HOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SECTION
9
A Christmas Convalescent
Merchants, Attention!
Tier Is Money in Tour Old Freight Bill
Let the Trans-Continental Traffic Association Find It for Ton.
It you are a merchant who pari railroad or express charges wo eaa
greatly benefit yon and your business as a member of this Association. It
is the sim of THE TRANS CONTINENTAL TRAFFIC ASSOCIATION to
embody all of the shippers and receivers of freight within the States of
Oregon and Washington Into one strong shippers' association.
We are 1 permanent Institution for the benefit of the merchants, with
general offices maintained at Portland. This associstion is prepared at
any time to handle and giro expert service and Information on freight rout
ing, tariff rates and classification, overcharge, loss and damage claims,
Interstate Commerce eomplaints and rate litigation, In fact, to protect and
assist the shipper from every standpoint of his transportation.
We have proved that an association of this hind carries strength and
commands respect of the railroads, especially in the filing of claims for
overcharges, etc. It is a well-known fact that auditing companies, operating
on a percentage of the amounts recovered as overcharges, have little respeet
or standing with the railroads, and that a larger percentage of the claims
filed by them with the carriers are declined due to lack 6f necessary evi
dence and knowledge required to present claims of merit in the proper mea
ner so as to reach the higher authority over the regular clerical help of the
railroads.
To any shipper or receiver of freight the services of this association ars
invaluable and no operating business can afford to be without it.
We earnestly urge every merchant to take advantage of our SPECIAL
INTRODUCTORY OFFER. Our regular membership fee is Ten Dollars.
For thirty days we will deduct this fee from the overcharges found in you
freight bills and return to you SO per cent of the balance, thus, without
any cash outlay, you are made a member of one of the strongest and most
efficient traffic organiialions in the West.
Write Us Today
The Trans-Continental Traffic
Association
411-412-413-414-415 Panama Building
Portland, Oregon.
II JANT I have an egg, doetorf Jut'
a sof boiled egg. I uster
'spine 'em, but now I 'd give all
the money in my cannon bank for one."
"Too low a bid," declared the doc
tor, "in a few more days you'd offer
your immortal soul. You had better
take those flowers out of the room, Miss
Vaughn; they're too sweet."
His critical, professional glance rested
upon the young mother.
"Don't lose courage now that your
boy is doing famously. Good morning. "
As his footsteps echoed down the hall
the mother said with forced enthusiasm,
"We had nearly finished our story,
hadn't we. When the glass slipper fit
ted exactly, she drew the mate from her
pocket, and she wore them when she
was married to the prince.' "
"Did they have a weddin' supper I"
asked the weak little voice.
"Yes, dear," she hurried it over,
"and music and dancing, and Cinder
ella wore a dress embroidered in silver
tars."
"Did they have ice eream at the
upper f" persisted the weak little voice.
"Yes, darling, and the Fairy God
mother gave them the pumpkin ponies
had a "
"Was it choc-lit and vanillerl"
The trained nurse looked amused, for
she was used to typhoid convalescents,
but the mother's eyes filled with tears,
for the past few weeks had brought her
first experience in racking suspense.
"It was chocolate, but the court cook
was so excited that she spilt some salt
in it, and the Prince couldn't eat any
of it."
"Yon forgot," he returned with gen
tile insistence. " 'Fore I was sick,
when you told it to Bertha and May.
The Prince ate one saucer of choc 'lit
and twe of vaniller. That's why I
wanted to hear it over. The glass slip
per part is silly."
"Shall I get the new catalogue and
read over the list of Christmas books
so that we can tell what you would
like best!" she diverted into new chan
nel. He did not answer, only looked at
her with big, lack-lustre eyes, which
six weeks ago would have been joy
onsly responsive.
"We must have a book or two to
read while you're in bed, but you 11
soon be well, and then a bicycle will
be the best thing. Or do yon prefer a
splendid sled and a pair of ball-bearing
skates I"
"I dunno."
"Don't you know what yon want,
precious? Our Santa Claus is asking."
"Ice cream."
The nurse glanced at the clock and
brought half a glass of buttermilk,
from which he turned with sick dis
taste. Then he remembered.
"Next time it 11 be predergestid beef,
and I hate that worse 'n buttermilk,-'
and he gulped it down bravely.
"What did you have for lunch,
motberf"
"I hardly remember steak and po
tatoes, and sliced tomatoes, I believe,
and some honey."
"Honey! Oh, mother, lerame smell
your breath!"
She bent and kiBsed him.
"I didn't eat any of it, little son.
That was for Bertha and May, be
cause they couldn't have the dessert.
I wasn't hungry; I inly had some tea
and toast" "
She would not say how food chocked
her, when she thought of the hungry
child, up stairs, still condemned to liquid
diet.
Boy looked troubled.
"Please don't get sick, mother."
The doctor's injunction came back to
her, and she went into her own room
and looked in the mirror, for the first
time in weeks with any comprehension
of what was reflected there. She re
alized that it must be bad for Boy, now
that he was well enough to notice it,
to see her look so worn. She took off
the dark wrapper she had been wear
ing while she was nursing, and put on a
pretty gray gown, made more becoming
by the soft fluffiness of chiffon. After
she had pinched her cheeks until the
color came, she went back to Boy's
room.
His face brightened and fell.
"You're goln' somewhere other!"
"Of course not, precious. I'm going
to sit with you all the afternoon, while
Miss Vaughn takes a walk."
He shook his head and smiled faintly,
recalling the physician's parting words.
"The doctor won't let you stay in
here, mother; you're too sweet."
"You dear little knight!" exclaimed
the nurse. "You've been such a good
patient that I think you are just as
sweet as as "
She paused a moment to find the
adequate simile.
"As junket I" suggested Boy polite
ly. "That's sorter sweet, about like
me. Though, of course mother thinks
I'm as good as the best things apple
turnovers, cocoanut cake, and cuBtard
pies (only I don't like to eat those at
picnics 'cause it musses my ears), and
blackberry dumplin', and chewin'
gum 'fore you've chewed the taste out,
and all tho things you get at soda
water fountains and 'speshly ice
cream." His voice grew eager over the
nomenclature.
"There's heaps of good things that
ain't sweet, too. Turkey and rice and
gravy and fish and peanuts and earn-
wiches and hot waffles and pickles.
And all the things me and Dick
French et outdoors, mos' ripe apples
and raw turnips and that rabbit Dick
killed with his rifle and we cooked
him ourselves. Mos' everything's fine
when you're well. And one time Dick
ii
"Don't talk quite so much dearie,
you will tire yourself. Your mother
wants to read to you now."
Boy flared into unexpected rebellion,
contrary to hiB inherent gentleness.
"I don't want to hear any stories.
I'm so tired of 'em." A happy thought
struck him. "You never have read
me any out of your cook book, mother;
read me some of that."
Miss Vanghn nodded to the mother
to acquiesce, and she brought the
book before Bhe left them to take her
walk.
Boy selected the recipes and his
mother read the directions for mak
ing each of his favorite dishes, until
at last his eyes grew heavy, his breath
ing regular, and he slept.
Alone in the quiet room, watching
the easy respiration, the moisture on
the brow, she rejoiced that the days
were past in which the thermometer's
verdict made necessary the dreaded cold
baths. She tried to say a psalm of
thanksgiving, yet she realized a con
straining dumbness, even as she had
felt during the worst period of her
boy's illness. The future, all unknown,
through what pain and stress might he
have to pass to find again the portals
which were then open to the touch of
his unsullied handf So in those days of
anguished suspense she had fought with
herself not to utter the cry of her soul
that he might live, but no other words
had seemed to flow from the springs of
her heart through her white lips.
Now as she mechanically repeated,
"Who redeemeth thy life from destruc
tion, who crowneth thee with loving
kindness and tender mercies," she felt
shocked to realize that while her lips
were framing David's words, her heart
was echoing the feeble query:
" 'Choc 'lit and vaniller "
Suddenly, passionately, she fell upon
her knees.
"Oh, Father, please let him have ice
cream Christmas day! He has been so
patient, give him this little happiness on
Thy Son's birthday I For the sake of
the Blessed Christ-Child. Amen."
A rain of healing tears melted the
control in which she had armored her
self. Never since her own childhood
had she felt so near to the love that
understands, "knowing our childish
ness. "
The nursery echoed with the laugh
ter and chatter of Bertha and May, with
their, dolls and bears and bulging stock
ings. Boy looked with quiet pleasure
at the guts friends and kindred had
sent in generous measure, but there was
a question in his eyes. He bated to
ask it directly, knowing how hard a re
fusal would be to them both.
"The snow looks mighy pretty, moth
er; sorter like vaniller ice creamt"
All his fortitude could not keep back
the rising inflection.
"We shall have to wait until the
doctor comes, dearest. He has promised
to come early to give his directions for
the day."
But already she felt sure of his ver
dict. "Can you get the cream ready for
his 1 o'clock nourishment!" the phy
sician was asking a little later.
"Can If" she echoed indignantly.
"Why, I made it the first thing this
morning as every mother would have
done."
She brought up the tray, with a doily
embroidered in a wreath of holly, and
the ice cream in a pretty saucer, dec
orated with red berries and mistletoe.
But this adorning as much of woman 's
is was purely for her own satisfaction,
for Boy would not have known whether
that delectable white mound was served
from a gold platter or a tomato can.
His thin hand reached for the spoon;
the first, cool, sweet, adorable bit melt
ed in his mouth.
The future might hold jolly fraternity
banquets as college, the keenness of
the hunter's appetite over the' campfire,
the first wonderful meal in his own
home when his housekeeping days should
begin. Yet his mother knew that this
was the supreme gastronomic moment of
his life, that never again could anything
taste so miraculously delicious.
The saucer so empty that washing
seemed a superfluity, Boy turned over
on his pillow with a contended sigh.
"This is an orful nice Christmas.
I'm glad I'm not Dick. His mother
don't make ice cream near as good as
you do, mother."
Write TJs for Information on Market
Conditions.
Dryer, Bollam & Co.
General Commission Merchants.
128 Front Street, Portland, Oregon.
When In Seattle
TRY THE FR YE
"IT LOOKS LIKE A HOTEL"
That's What They All Say.
IT'S NEW
IT'S CLEAN
IT CAN'T BURN
LOCATION IS RIGHT
Only 3 Blocks From Depots
and Docks.
THE RATES ARE RIGHT
$1.00 Per Day and Up.
THE FRYE IS THE RIGHT
HOTEL FOR YOU.