The Pettingils' Christmas [pp. 247-250]

THE LADIES' REPOSITORY.
teams gave evidence, too, that children of a
larger growthi were out, and that pleasures of
Clhristma.s were not confined to tile little ones
alone.
But at the Pettingils' not much ado was made.
No little stockings were found at their fireside,
that morning, filled withl toys and candies. No
childish prattle or slhouts of liughiter were
lIeard thiroughiout the house their toil ihad
builded. No: they were a childless old couple,
saving, lhoarding, and gatlherilg upl) wealth. And
for what? For what other foolislh people before thlem have done-for some distant relative,
for whom they care not a picayune, to come in
and squanider wlhen thley are dead.
Yet Mrs. Pettingil lhad made some preparalion a little out of thle ordi.nary routine. Slle
had killed a chicken, stuffed it, roasted it, and
on this Chlristmas-day it stood, smoking hlot, upon
the table. A few potatoes, bread, and othler
eatables remained to ble placed beside it, and
then this solitary couple proposed to enjoy their
solitary meal as best they could. Mrs. Petitngil hliad stepped out into thle kitchen to secure
these articles so necessary to a well-ordered
dinner, when, just thlen, Mr. Pettingil entered
the dining-roomi from tile hall. Now, Mr. Pettingil desired an apple. He took down the key
firom its accustomed place by the clock, passed
out to tile kitclhen-porchl, and unlocked and
ol)ened tile cellar-door. The sunlighit rested
gracefully, for a moment, on tile round bald head
as lie moved down tile steps, and then it gave
way as head, bald spot and all, disappeared in
the gloom of the cell.ar. And all these movements of Mr. Petti,ngil were unobserved by
Mrs. Pettingil. A moment later, she, too, came
upon tile kitcllen-p)orchi, antd, with wondering
eyes, saw the open cellar-door.
"Sakes alive!" she ejaculated(; "how careless I be! I thought I had shet that door
once't when I come up; and tile burglars might
have carried off every last tiling. 1'11 shiet it
now, I reckon, so it'll stay shlet." And, with
commendable promptitude, shie closed and locked
the (looI, Iand( put the key in her capacious
pocket.
Just as she was entering the kitchen again, a
shrill "squak'" from thie upper end of thle lot
attracted her attention. Two small boys, with
view to mutual profit, had abstracted one of
her chickens from the coop, and were making
off with it. But Mrs. Pettingil was a woman
of decision. Bare-headed as she was, witli gray
hair streaming on thle breeze, she plunged
tlhrough the snow in hot pursuit. She would
have caught them, too, had not the miserable
clothes-line been in the way, and caught her. It
catiugit her under tle clhin, and, with more haste
than grace, Mrs. Pettingil sat down on thle beautiful snow. And then those small boys crawled
through thle fence, and laughed. It was aggravating! Mirs. Pettiingil rose to tile situation,
however, and from tile snow at the same time,
and once more pursued.
Now, right back of the lot was thle railroad,
and near tile fence and on a side-track wvas
standing a long line of fi'eighlt-cazs. Whether
tile boys thloughlt they could not escape, or
whether they believed their pursuer could not
follow, I do not know; but certain it is, as Mrs.
Pettinigil crept through the fence, they ran to
onie of thle cars, and nimbly clambered in tllrough
an open door. The wvorthy lady followedl, but
paused as slie reached the car.
"You pesky little wretches! If I could only
get in there, I'd trounce ye well, I know!" she
exclaimed, irately.
But tile "little wretches" only lauglled, and
that lauglh settled the matter. Mrs. Pettingil was
game, if she was lame, and she determined to
get into the car. Keeping so near that the boys
could not escape, she looked around for somiething to aid her. A piece of board lay near thle
fence, and placing it in position, she began to
ascend with difficulty. The nlow fi-ighlteed
boys tried to move thie opposite door, but tlley
could not, and their enemy was upon them.
" I'11 slhow ye how to steal honest l)eol)le's
chickens,'? she said, catchiing hold of tlhe boys
and shaking them until their caps fell off, tlhe
pennies, rubber balls and jackkniives rattled
firom their pockets, and the chicken slhook fiomi
thleir grasp and flew over the fence. "I'11 slhowv
ye, little miscreants "-anotlher shake-"I'11
give ye something to remember. I'llI"
But juist tihen tlhere came along the cars an
ominous rattle, then a, sudden bump, and, somieliow or othler, the boys fell on the floor, and(
Mrs. Pettingil seated herself on tlheir prostrate
bodies.
" 0, mum, the cars is goin'!" called out one
of the boys; and rolling fiom under thieir captor,
the two hlurried to tile door.
" Hold on, little boys; help me out too!" exclaimed Mrs. Pettingil, in terrified voice; and,
as soon as she could, she followed.
The boys did not heed, however; they were
too anxious to get out themselves, which tley
did, leaving Mrs. Pettingil to her fate. But the
truth had been spoken; she saw that. Thle
cars were moving, slowly to be sure; yet, slow
or fast, shle felt it dangerous to get out.
"O, massy sakes! let me out! Mister Conductor! Mister any body, stop tle cars!" she
fairly shrieked as she comprehended her position.
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