Judge — December 7, 1912 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

reward of courage into the open sack. Then the stooped, thin figure departed as silent- ly as it had come, and another face peered out between the cracks in the window and, chuckling softly, watched it That night there was won- der in a cabin down by the river, and a ring of round, dark faces stared at a small piece of paper which bore a few lines on one side. Aunt "Cindy listened for a little in silence, and then broke in, ‘‘Dat dar sho’ is cunjer doin’s. An’ I knows when I is well off, dat’s all! Iain’ gwine to hab nuffin to do wif no such!"’ The ring of expectant, if fearful, faces became crest- fallen, and the thin, stooped figure lifted the turkey and carried it out into the woodshed, locking the door care- fully on the haunted edible. There was consternation in the cabin on the next morning and disappointment, and it was with a serene face and a troubled soul that Uncle Zeke took his way townward. He went up to the law office of Bob Jenkins, and he found his employer there before him. Uncle Zeke stepped in and sidled through into the back room; there he braced his fail- ing spirits, and came out into the office again with a mop and bucket. Setting them down on the floor, he saluted the waiting Bob: ‘‘Chris’mus gif'!"” Bob responded with a quar- ter. Then he let the negro mop steadily for a few moments before he questioned him: “Well, Uncle Zeke, going to have a big time down at your © house to-day?’” Uncle Zeke started guiltily, cast a side glance of appraisal at his interrogator, and paused a little before replying, “Dunno, Mister Bob. Dey ain’ much chance fo’ er niggah nomo’. Eatin’s is all so mighty high dat I s’pects dat we-all - ’ “There ! now Santa Claus won't burn his feet!'’ will jes’ make out to do wif side meat.’"’ “Don’t you like turkey?” asked Bob smilingly. Uncle Zeke paused again. “*Yassuh, I laiks turkey; but turkey is fo’ de quality, an’ dey ain’ no quality to er nig- gah." “But, Uncle Zeke,’’ went on the tormentor, ‘‘I always thought a fellow like you would know plenty of ways by which a turkey might come into the Christmas stocking. How about i ‘Dunno nuffin’ "bout dat, Mister Bob,’’ denied the old man. ‘Dey ain't nebber been no turkey in no Chris’- mus stockin’ down to mah place, ‘caze dey ain’ no Chris’mus stockin’.’” “Well, how about a Christmas sack, then?’’ went on the delighted Bob. Uncle Zeke was sure now. ‘Now, dar yo’ go!’’ he said. ‘‘I dunno nuffin’ 'bout no sack. ’Sides, ef et nig- gah goes pirootin’ eround atter oddeh folks’ turkeys, de debbil will sho’ git him. I don’ want nuffin’ to do wif de debbil, an’ I don’ know nuffin’ a tall "bout no sack !"’ “I'll tell you about one,’’ laughed Bob. ‘‘There used to be an old man in a town I knew about, and one night, right close around Christmas, he went out with a sack under his arm and slipped through the bushes back of an old hen house. He went on up to the window, and after he got it open he slid his hand in and felt something. Then he started to crawl through the window, and he thought that the devil had caughthim. But this old man wasn’t afraid of the devil, so he came back. He put in his hand again, and pretty soon he found that he had been shaking hands with a dead turkey. Then this old man put that turkey in a sack and took it home, and when he got it home (Continued in advertiring section.) comicbooks.com