brung in the wood o' nights without wunst bein’ told, an’ wouldn’t hear o’ setch a thing as lettin’ my poor ol’ gran’pop grease his own boots, an’ couldn't hardly wait to go git terbacker fer him without him a-askin’ me to.” There was a twinkle in the Old Settler's eye, and Little Peleg wiggled on his chair, with an effort to look unconscious, for he had recently developed an unusual activity in the matter of household chores, and a OLD SETTLER GIVES LITTLE PELEG A LESSON hang up my stockin’ an’ go off to bed, so as not to keep Sandy Claws waitin’, “«Lain't goin’ to hang up no stockin' !" I says. «I'm countin’ on an’ ‘spectin’ somethin’ that he can’t git into no stockin’ !' I says, an my papan’ mammy stared at me an’ couldn't speak, as I toddled off to bed without hangin’ up my stockin’, “I got up ‘arly Chris'mas mornin’, sonny, an’ toddled to the big fireplace chimley to see if I had got what I was countin’ on an’ ‘spectin’, Both o° my stockin’s hung by the chimley jam’, an’ they was full ‘most to bustin’, but what I was countin’ on an’ ‘spectin’ wa'n't there. An’ what do you think it was that I had sct my mind on so? Agun, Peleg! A giniwine, hammer-an'-trigger, stub-an'-twist bar gun ! “Seems to me nobody never could ‘a’ been so disapp'inted as I My stockin's was rammed and jammed full o' apples an’ crullers I sot was, an’ gingerbread, enough to fill a sap pail, but I wanted a gun. similar consideration for his grand- father’s comfort, and quick anticipation of his wants. But he managed to say, by and by, “ Did you, grand pop ?” “ Yes, sonny,” replied the Old Set- tler. ‘An’ sence you put me in mind o’ setch things, don’t never fergit that Sandy Claws always knows best, so it you don’t git in your stockin’ jest what you was countin’ on an’ ‘spectin’, don't set up an’ pout an’ grumble an’ mope, but recomember that Sandy Claws knows best, an’ cheer up an’ be merry as crickets.” This was a reflection that did not seem to find a reciprocal response in the breast of Little Peleg, and he said, with some show of eagerness, “Didn't you always get what you was counting on and expecting, grandpop? Maybe like a pair of new steel skates that fast- ens on without buckles or straps, the kind Bill Simmons says he's goin’ to git?” “Steel skates!” ex- claimed the Old Settler, staring at Peleg in amazement. “Why, Jehu, sonny! There wa'n't no setch a thing as steel skates, nor no other kind o° skates, in the Sugar Swamp deestric’ when I was a boy. Apples an’ crullers an’ gingerbread an’ setch was what Sandy Claws stuffed in my stockin’s in them days. Steel skates! “An’ Bill Simmons thinks he'll git some, does he? Well, if ol’ Sandy Claws is fell to droppin’ steel skates on to Bill Sim- mons that fastens on without buckles or straps, then it seems to me, b'gosht'Imighty, that it’s about time he shet up shop! Course you ain't ‘spectin’ or countin’ on setch a unheerd-on thing, sonny, as steel skates that fastens on without buckles or straps ?” «N-n-no-o-0,” gasped Little Peleg. + Only Bill"—— « Never mind about Bill !” said the Old Settler. + But speakin’ countin’ on an’ ‘spectin’ somethin’ from Sandy Claws an’ then not gitt of it, I done it wunst, Peleg. When I was jest about as old as you be, it havin’ come along Chris'mas Eve, my folks they says to me I'd better GETTING EVEN. Mr. Sry Partor—"* Well, if the landlady won't give me any heat I'll use some out of her chimney.” WHEN THE ROOSEVELT IDEA TRIUMPHS. down an bellered like I hadn't bellered sence I was a creepin’ baby. Then I stuffed my pockets chuck full 0’ crullers an’ gingerbread an* started fer the woods, I don't know what I done that fer, but I done it. I guess mebbe I was goin’ to cram them crullers and gingerbread into me till I busted, I was so disapp'inted about the gun Sandy Claws didn’t bring me, I got mebbe a mile in the woods an’ then I sot down on astump. I hadn't sot there long when I see a bear comin’ along, lookin’ lonesome an’ hungry. When the bear seen me it stopped an’ kind o' licked its chops. Then I was disapp'inteder than ever that I didn’t git the gun I was countin’ on an’ ‘spectin’. But pooty soon I thunk what day it was. Peleg, I jest unloaded ail them crullers an* gingerbread outen my pockets on to the stump an’ walked away. The hungry bear give me the gratefullest look that ever could be give by a human or a unhuman, an’ turned to an’ feasted on them goodies. Now, s'posin’ I'd ‘a’ had that gun I was’ countin’ on an’ ‘spectin’ an’ didn’t git? Why, sonny, I'd ‘a’ whanged that bear dead to wunst, an’ sp'iled its merry Chris'mas ! Little Peleg sighed and went out to the wood-pile, and the Old Settler communed with himself. “Steel skates, eh 2" said he. or straps. I know he'll tumble with ‘em on cokynut, but I s’pose he'll hef to have ‘em ?” A REVISED VERSION. ITT WAS the night before Christmas, and all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse, And this was the reason, my dearest Babette, The house was a new one and wasn't let yet. “ That fastens on without buckles n’ crack his pesky little kD Morr. DOG DAY DREAMS. Fido has to have his gifts in fashionable homes these times. comicbooks.com