Christmas Stories.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 308, 24 December 1908, Page 4

Christmas Stories.

I? \PRTOEHCE AMD THE POSSESSION ||*p£f ' MAN. B|j&r L By Tom Gallon. «|F U*- ■? ilaa Fothergill sat in his ofliee "City, lingering certain long Blipi St, 0/ Mue-papef. Outside, all the world ■f shouted t« him and to everyoae Use it was Christmas Eve, and that, «p""~fOfc a time at least, hard bargains were £ done with and old scores forgotten. If i you had known Silas Fothergill you Rf" would have understood that it would v toko a great deal more than Christmas Eve to make him forego a bargain or forget an old score. "T In the narrow court in which his office was situated the wind howled and - moaned, aad drove stinging sleet into the face* of such people as still remained to transact.business; inside the office a meagre scrap of Are had long since - given up the attempt to burn brightly, _ and was slowly flickering out. Silas sat " in,, his overcoat—which waß cheaper, as far as warmth was concerned. " I'll sell him up—l'll turn him out of doors—l'll teach him bow hard the world can be, when,you refuse to look it squarely in the face aad pay your debts!" he muttered. " The yonng dog! —ijust like the father that flung his .-" money broadcast five-and-twenty years .. ago. like father—like son; only the son shall pay for both!'' He was interrupted by a knock at the . , outer door. His clerks had gone for the day, and he must perforce open it liimg«tf. Opening there was; literally blown fa upon him, in a whirl of wind

and sleet, a little closely-buttoned man, ■■ holding his hat on with both hands. .Murmuring apologies, he set to work to help (Silas Fothergill close the door. "I was just going home," panted the newcomer, "when I that you wanted to see me about this busi- - sees of your nephew. Christmas Eve, you" know—it doesn't quite seem a time - fin business—does it?" He smiled pro- \-. n itiatingly, and shook the sleet from i *AII times are times for business with me," retorted Silas. "Come inside; ■ JtehaVt keep you five minutes—especially as you're a lawyer. You charge for your time;' The other laughed at the pleasantry, ■ -, and followed his patron into the inner office. Covertly enough he drew as near j the fire as he could, and warmed his s- hands at the last speck of it; watched ? Silas Fothergill as the latter picked up E- -the blue slips of paper, and flicked them \ between his fingers. jL ''ls this all-?" asked Silas, looking up |* -at the x>tier, witth his mouth one grim I; Jine. "Don't deceive me Martin Slade —or 111 find another lawyer." g: - "Those are all I can find—and I have fe made most careful enquiries in all direcg. tions," replied the lawyer. ''Your nepjF hew has borrowed rather extensively in gi .one direction and another—' flying $f kites,' we call it; those are the kites. jp.You see, not having been brought up t'> jj" any profession, the poor lad hasn't had ';. -much chance of making money ;and 4** he's got a wife and child to support." V • " What the devil right has he with a '>.; wife and child?" demanded Silas violently. "Look at me ! I can't afford :. . wife and child ; and yet I'm supposed to

£ be pretty well off." J* ' " You thought of affording one once,'' : retorted Martin Slade boldly. "Thirty year* ago." Silas was silent for a moment or two; f he was looking frowniugly a,t the piece t> of paper. "'And if I did J" he said at ; IM» in a lower tone. "If I was fool

K enough to believe in woman, and to £[ fancy that I loved her—what then J" ft» > " Your nephew Godfrey, whose sigriiK' tiires jouai e looking at on those slips fj, of paper, is her child," the lawyer re- §£? minded him. "I don't want to rake jfij over old grievances, Silas Fothergill; 1 £; only want to remember the past." j\£ "I do remember it," exclaimed the « older man, passionately, v i- do rememto? iter it; I remember how that brpther, %' pf who always got the best of r e.ven'thing, stole .the heart of the woI* man I ' She's, djeai so.w—afldj that's a n end to thq nja.tter, Xo% ca# v f, mix sentiment with. a,t" p" events, I can'f", ...'.'' lrrr — -

fc •' " -.*•'" . . . all <T- and yew tesines* >«*«* ■*■ -op s*H tkfo yonng m«it* *\ _ a to buy ' you amy hold Mm itt tt* ots, so that £ Itaml, and do what yP" nollow of your •* lb> Uwjer was f a like with him." -\YfcyV atching him keenly. y T -Oh-if vqii*\ -_« iut!(> fa ( care to put it so crudely £•* utter of vengeance. I could w uot IC !p> tlu> iaaieT '' l ca " """-■■■ tlip »,-' sou. V M father spoilt my world -for jjlf' like-**' jd has gone to his account for &*, thatj and other things; the son lives, frV anih may he made to feel something of

PwlV*t I'lelt—thirty years ago. He's a .yqviug fool, or he wouldn't have got l bini«elf into his present position—like Js. a fool, he has probably lived in a fool's f paradise. Xow I have him"—he flour- £ 'shed the papers in his hand as he % spoke—" and I'll squeeze"' him. He doesn't know me save as that Unele , % „ Silas, who has been a sort of bogey to 'H- ium all his life; I'll show him my \ power." \ "What are you going to dot" asked t Martin Slade. \ ,- You have threatened him that a

>* writ shall be served upon him; in fact, fj if yon have followed your instructions £»: vou, have already served that writ—- !§ eh?" demanded Silas Fothergill. The K • lawyer nodded. "Very well, then, he j£ knows what to expect. To-night a man & . goes dowo to/take possession' of his f'f property—audi as it is; he shall spend |r his Christinas with a broker's man in %/ possession." ■ £, • " Surely you can wait till after Christ- £■ mas," urged the lawyer. "Man alive!— i*' there is time enough for vengeance be■r. fore the first of January. Besides—l doubt if I can get a man to go down at all at such short notice, and on this night of all others." * Silas Fothergill folded the blue papers, anil put them into his pocket; buttoned ;. his coat, and slapped his pocket with meaning. "Don't worry yourself," he L said. '• For my purpose Christmas is as 5 good a time as, or .better than, any ;- other. He'll be easy in his mind at

Christmas; he'll be thinking of making ... merry and forgetting his debts. BeS-™ " sides, as to the man—that's easily '-* ~ settled. I'll go myself." • S? "You!" The little lawyer stared at gj.- fcim with a dropping jaw. |& •• Yes.—l'll go myself," said Silas Fothj§ eraill, with sdniething as nearly apjjlj proaching a laugh as he could force fro'ii f?. his throat. "I tell you he doesn't k" know me—except as a species of ogre K in the background. I shall go down {if as the man in possession; I shall have % the opportunity to see what sort of a g-, fellow it is that wastes his money, W£f and" plunges into debt, and marries, Bf and brings children into the world. I'll fpr- spy upon him when he doesn't know it; &j- and when I've found out all about him, ST I'll sell the dog up, and tell him who C;- I am." Mr. Martin Slade buttoned his coat, to going out into the wind " TSSd the sleet. He put his hat on very ' ©By. and, getting well towards the r SiT*expressed his sentiments as probably he had never dared to before, "Mr. Silas Fothergill," he said—raising one hand as though about to deliver himself of some great sentiment—"l Can only'say one thing to you; and that is, that you are about to do an infernally brutal action. Don't jump at me, sir," went on the little man with £ growing heat, and yet jumping on his |i - own account a little nearer to the door: %■ "I repeat, sir, that you arc about to I do a scoundrelly action. Tho boy has I, never done yon any harm, and, properly K. speaking, you ought to do something to IS assist the son of the Woman you loved. %, On Christmas JJight-or Christmas Eve E (for you've upset mo to such an extent R- that I scarcely know which it is)—yon fc"are going to do something outside all I reason, and all humanity, and all con- * science. Bah!—l'm ashamed of you!" I Having in the process of this extraordinary address, -worked himself to the '■ door, Mr. Martin Slade worked himself r! notnd it, and so out into the sleet and r the wind. On the whole he felt rather ? proud of himself for his daring; yet P on the other hand he felt convinced that f .no words of his would turn Silas Fothergill from any purpose he had. i • Silas Fothergill, for his part, had been ?' merely amused at the lawyer's outs' burst; bad wondered a little, in fact, |£ that the nan should have found courage ft' to sav such things to bim. One phrase struck hard at the old ma:i,

r «id had «ut him more deeply than lie ~ wonld have cared to confess. "The son f>- of (lie woman vou loved!" That was L trie enough; but then he was the son F of another man—wliirli made all the difg fer»iH-e. The woman Silaa Fothergill E--'hail loved lav in her grave; all that IS: remained of her was an image in the W heart of the old man, of someone hn-rht fe and dainty, whose laughter had echoed p!b Ms heart and echoed still. B"t she neen stolen from him—and now nor £ I#y im»t r*y the price.

J The Lord knows I'm shabby enoutrh ,to play the part," said Silas*. wit ], a wU.msu.al grin., -But then even one knows UK-, and I don't need to carry my wealth oa the outside. When you come -to think of it,.it'll be rather a < m„tiuas juke-this going down to take l»««»>oi; «t the boy's house-this spymg mto hi* life and his secrets. If he tries violence, I'll .. eV( . al mj . 3e , f d , "■I *■>«»; who I am; if he accepts me philosophically, l s |, all F obably learn more about hi,,, j u ti ve minutes than 1 should have done in live years in any other „.,,, iu ■„ J W J Chnrtiaa»-il„ B turning of one's P se ., into a broker's ~.,„. The dog shall humble himself i„ tlle Ulwt an = d y, IU sell him up altrrwanU. Good notion, that: to buy ~., a ,| I,U debts, and then to act as my own debt collector. As for Slade-FU get rid of him, and secure the services of a man who doesn't mix sentiment -with law."

fcilas had secured the necessary papers from Martin Slade beforehand; his path was clear to him. He went out into the sleet and the wind, with an impatient shrug of the shoulders when" a man whom he knew slightly boisterousl v wished him "A Merry Christmas," for what had he to do with Christmas or with merriment? If he had his way, he would put down this business of Christmas altogether; it gave clerks, who were indolent enough already, au excuse for turtner holidays, and for debaueherv. furthermore, not being a man to waste money, h e took an omnibus to his destination in a certain quiet suburb of London; and had a wordy argument with the conductor, because he was set down some live yards beyond the actu il end of.the street.

Behold him, therefore, walking down that street on this Christmas Eve, to wreak his vengeance on a certain small household. A pleasant street bordered with trees, and with little neat houses, standing back from the road. At one of these neat houses he stopped, and, turning up his eoat collar (uot so much as a protection against the weather as a species of suddenly conceived disguise), rang the bell vigorously, and waited for the door to be opened* The door was opened, surprising! v enough, by «. child. That is to sinthere was a sort of little struggle .th.it appeared for a moment or two to go On between a maid and the child; but the child laughingly won. The door was flung open, a,ud a mite of some seven years of age'in a white frock he,d out her arms to Mr. Silas Kother»ill. Which was disconcerting, to say "the least of it. I Then the aims dropped disappoint-1 ingly at her aide. '• I thought vou were Santa Claus," she said—- Daddy told me that he would be sure to come tonight."

"Tell your daddy, as you call him, that 1 want to speak to him," said Silas. '•What name shall 1 say?" broke in the maid, looking at him suspiciously. "You can say," retorted Silas, brutally enough, " that I am the man in possession." He stalked into the house, a-.nl stood waiting for what was to happen, relying solely on the fact that his nephew had never seen him, and therefore did not know; him. . •■From the sound* ami the laughter and the lights it almost seems as though a Christmas party was going on." thought Silas Fothergill. •• Well, I shall probably be able to break that up. at all e\'eats; I'm going to teach the extravagant young dog a lesson." That extravagant young dog presently came out into the tiny hall to interview the visitor. The child had been : dismissed, and the maid also was gone; it was a curious fact, and one to Ue noted, that the maid did not seem, t' 4 the least surprised at the visitor, ~ Mr. Godfrey Fothergill, with. Us ' stuck in his pockets, surveye-' uamls truder with a look of wmi<- . the iuhe seemed rather to he \v a l disimu-; he should do with lht» jn dering what

piussea at lus actual nlan t i, ail n on. beastly rough that .appearance. •■ It's chosen this w' mv lmcle „ huuld have year, to put lltj of a n rights j n the got a iff- a ° mail in » i lc . aa id. <•l've deuce: »' ase {ull of „ uest s; ] luw the P v m 1 to explain you? You look ./ respectable—for a broker's man." Thank you," retorted Mr. Silas Fothergill. " What do you generally do • with men in possession!!" I "Oh, generally speaking, 1 sinugg'c 'em away in the kitchen until I can ' manage to pay them out. But to-night 1 it's so awkward. This place is so small T that it isn't <piite easy to smuggle you away." A door opened, and a young and pretty woman hail come out; the child f was dinging to her skirls. She came ! ' up to the young man, and dropped a e hand on bis shoulder, and looked at r Silas. "My dear 'Godfrey—what's the r matter I'' she asked.

He whispered briclly, so that the child should not hear. Silas Fothcrgill, watching, saw the young woman drop her face for a moment on the hand that rested on her husband's shoulder; heard him whisper again that she mustn't mind, and that it would be all right. The child's eager treble broke in. ''Daddy—what are you going to do with the possession man!" " You needn't trouble about me, you know," said Silas grimly. "Don't let me interrupt your party; you needn't introduce me to your guests." '•Gad—but 1 will!" exclaimed the voung man with a laugh. " I can see a wav out of this—and you shall have the best time of your life. Mr. -Posses-sion-Man. We don't refer to you by vour proper title in polite society; hut them is one title you shall have that will suit you. You must know that I have a certain grim, relentless old uncle, the man who has bought up all my debts and is doing his best to crush me and they call him Silas Fothergill. That shall be' your name, my friend; I'll introduce you to the company as Untie Silas!" ' . ,

"Nothing of the kind," exclaimed Silas Fothergill. " I'm not in the habit of participating in jokes of this sort." •'You've got to do as you're told," retorted Godfrey Fothergill. "Above all things, little Prudence here " "Is that her name?" broke in the old man sharply. (It had been the name of the dead woman he had loved years before—the mother of this Fother"i»ill he had come down to crush.) ° "Yes, that's her name," replied the young mother, looking at this strange old man for a moment in some surprise. "Why?" •' Oh—nothing, only its a pretty name," he replied in a changed voice. "Now. what are you going to do with me? I'm in your hands, and I suppo-c f must submit."

" Of course you must. Besides, if you come to that." added Godfrey Fothergill with a laugh, "my Uncle Silas, I should imagine, is just such an old curmudgeon as you look. Of course I've never seen him, but I should judge him to be vour type of man. -Something's got to'be done with you; I can hardly approach my guests and say to them-- ' Permit me to introduce to yon the broker's man. who has just been put in possession of the place!' 1 couldn't do that, you know; and they all know I've got an Uncle Silas. We've got to make the best of you. so come along." Mr. Silas'Fothcrgill, divested of his overcoat and hat, found himself thrust suddenly into the midst of a crowd of yomig people, all bent on mischief; found himself, too. strangely enough, ilraiged thither by the hand of little Prudence. (A soft little hand, mark vim. with baby lingers that clung about the knotted ones of the old man; and as that had seldom happened in the life of Silas Fothergill, it was a circumstance to be reckoned with.) More, than that, Silas found himself, despite his protests, introduced into various games that included much scurrying about, and some romping in comers; discovered that, for the preservation of his supposed character, he was actually expected presently, at the earnest solicitation, of Mrs. Godfrey Fothergill, to dance in one corner of the room, and bark in auotlrir like a dog, and whisper the name of his sweetheart in another (he whispered 'Prudence.' whereat they clapped their hands tremendously), and to t row vigorously in a fourth. Altogether the strangest broker's man that was ever known, and one likely to forget his errand unless sternly reminded of it. -Strange as it may appear, Silas Fothergill was enjoying himself. The City was miles away, not even to be referred >o in such a moment as this; there were laughing happy faces about him, he was thirty years younger than the actual record of his days would show. More than that, he discovered, somewhat to ihis amazement, that he was a bit of a favourite; overheard one man whisper to voung Godfrey Fothergill that ne had'always understood that Uncle Silas. was a verv terrible person indeed. There was a certain amount of rustling in the darkness, and then another was a verv terrible person indeed. "Look at him!" whispered the friend. ■' He looks a- if he had suddenly come to life!" It was onlv when all the friends were win", and when Godfrey Fothergill and ilia wife had come ha* to the recoiled-

tion of what this man was who played the part assigned to him so well, that their aspect towards him changed a tattle. After all, they had kept the knowledge of the disaster from their friends, and that was much; but tomorrow was Christmas Day, and aft>r to-morrow-ruin stared them in the lace. They were young yet, and little irudence had to be thought o f, as someone to luherit whatever disasters might tall upon themselves; vet who could withstand the dreadful Uncle Silas who lurked in the background, and who had, out of sheer viudictiveuess, bought up these deh'ts the better to get his grp upon them y The broker's man they na-1 dubbed Uncle Silas was nothing; a mere instrument in the hands of stronger men, witli whom they must rcvkon°i!i the future.

The curious part of the business was that little Prudence seemed to have taKen a tremendous fancy to the " posses-sion-man," as she called him. It became evident presently that the small and tyrannical person was not going up the long dark stairs to bed unless the possession-man carried her; and baby arms around a man's neck are apt to be softening things. More than that, she discovered the bumble apartment in which Silas Fothergill had been sent to bed; and in the morning roused him at an unearthly hour by thumping hard upon the door. Wonder of wonders, he so far neglected his duty as to march out with the mite into the snowy streets; so far forgot the dignity o'f Silas Fothergill as to teach her how to slide in a quiet street; was boastful, to.i, about what he had done himself in that direction as a boy. The blue slips of paper folded in the breast pocket of Silas Fothergill's coat were like leaden weights; he -wished with all his heart that he had never been foolish enougli to take this business upon his ow:i shoulders.

I don't think he would have broken down in his resolution, even under the influence of what he had seen in that quiet home, had it not been for the child. The hearing of her name over it.ul over again was an acute reminder of the past, and of the woman he had loved; .moreover, he had an absurd delight in the .thought that the child had taken to him. if he injured (iodfrcr fothergill and his wife, as he must 'ujuro them, he hurt the baby; and that ■was something not to be'thought ,f. He liad various plans in his mind as to what he should do; how he would go away, and put this business into other hands; how he would, ja characteristic fashion, brutally declare himself and state his errand, and demand that the good money lie had paid for those slips of blue paper should be restored to him. But always the child .they had mistakenly' named Prudence stood in his way, always he fell lier arms about his neck, and her soft cheek against his own. There was another party of a modest character on that Christmas Day, and once again the broker's man was introduced as Uncle Silas. When, at the end of it, the people had gone into the snowy streets, Codl'rcy and his wife knew in a sense that this was the end of the respite, and that they must face realities. But Silas Fothergill by that time had made up his mind; and Silas Fothergill said tlle surprising thiuy " r hit He had determined to sav'. v -j ?, , characteristic cowardice «} ' "',' + e drew the child to. k,u» IIC T\w words lie had to *»- ' iUK S 'T e , tUt said. - V to - ...oker's man at all," he s 'hKv W ll ll ' al ' unadulterated Unco upcm •■ .a I've been playing the spy to, ' ou for the past two days in order discover what sort of people yon

.ere. I've -.'"t vour promissory notes, and all the other .paper you've been living on; now, what have you got vO sav to me'f Godfrey'.Fothergill was breaking out indignantly enough when the old man stopped him with'a gesture. "1 haven t linished vet; it's.this baby that's going to finish"the game for inc. More years ago than 1 care to count 1 had dreams of another Prudence, who was never to be mine; perhaps the loss of her soured and embittered me." His head was bent, so that his grey hair mingled with the fair hair of the child. " Whatever I might liave done to hurt you or your wife, 1 couldn't have done to hurt a little person that bears the name <'t the woman I loved so long ago. 1 want lo see more of that little person, in the better days that arc coming; but first she's got to do something for me." Amid a curious silence the old man ; drew the slips of bine paper from Ins pocket and rolled them loosely into a bundle; he put them into the little hands of the child. "We'll have ■'■ Christmas blaze, little Prudence-to warm our hearts a bit. Co and throw them on the lire." The child tossed them into the llamcs, and clapped her hands as they blaz-'il and dropped away into ashes. And in the most surprising fashion Silas Fothergill clapped his hands too.