“When Big Dan an’ Joe got back the other men had a great time riggin’ up the tree. We was afeerd they wouldn’t be able to buy Christmas-tree candles in Crystal City; but, my land! they got about ten dozen of ’em, an’ no end o’ tinsel an’ shiny balls an’ things to hang on the tree, an’ a lot o’ little flags to stick in among the evergreen dec’rations. We had no end o’ common taller candles on hand, an’ the men were perfectly reckless with ’em. I reckon they put as many as two hundred of ’em up around the room. An’ what did they do but go an’ rig Big Dan up as Santy Claus! They wrapped him up in a big bearskin one o’ the boys had, an’ put about a quart o’ flour on his long, bushy whiskers to whiten ’em, an’ they put a big fur cap on his head, and he did look for all the world like Santy his own self. Yes; an’ he had a string o’ sleigh-bells they got at the stage-office stable; an’ them boys ackshully cut a hole in the roof so Santy Claus could come down through it! La, if you want things carried through regardless, you let a lot o’ Rocky Mountain boys take it in hand. They won’t stop at nothin’. I reckon they’d h’isted off the hull roof if it had been necessary to make the appearance of Santy true to life. Such fun as the boys had over it all! An’ of all the capers they cut up! Seemed like they was all boys once more! Me an’ Ann Dickey an’ Mary Ann Morris were the only women in the camp, an’ we had our hands full gittin’ up the Christmas supper we intended havin’ after the tree. Mind you, there wasn’t a child in camp but just them two pore little orphans, an’ all that fuss was on their account. If you think rough miner boys can’t have the kindest o’ hearts, you just remember that. Every man seemed to be tryin’ to outdo the others in doin’ somethin’ for them little folks.
“Well, I jest wisht you could have seen them children when the time come for ’em to go up to the hall an’ see their tree! Little Freddy he give a yell o’ joy that most split our ears, an’ he just stood an’ clapped his hands, while his sister kep’ sayin’, ‘How lovely it is! Oh, isn’t it beautiful?’ Then Freddy he screeches out: ‘Oh, there’s my choo-choo engine! Goody!’ An’ how little Elsie’s eyes did shine when she saw no less than three dolls on the tree for herself! There was enough stuff on that tree for a hull Sunday-school, for the men had been that reckless in sendin’ to Crystal City for things.
“Then I wisht you could have seen those children when Big Dan come in all rigged up as Santy Claus! That was the cap-sheaf o’ the hull proceedin’s! First we heard his bells outside, an’ him callin’ out, ‘Whoa, there!’ like as if he was talkin’ to his reindeers. Then he clim up the ladder the boys had set outside, an’ presently down he come through the hole in the roof. I jest thought little Fred’s eyes would pop clean out o’ his head when that part o’ the show come off! An’ what fun there was when old Santy went around givin’ the boys all sorts of ridiculous presents! He give old Tim Thorpe a tiny chiny doll, an’ big Jack Ross a jumpin’-jack, an’ Ben Anderson a set o’ little pewter dishes; an’ he fetched me a great big old pipe, when they knowed I hated the very sight o’ one. I tell you, it was real fun!
“Well, the things had all been distributed, an’ the children were loaded down with presents, an’ me an’ the two other women were about to go downstairs to take up the supper, when the door of the hall opened, and a strange man stepped in. When he saw the children he give a kind of a little outcry, an’ the next minute he was down on his knees before ’em, with an arm around each child, an’ he was kissin’ first one an’ then the other. We all jest stared at each other when little Elsie clapped her hands together and said:
“‘Why, papa!’
“An’ that’s jest who it was! The man named Miller who had died a few days before was a cousin o’ the children’s pa. It seemed that his cousin o’ the name of Miller had been sent to meet the children, because their pa had been sick an’ wasn’t hardly strong enough to come away over to Singin’ River for them. He lived in a little camp only about twenty miles away, but it was a hard road to travel for a well man, even. So this cousin he come, an’, from all we could make out, he had lost his way in a storm, an’ had laid out a night an’ got so chilled it had brought on pneumonia. When he didn’t come back with the children after two or three days, their pa got oneasy, an’ he set out himself to see what was the matter. He wasn’t hardly fit to travel, but he come anyhow, an’ he was all tuckered out when he got to Singin’ River. Then he was so nervous an’ kind o’ wrought up that no one thought it to his shame that he jest broke clean down an’ laughed an’ cried by turns, kind o’ hystericky like, over the children.
“We did have the best time at the supper! A storm had come up, an’ the wind was roarin’ an’ howlin’ in the cañon an’ up an’ down the Singin’ River, an’ the sleet was dashin’ ag’in’ the winder-lights; but that jest made it seem more cheery an’ comfortable in the cabin, with a roarin’ fire o’ pine-knots in the big fireplace at one end o’ the cabin, an’ the teakettle singin’ on my big shinin’ stove at the other end. Mr. Miller he set between the two children, an’ he’d hug an’ kiss ’em between times. We made him stay two whole weeks in Singin’ River to rest up an’ git real well, an’ then a hull passel o’ the boys went with him to git the children home. The boys rigged up a sled, an’ tuk turns drawin’ Elsie an’ Freddy over the trails an’ away up over Red Bird Mountain. I reckon it was a ride they won’t ever forgit; an’ none of us that were there will ever in this world forgit that Christmas on the Singin’ River.”
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Reprinted from “St. Nicholas Magazine” with permission.