Life — December 2, 1920 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

December 2, 1920 es |LD Mr. Billdimple gazed into the great fire that roared in the hearth, Ashe watched the embers glow, he wondered who had first called them embers—and why. It must have been nient bard, he decided, who was composing a Yuletide lay and was con- nted with the task of f nate rhyme for “Di Old Mr. Billdimple was a bachelor and, ding a leg mber. such, was supposed to be unhappy and lonely on Christmas Day. Nor was the position incorrect—for old Mr. Bill- dimple was unhappy—and lonely. “Merry Christmas!” He laughed a . mirthless, sardonic la “ Mer-ry Christ-mas! Heh—Heh—Heh! 2. .” Suddenly Mr. Billdimple was aware of an unwonted presence in his room, Turn? ing with a quick movement, he confronted a great, gross fellow, whose red face, with a white beard, atcoat, trimmed trimmed snowy matched well his red gr with ermine. “And now, my good man,” snapped Mr. Billdimple, “perhaps you will be good enough to tell me who you are, and what business brings you here in_ this somewhat unceremonious manner.” The jovial fellow laughed loud and long. “Tam Santa Claus,” he chortled, “and I am the embodiment of the Christmas spirit—peace on earth, good will toward men, ! have come to sce if I cannot in- fect you with a little of this same spirit. Come with me!” The old bachelor rose, fascinated, and followed without a word of protest, while Santa led him out into the snow-clad street. Suddenly Mr. Billdimple noticed that they were not alone. “ And who might these be?” he asked. “This,” said Santa, indicating a prim, ascetic lady of doubtful years but unques- tionable moral is your Conscience. She will be your guide in our wanderings this evening. And here,” he pointed to a harassed and long-suffering little woman who cringed in the background, “here is your Patience. Be careful that you keep her well in hand, for if she be lost, woe betide you!” A ae He then directed Mr. Billdimple’s at- tention to a number of mischievous little boys who were playing about and fighting and making gene sances of them- selves. “These are your Nerves,” said Sa “ And this outlandish fellow is your Bank- roll.” Mr. Billdimple noted with s faction that the last named was the most corpulent and best nourished of all GEDDENLY Conscience spoke into his ear. “You promised to buy a camel’s-hair for Aunt. Millie,” st “dear Aunt Millie, who has sent you a pair of wristlets Christmas the year One.” “To he sure,” said Mr. mustn't forget dear Aunt Millie.” hawl droned; every since Billdimpl So they all proceeded to the store where camel's-hair shawls are purchased, and a camel's-hair shawl, “Then there is the .22 rifle for little Franklin,” continued, nid the rocking horse for Ellsworth, and the walking doll for Agatha, and the Erecto set for Carl and—" purchaser Conscience “Yes, yes,” gasped Mr. Billdimple, remember them all now.” So the jolly party hurried to the toy store, where the demands of twenty-cight small nephews and nieces were attended As they emerged from the shop, Mr. Billdimple poured all the presents into the bag which the genial Santa carried; and, as he did so, he glanced apprehensively at to. een Zr Bank-roll, rapidly, and at his who w coming more ore restiv Nerves, who were jumping madly than ever, and set for Alfred, ac phonograph with fifty ance Millicent, a f ing goes. The Bank-roll weaker, and finally. coll heeame thinner psd altogether ; the impish Nerves became hopelessly in- tractable, and poor little Patience was a total loss before the last store had been visited. The only one of the group who of ¢ relf-possession was Conscience retained any measure Imness and who w ore inflexible and relentless than ever. Then at last the enormous appetite of Santa Claus was satisfied ; and as he dro way in his sleigh, he laughed a laugh evilly triumphant gle: The into the nearest old bachelor sank down exhausted snowdrift. LD Mr. Billdimple blinked. The window of his room for some unaccountable reason—had heen left open, and the snow was blowing in over him as he sat in The embers had died, chimes is great easy chair but the mingled outside Christma with the joyous. sleigh bells in ringing out a message of good cheer. A band of street below itinerant minstrels in’ the were singing “God rest ye, merrie gentlemen; May nothinge For all your bills for Ch We til New Year's day.” you dismay ; masse 't come Mr. Billdimple started. He thrust his hands into his pockets His pockets were empty after all Sherwood. It had not been a dream, Robert E. Se comicbooks.com