COL. CROCKETT'S CO-OPERATIVE CHRISTMAS RUPERT HUGHES [Illustration] Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas [Illustration: LAST NIGHT I ATE A HORRIBLE MOCKERY OF A CHRISTMAS DINNERIN A DESERTED RESTAURANT] [Illustration] Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas By Rupert Hughes Philadelphia and London George W Jacobs and Company COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY _Published September, 1906_ _All rights reserved_ _Printed in U. S. A. _ Illustrations Last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas dinner in a deserted restaurant _Frontispiece_ As blue as all the swear words ever swore _Facing page_ 14 He said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs on me 18 "Only one thousand plunks, " says he 40 James J. James, Publicity Expert 48 Old Miss Samanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph 60 [Illustration] Foreword Of all the strange gatherings that have distinguished Madison SquareGarden, the strangest was probably on the occasion, last Christmas, when the now well-known Colonel D. A. Crockett, of Waco, rented the vastauditorium for one thousand dollars, and threw it open to the public. As he is going to do it again this coming Christmas, an account ofthe con-, in-, and re-ception of his scheme may interest some of thethousands who find themselves every Christmas in the Colonel's plight. My plan to describe it was frustrated by the receipt, from his wife, of three letters he wrote her. It seems only fair, then, that the authorof an achievement which is likely to become an institution should beallowed to be the author of its history. I shall, therefore, contentmyself with publishing verbatim two of the Colonel's own letters. RUPERT HUGHES LETTER ONE _New York, N. Y. , Dec. 26, 1904. _ FRIEND WIFE: The miserablest night I ever spent in all my born days--the solitariest, with no seconds--was sure this identical Christmas night in New YorkCity. And I've been some lonesome, too, in my time. I've told you how, as a boy, I shipped before the mast--the wrongmast--and how the old tub bumped a reef and went down with allhands--and feet--except mine. You remember me telling how I grabbedaholt of a large wooden box and floated on to a dry spot. It knocked thewind out of my stummick considerable, but I hung on kind of unconscioustill the tide went out. When I come to, I looked round to see wherein Sam Hill I was at, and found I was on a little pinhead of an islandabout the size a freckle would be on the moon. All around was mostlysky, excepting for what was water. And me with nothing to drink it with! I set down hard on the box and felt as blue as all the swear words everswore. There was nothing in sight to eat, and that made me so hungrythat me and the box fell over backward. As I laid there sprawled out, with my feet up on the box, I looked between my knees and read thembeautiful words, "Eat Buggins' Biscuit, " in plain sight before me onthe end of the box. [Illustration: AS BLUE AS ALL THE SWEAR WORDS EVER SWORE] Well, me and friend Buggins inhabited that place--about as big as oneof Man Friday's footprints--for going on four weeks. When tide was in, I held the box on my head to keep my powder dry. 'Long toward the end ofmy visit, just before the ship that saved me hove in sight, I began tofeel a mite tired of that place. I kind o' felt as if I'd saw about allthat was int'resting on that there island. I thought I was unhappy and Ihad a sneaking idea I was lonesome. But I see I was mistaken. I hadn'tspent a Christmas night alone in a big city then. Then once when I was prospecting for our mine, I was snowed up in apass. I reckon I've told you how I got typhoid fever and wrestled itout all day by my lonesome; unparalleled thirst, Boston baked brains, red flannel tongue, delirium dreamins, and self-acting emetic, downto the final blissful "Where am I at?" and on through the nice longconvalescence till my limbs changed from twine strings to human members. Six weeks doing time as doctor, patient, trained nurse and fellow-Masonall in one, was being alone right smart. But it wasn't a patch on thelittle metrolopis of Manhattan on Santy Claus day. Then once I had a rather unrestful evening out in the western partof Texas. A fellow sold me a horse right cheap, and later a crowdof gentlemen accused me of stealing it, and I was put in jail with apromise of being lynched before breakfast. That was being uncomfortablesome, too. But I wished last night that my friend, Judge Watson, hadn'tcome along that night and identified me. It would have saved me fromNew Yorkitis. Then there was the night when I proposed for your hand and you sent meto your pa, and he said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs onme. I spent that night at a safe distance from the dogs, leaning on afence, and not noticing it was barb wire till I looked at my clothes andmy hide next day. I watched your windows till the light went out and allmy hope with it--and on after that till, as the poet says, till daylightdoth appear. Then there's the time I told you about, when--but there's no use ofmaking a catalog of every time I've been lonesome. I have taken my penin hand to inform you that last night beat everything else on my privatelist of troubles. My other lonely times was when I was alone, but thelonesomest of all was in the heart of the biggest crowd on this herecontinent. [Illustration: HE SAID IF I EVER COME NEAR AGAIN HE'D SIC THE DOGS ON ME] There was people a-plenty. But I didn't know one gol-darned galoot. Ihad plenty of money, but nobody to spend it on--except tiptakers. I wasstopping at this big hotel with lugsury spread over everything, thickerthan sorghum on corn pone. But lonely--why, honey, I was so lonely that, as I walked along the streets, I felt as if I'd like to break into someof the homes and compel 'em at the point of my gun to let me set in anddine with 'em. I felt like asking one of the bell-boys to take me home and get his mato give me a slice of goose and let her talk to me about her folks. There was some four million people in a space about the size of ourranch. There was theatres to go to--but who wants to go to the theatreon Christmas?--it's like going to church on the Fourth of July. Therewere dime muzhums, penny vawdevilles, dance-halls. There was a big dinner for news-boys. The Salvation Army and theVolunteers gave feeds to the poor. But I couldn't qualify. I wasn'tpoor. I had no home, no friends, no nothing. The streets got deserteder and deserteder. A few other wretches wasmarooned like me in the hotel corridors. We looked at each other likesneak-thieves patroling the same street. Waiters glanced at us pitifulas much as to say, "If it wasn't for shrimps like you, I'd be home withmy kids. " The worst of it was, I knew there were thousands of people in town injust my fix. Perhaps some of them were old friends of mine that I'd havebeen tickled to death to fore-gather with; or leastways, people from myState. Texas is a big place, but we'd have been brothers and sisters--orat least cousins once removed--for Christmas' sake. But they werescattered around at the St. Regis or the Mills Hotel, the MarthaWashington or somewhere, while I was at the Waldorf-hyphen-Astoria. It was like the two men that Dickens--I believe it was Dickens--tellsabout: Somebody gives A a concertina, but he can't play on it; wintercoming on and no overcoat; he can't wear the concertina any more thanhe can tootle it. A few blocks away is a fellow, Mr. B. He can play aconcertina something grand, but he hasn't got one and his fingers itch. He spends all his ready money on a brand-new overcoat, and just thenhis aunt sends him another one. He thinks he'll just swap one of themovercoats for a concertina. So he advertises in an exchange column. About the same time, A advertises that he'll trade one house-brokenconcertina for a nice overcoat. But does either A or B ever see B's orA's advertisements? Not on your beautiful daguerreotype. That was the way with us-all in New York. The town was full of lonesomestrangers, and we went moping round, stumbling over each other and notdaring to speak. They call us "transients" here. It's like a common sailor that's lost atsea; he's only a "casualty. " So us poor, homeless dogs in New York areonly transients. Why, do you know, I was that lonely I could have stoodout in the square like a lonely old cow in the rain, and just mooed forsomebody to take me in. I'd have telegraphed for you and the childern to come to town, but Texasis so far away, and you'd have got here too late, and you couldn't comeanyway, being sick, as you wrote me, and one of the kids having malary. How is his blessed self to-day? I hope you're feeling better. Telegraphif you ain't, and I'll take the first train home. Well, last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas dinner in adeserted restaurant, and it gave me heartburn (in addition to heartache)and a whole brood-stable of nightmares. I went to bed early, and stayedawake late. Gee! that was an awful night. I tried Philosophy--the next station beyond Despair. I said to myself, "You old fool, why in the name of all that's sensible should you feelso excited about one day more than another?" I wasn't so lonely theday before Christmas, I ain't so lonely to-day, but then I was likea small boy with the mumps and the earache on the Fourth of July. The firecrackers will pop just as lively another day, but--well, theuniverse was simply throwed all out of gear, like it must have beenwhen Joshua held up the moon--or was it the sun? You remember reading me once about--I reckon it was Mr. Aldrich'spleasing idea of the last man on earth; everybody killed off by apestilence or something, and him setting there by his lonely littlelonesome; and what would he have done if he had heard his door-bellring? Well, I reckon he'd have done what I'd have done if I'd met afriend--given one wild whoop, wrapped his arms round his neck, kissedhim on both cheeks, and died with a faint gurgle of joy. I'd of beenglad to have died so, too. Finally, I swore that if I ever foresaw myself being corralled again ina strange city on Christmas, I'd put on a sandwich board or somethingand march up and down the streets with a sign like this: I'm lonely! I'm homesick for a real Christmas! There must be others. Let's get together! Meet me at the Fountain in Union Square! We'll hang our stockings on the trees. Perhaps some snow will fall in 'em. Come one--Come all! Both great and small! I bet such a board would stir up a procession of exiles a mile and ahalf long. And we'd get together and have a good crying match on eachother's shoulders, and wring each other's hands, while the band playedOld Lang's Sign. But it's over now. I've lived through the game of Christmas solitairein a big city, and I feel as relieved as a man just getting out of adentist's office. He's minus a few molars, and aches considerable, buthe's full of a pleasing emptiness. But let me say right here, and put it in black and white: If I'm everdragged away from home again on Christmas, I'll take laughing-gas enoughfor a day and two nights, or I'll take some violent steps to getcompany, if I have to hire a cayuse and a lariat and rustle Broadway, rounding up a herd of other unbranded stray cattle. Well, this is a long letter for me, honey, and I will close. Love andkisses to the sweet little kids and to the best wife a fellow ever had. Your loving AUSTIN. P. S. I pulled off the deal all right. The syndicate buys the mine. I get $500, 000 in cash and $500, 000 in stock, and I start for homein three days. We'll hang up our stockings on New Year's Day. Between Letters The Fates accepted Colonel Crockett's challenge, and, by an irresistiblesyndication of events, forced him to be alone in New York again the verynext Christmas. After a series of masterly financial strokes, he hadfelt rich enough in his two millions to spend a year abroad with hisfamily. A cablegram called him to America early in December, to adirectors' meeting. Expecting to return at once, he had left his familyin Italy. A legal complication kept him postponing his trip from dayto day; and finally an important hearing, in which he was a valuedwitness, was postponed by the referee--or deferee--till after theholidays. The Colonel saw himself confronted with another Christmasfar away from any of his people. The first two days he spent in violentprofanity, and in declining invitations which he received from businessacquaintances to share their homes. Then he set out to make the occasionmemorable. Once more we may leave the account to him. LETTER TWO _New York, N. Y. , Dec. 28, 1905. _ FRIEND WIFE: Well, I've been and went and gone and done it! And golly, but it wasfun--barring wishing you and the little ones had of been here, too. Nextyear we'll arrange it so, for I'm going to do it again. You rememberArtemus Ward's man who "had been dead three weeks and liked it. " Well, that's me. This camping out in New York is getting to be a habit. I'msending you a bundle of newspaper clippings as big as a stovepipe--allabout Yours Truly. As soon as I saw that circumstances had organized a pool to corner meand my Christmases, I spent a couple of days sending up rain-makinglanguage. Then I settled down to work like a bronco does to harnessafter kicking off the dashboard and snapping a couple of traces. "If I've got to be alone this Christmas, " I says to myself, "I'll makeit the gol-blamedest, crowdedest solitude ever heard of this side ofthe River. " I looked for the biggest place in town under one roof. MadisonSquare Garden was _it_. You remember it. We was there to the HorseShow--so-called. You recollect, I reckon, that the Garden holds rightsmart of people. At a political meeting once they got 14, 000 people intoit, and there was still room for Grover Cleveland to stand and makea speech. Well, feeling kind o' flush and recklesslike, I decided to go and seethe manager, or janitor, or whatever he is. And go I did. I says to him:"Could I rent your cute little shack for one evening--Christmas night?" "Certainly, sir, " he says. "There happens to be nothing doing thisChristmas. " "How much would it set me back?" I says very polite. "Only one thousand plunks, " says he smiling. "But, my dear Gaston, " I says with a low bow, "I don't want to buy yourlittle Noah's Ark for the baby. I only want to borrow it for one evening. " "One thou. Is our bargain-counter limit, " he says. "I couldn't make itless for the poor old Czar of Rooshy. " I kind o' hesitated, remembering the time when a thousand dollars wouldhave kept me comfortable for about three years. It's hard to get overthe habit of counting your change. Then Mr. Janitor, seeing me kind o'groggy, says, a little less polite: "If that's more than you care to pay for a single room you can get a cotfor five cents on the Bowery; for a quarter you can get a whole suite. " [Illustration: "ONLY ONE THOUSAND PLUNKS, " SAYS HE] That riled me. I flashed a wad of bills on him that made his eyes looklike two automobile lamps. He could see it wasn't Confederate money, either. Then I shifted my cigar to detract attention while I swallowedmy Adam's apple, and I says: "I was only hesitating, my boy, because I wondered if your nice youngGarden would be big enough. You haven't got a couple more to rent at thesame price?" He wilted and caved in like a box of ice cream does just before you gethome with it. Then he began to bow lower, and we cut for a new deal. Hetook the lead. He says what might I be wanting to use the Garden for? "Oh, I won't bulge the walls or strain the floor, " I says. "I only wantit for a Christmas tree. I am going to invite my friends to a littleparty. " "Whew, but you must be popular!" he says. "Who the dickens are you?Brother Teddy, or Mother Eddy?" "I'm Colonel D. Austin Crockett, of Waco, " I says as meek as I could. "Pleased to meet you, Colonel, " he says. "What you runningfor?--District Attorney? Or are you starting a new Mutual Benefit LifeAssassination?" "Neither, " I says; "I'm a stranger in New York. " "But these friends of yours?" he gasped. "Is all Waco coming up here onan excursion? Is the town going to move bodily?" "Mr. Prosecutor, " I says, "if you'll stop cross-examining a minute, andlet me tell how it all happened, it will save right smart of time. I ama stranger here to about four million people. They are strangers to me. We ought to know each other. So I'm going to give a little MadisonSquare Garden warming and invite 'em in. " "What are you going to sell 'em--prize poultry, or physical culture?" "I've nothing to sell. I'm just going to entertain 'em. " "Well, I've heard of Southern hospitality, " he says, "but this beats me. How much you going to charge a head?" "Nothing. Everything is to be free. Admission included. " "Not on your dear old Lost Cause!" he exclaims. "Leastways not in ourlittle doll's house. Not for ten thousand dollars! Why, man, do yourealize that if you offered these New York, Brooklyn, Bronx, Hackensackand Hoboken folks a free show, more'n two thousand women would gettrampled to death? Did you ever see a bargain-counter crowd onTwenty-third Street? Well, that's only for a chance to get somethingthey don't want at a fishbait price. But if you offered them a free, 'take-one' chance--holy keewhiz!--I can just see it now! The Gardenain't half big enough in the first place. There's enough Take-One'ers inthese parts to fill the old Coliseum. And they'd make the wild animalslook like a cage of rabbits or white mice. " Well, the upshot of it was, he persuaded me to charge an admission; sowe set it at $1. 00 a head "on the hoof. " I wrote out a card and sent itto all the papers to print at advertising rates. It cost right smart, but it looked neat: TO EVERY STRANGER IN NEW YORK, AND HIS LADY If you are not otherwise engaged on Christmas night, the honor of your presence at Madison Square Garden is requested by DAVID AUSTIN CROCKETT _Colonel Fifth Texas Cavalry, C. S. A. _ Music, Dancing, Refreshments, Souvenirs. For the purpose of keeping out the undesirable element a charge of $1. 00 will be made. I knew that them magic words, "Refreshments" and "Souvenirs, " would hit'em hard. In order to whet the public interest, I asked the papers whereI advertised to give the thing some editorial or other reference. Butthey was very cold and said the best they could do was to send theirdramatic critics to criticise the show afterward. A lot of good thatwould do me! So I took more space in advertising. In a day or two I was visited at the hotel by one of the most imperentyoung fellows I ever met up with. He sent up a card, "_James J. James, Publicity Expert. _" I said to show him in, and he sort of oozed throughthe door--he was that oily. He looked about to see if we was alone; thenwinked slow and important, and says: "What's your game, Colonel? It looks pretty slick, but I can't quitemake it out. It's a new bunco, all right, but slick as it looks, itain't quite so slick as it ought to be. " "Look here, you cub, " I roared, "if you imply that I have any evilmotives in this, I'll shoot you so full of holes you'll look like amosquito net!" He wasn't a bit scared; he simply winked the other eye, and said in akind of foreign-sounding language: "Forget it, Colonel! Cut it out! Back to the alfalfa with your BuffaloBill vocabulary! If you are really on the level, you don't need to proveit with artillery. But it makes no diff. To me about that. My businessis producing fame, not merit. Once more I ask, what's your lay?" [Illustration: JAMES J. JAMES, PUBLICITY EXPERT] I overcame a desire to kick him through the ceiling, and told him Iproposed to entertain the strangers in New York. "Strangers in New York?--Why, that means everybody! There's been onlyone man born in New York since the war, and he's kept in alcohol at adime muzhum. Your idea is really to give old New York a Christmas party, eh? Very pretty! Very pretty, indeed! But if you insist on explodingmoney all over the place, I don't see why you shouldn't get a run forit. Besides, I need a bit of it myself. What you want is a press agent. You're starting all wrong. People in New York can't understand orbelieve anything except through the language of the press agent. Youtake one on your staff, and in three days you'll be so famous that, ifa child in a kindergarten is asked who is the Queen of Holland, it willanswer: 'Colonel Crockett, of Waco. '" Well, he poured out the most remarkable string of talk I ever heard, andbefore I knew it he had made me promise to trust my soul and my schemeto him; to be surprised at nothing that might appear in the papers, andto refer all reporters to him. The next morning I found my name on thefront page of every journal, with my picture in most of them. It seemsI had held at bay two hundred angry Italians who were trying to mob aChinese laundryman. The evening papers said that I had stopped a runawaycoach-and-four on Fifth Avenue, that morning, by lassoing the leader. Onthe coach were Mrs. Aster, Mrs. Fitch, Reggie Vanderbuilt, George Goold, Harry Leer and a passel of other "Among those presents. " That night Iwent to a music-hall--according to the next morning's papers--and brokeup the show by throwing a pocketful of solitaires to the chorus girls. The next day three burglars got into my room; I held them up in acorner, took away their masks, spanked them, and gave them each ahundred-dollar bill to help them to avoid temptation. That afternoonthe three big life-insurance companies asked me to be president. And soon--you can read for yourself in the clippings--only for Heaven's sakedon't believe any of it. In every article was a neat allusion to myChristmas party. I wanted to kill James J. James, and I scoured the town for him, but hedodged me. He kept his word, though. For the last few days I've been themost talked-of man in town. Looks like I'd been the Only man in NewYork. And now to tell about my little party. For two days a regiment of menwas working in the Garden under my direction--and at my expense. It waslike paying the war appropriation of Russia. But it was worth it. At six o'clock Christmas night the crowd began to line up at the Gardendoors. At 6:30 a platoon of police arrived. At 6:40 the line reachedtwice around the Garden. At 6:45 they sent for more police. At 7:15every street was solid with people. They called out the police reservesand clubbed about four hundred innocent bystanders insensible. At 7:45the fire department was called and played the hose on the crowd. This thinned 'em off a bit on the outsquirts. Then the ambulances giveout and the fainting women was carried home in express wagons andwheelbarrows. The subway was the only line that could run cars. At 8:30 the doors opened. You should of seen the rush. The Galvestonflood wasn't in it. At 8:45 the Garden was so full they closed thedoors. That sent some of the outside crowd home. The Garden was a beautiful sight. On the tower outside, in big electricletters, there was a sign, "Merry Christmas to you and yours. " Inside it was decorated with holly leaves and berries--tons and tons ofit. At one end was built a big house with a chimbly and an old-fashionedfireplace. The roof of the house was covered with snow (cotton), andthe sky back of it was full of electric stars that twinkled somethingbeautiful. And there was a moon that looked like the real thing. There was four bands in the balconies and a chorus of angels with realwings and electric halos. They sang "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men, "written for the occasion by Mr. De Koven. By and by all the bands bust out gorgeous, and then Santy Claus appearedin a sleigh drawed by six real live stuffed reindeers. He run along thesky on unseen grooves and drove up to the roof of the house, and sliddown the chimbly with a pack of presents. He filled all the stockingswith candy cornycopies and toys, and a lot of attendants passed 'em outto the childern. You should of heard them squeal with joy--poor littletots, living in hotels and apartment places where Santy Claus would ofhad to come up the steam radiator or the gas-log pipe to get in. Well, my Santy Claus had to make sixteen trips to satisfy the childern. The Garden was divided into sections, one for every State and Territory, with its own shield in electric lights and colors. There was a native ofevery State in charge, and every State had its own big Christmas tree, and reception-room and refreshments. Some of the people I noticed seemedto of been born in several States at once, the way they passed from onebooth to another fillin' up their pockets and stummicks. I reckon theypaid for it the next day in doctors' bills. But there was nary a sign of rowdyism. That dollar admission was aregular sieve for straining out the toughs. Then there were policemeneverywhere, and every other man nearly was a plain-clothes man or adetective. Besides, after sober consideration, and on advice from theGardeners, I cut out all drinks, except soft stuff. So there were nojags, except what some people brought with them from their Christmasdinners and loaded plum puddings. And then, of course, that peculiar something we get into us at Christmastime filled everybody with a sort of loving fellowship and a hankeringto hug their neighbors and divvy up their funds like a Mutual LifeInsurance Company prospectus says it's a-going to do some day. In the centre of the hall there was a big sign in electric letters: EVERYBODY IS HEREBY INTRODUCED TO EVERYBODY ELSE--FOR TO-NIGHT ONLY At every State booth you'd see people gathering and recognizing oldfriends or introducing theirselves to new ones. It was surprising howeach State had its gathering. At the Texas booth there was a big, immense crowd. A lot of them turnedout to be old friends of ours; school friends of yours, ranch friendsof mine, people I had worked for, people who had worked me--or for me. A lot of them sent their love and a Merry Christmas to you. I rememberespecially---- [Here we omit a list of names, somewhat lacking inuniversal interest. ] I had advertised that people who wanted to give each other Christmaspresents could have them hung on the State trees. My attendants gavethem checks for their gifts and there wasn't many mix-ups. Old MissSamanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph, and he gota pair of silver-buckle garters meant for her. But most of them come outright, and several of them was so surprised at getting presents in NewYork that they bust out crying. Major Calhoun's whiskers was soaking wetwith tears when he got a bottle of old Bourbon from Judge Payton. [Illustration: OLD MISS SAMANTHY CLAY GOT A BOX OF CIGARS MEANT FORJUDGE RANDOLPH] Rich folks who had been poor men met charter-members of the "I'm on toyour origin" association. But the Christmas spirit made them forget tobe snobs. You'd hear millionaires telling plain people how they used toplay Hallowe'en jokes, how they scraped up to buy their mothers littleChristmas gifts--what ridiculous things they used to get and give! All evening as fast as anybody went out they'd let somebody else in. Along about eleven o'clock a lot of the people began to go home. Then anew crowd come in. People who had taken their childern home and put themto bed would come back for more fun. Others, who had spent the eveningdining, began to dribble in. All the actor-people and singers came. It was good to see them. Someof them told me what a god-send such a thing was to them, homeless byprofession. A lot of them brought their wives and babies. One father wasplaying Romeo in Newark, his wife was playing Little Eva in Harlem, andtheir daughter was playing Camille on Broadway. You should of seen themrejoicing round the Kansas tree! About midnight the big refreshment hall was opened and everybody thatcould squeeze in set down to long tables where I had supper served. I had some of the best after-dinner speakers in town come in, and youshould of heard some of the funny stories--it would of brought back dearold childhood memories. Mayor McClellan gave us all a welcome, and thenthere was Chauncey Depew, of course, and Simeon Ford, and AugustusThomas, and Wilton Lackaye, and Job Hedges, and Lemuel Ely Quigg, andGeneral Horace Porter, and a passel of others. They all made the most surprising allusions to your poor old husband. They called me Daddy and sang about me being a jolly good fellow. Andone of them christened me "Santy Crockett. " Why, my ears burned so hotI near set my collar on fire! It sure was worth all I spent, and I hada terrible time to keep from blubbering. I must of swallowed about fourhundred and eleven Adam's apples. Finally they called on me for a speech. I just kind o' gibbered--I don'tknow what. The papers say I said: "Merry Christmas, my childern! Thisold world sure is some comfortable, after all. The only trouble is thatthe right people can't seem to get together at the right time oftenenough. But this here Christmas supper tastes to me terrible much likeMore. I'm going to try it again. And I hereby invite you all that ain'tin any better place or any better world to meet me here a year fromto-night. And so God bless you all, and--and God bless everybody!" Then after a lot of song-singing and hand-wringing we all went home, tears in every eye and smiles on every mouth. The remnants of foodand toys made more than the twelve baskets full of Scripture. I sentthem round to the Hospitals and Orphant Asylums. I've engaged theGarden again for next Christmas and paid a deposit down. It ain't theextravagance it looks, either, for while the expenses was high--twelvethousand-odd dollars--they took in at the door nearly eighteen thousanddollars. I sent the profit to the Salvation Army and the Volunteers, andnow I'm being prayed for and hallelooyied for everywhere there's a bassdrum. But I'd do it again if it cost me twenty thousand. It's worththat and more to have your heart nearly break wide open with joy andfellowship. It was broad daylight when I got to bed, all wore out with happiness. I cuddled up, like I was a little boy once more in the days when I usedto get up Christmas morning, cold and early, and look at my presents andthen crawl back under the covers again with a double armful of toys, tokeep warm and sleep some more. If only you and the chicks had of been there! Next time you shall be. Your loving AUSTIN. [Illustration] [Illustration]