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, Iy-IELIN OONNILLY BETTY JANE threw her purse at

a chair and sat down heavily on‘ the bed I She wore her father's shirt and her brother's blue jeans, u costume she adopted s year before with Woody Anderson's permission. \ "What's the matter, dear?" Shs dumped as the words cut the si- Jence, but she didn't turn. She didn't ~want her mother to know anything was amiss—not yet, anyway. And then suddenly the tears came, like angry fiood waters bursting through a barrier, unable to be restrained any longer.

Mrs. Miller was careful to keep a straight face as she wiped her 16-year-old daughter's face with her handkerchief. "Why, deal‘? Did Lance upset you?"

Betty Jane shook her head vehe- mently. Why did mother always think her brother was to blame for

"Gosh, you look wonderful like this!"

her tears’! Grown women never cried over their brothers! "It's what Lance saw, not what he did," Betty said in a burst of confidence. As her mother waited she continued urretchedly. "He saw Woody buy- ing a bottle of cologne. Cologne, mother, imagine! He was so glib when he told me I looked cute in jeans and now he's tvzo-timing me with some fiuffy female who actually uses cologne! Oh. how can men be so beastly?"

“Darling, ho\v do you know the cologne isn't for you? Maybe Woody thinks you've outgrown your jeans."

"He knows what I think pf these pink and white girls who use that horrible concoction! He wouldn't dare get me any. And besides, I al- ready told him I wanted roller skates for Christmas. . . . I have to be ready for the new rink that's open- ing next month, don't l’! I thought Woody and I would be going togeth- cr, but now that's all over." She threw her arms around her mother and cried tragically, "Oh, mother, I'll ncixer smile again! I definitely won't."

This time Mrs. Miller smiled over her daughter's head. She well rec- ognized the stage Betty Jane was going through and decided she must take a hand. "You're sure the co- logne wouldn't be for a sister or a cousin?"

“He hasn't a female in the family, and his mother never uses it, so who else could it possibly be for? I'll bet it's for Estelle Bryan. All the other fellows like her but Woody used to say she was too fragile. Oh, mother, how he's deceived me!"

ER mother arose. "Well, dry your eyes, Betty, dear. It's Christmas Eve and you want to be happy today. Woody will probably come over with your roller skates to- night and we'll surprise him. If he likes fragile girls, he'll get one."

Betty Jane sat up straight. "Mother. no! Not that horrible blue dress you bought me!

"You wash up and put that dress on, Betty.

"Well wait for you downstairs." With that, Mrs. Miller closed the door on her tomboy daughter and hurried downstairs. As she reached the bottom step the doorbell rang and she admitted Woody Anderson, a lanky boy with unruly red hair and freckles marching in perfect for- mation over the bridge of his nose. He was clutching a box, obviously containing the roller skates request- ed by Betty Jane.

"She'll be right down," Mrs. Mill- s; informed him, then left him elm fir the surprise.

It came a half-hour later when Betty Jane made her appearance. The blue dress looked even better than she had hoped it would.

"Gosh, Betty Jane!" Woody con- tributed to the conversation. The smile broadened. "For me. Woody?" she asked, nodding toward the box. "ls it cologne? LSIICCjBW you buying some." So casual, so indifferent.

"Uh-gosh, no, Betty Jane. Gee, you asked for skates and I got them for you. I bought cologne for Miss Lindsay, the English teacher that helped me with my essay for that

"How sweet of you." She stepped down into the living room and sc- cepted the bu: from Woody. "Thank you," she said gravely. “Yours is under the tree."

, "Gas, I didn't think I'd ever like you dressed up as a rl, Betty," the gulped. “Estelle loo ed so awful iand I was proud to have you run tsround with ms in blue jeans, but,

.go|h. you look wonderful like thisi"!

FOIMII HUNTING GROUND

In the 13th century the Hague was merely a hunting estate for the counts of Holland.

W <

_ By DANIEL F. LINDSAY (KALLY O'NEIL walked slowly up the front steps. Her mother [watched her from behind the cur- itain. Being five years old and having a problem had her near tears. She reached up on tip toes and opened ‘the door. i "Kally, honey. Come in here a] lminutc." Kally pushed the hood of Iher snow suit back and went into the living room. ‘ "What do you want, Mommief" She shook her blonde curls free. l

"Oh, nothing much," her mother’ ‘smiled. "I just want to know why my little girl looks so said?" .

"Well, hlommie," she slipped her coat ofi‘, “it's that girl down the street.”

"Yes, dear, what about her?"

Kally could stand it no longer. She burst into tears and running over laid her head on her mother's lap. "That girl says," she subbed, "that Ilere isn't any Santa Claus."

“Well, now," her mother leaned down and gently bit the tip of her ear, "who'd ever believe a tale like that?"

“You don't believe her?"

. "Of course not," she smiled down into the worried blue eyes. "We know there's a Santa Claus."

“B-but she said Daddy was him."

"Oh, pooh. Sit down there on the floor and I'll help you get your snow pants off."

"We could ask Daddy," Kally sug- gestcd.

"Yes, vxe could," she had an in- spiration. "Better still we can wait until tomorrow night and see for ourselves."

"We can?" she sat up in surprise.

"Sure. You go to bed just like always, thcn when he comes I'll wake you up."

"Santa “as just coming out."

She got up from the floor all ex-; cited. "You mean we can peek?"

"That's just what we'll do."

"George," she turned to her hus- band that evening after Kelly had been put to bed, “our daughter has quite a problem.”

"Women always have problems," he smiled over his newspaper. "Vifhat is it this time?"

"She knows about Santa.”

“That's too bad," he pursed his lips, "but ivhat can we do?"

"Got someone to put her toys un- dor the tree while she watches."

"Sure," he laid the paper down, "why couldn't I do it?"

“She heard that you are Santa."

lie chuckled. “She isn't the only woman in the family who thinks that."

"It-low about Bob Perkins?" she ignored his attempt at humor. "He's the right build."

“Okay," lie agreed, “l'll arrann it in the morning."

“Kallyfl liCl‘ mother shook her gently, “Santa is downstairs.”

"He is?" she sat up rubbing her‘ eyes, "HE IS?!"

“Okoy," she slipped out of bed and into her slippers. In the early morn- ing light she looked like a tiny blond e

"Put on your robe."

SHE got it and tool: hcr mother's hand. They crept down the stairs. Mommie held ier back while she made sure Santa wasn't smoking a cigar. He was placing gifts around the tree. She motioned her to look. Kelly peeked around the corner with big eyes. Then her head darted back.

"Where's daddy?" she asked in a stage whisper.

They heard footsteps m the stairs. Daddy crept down. Kelly peeked around the corner again. Santa was just coming out with en army bar- racks bag over his" shoulder. The three of them ran and hid behind the staircase. As soon as the front door slammed Kelly was up the steps like a shot. -

"Hey, Sweetheart," Daddy called after her, "he left the toys in the living room." He stopped as he heard his wife's laughter.

"What's the matter with her?" he glared at her suspiciously. “Doesn't she like the little tike?"

"I'm afraid, dear, that you'll new‘

er understand the feminine mind."

"What do you mean . . . where's _. I

'she going?" - i "To get he!‘ coat." "Her coat . . . why?"

“She's going down the street to‘

tell the little girl that she's all wet.

‘Because she has lust seen Santa in

.her front room." <

TR EMENINIITS ARIA

Brazil occupies nearly half‘ the area of all South America, being more titan 3,275,000 square miles in size_

REUNION (KT

CHRISTMAS

By HELEN PETBONE

YJANET opened the 'door to her

apartment, thinking as she did so that it had been only a week since Craig and she had shared this apart- ment they called their "ivory tow- er," named that because of its odd shape. It had been a storage room until the housing shortage became prevalent. Then old Mrs. Root, feel- ing sympathetic toward the plight of Janet and Craig Norris, newly mar- ried and homeless, had cleared it out, partitioned it of’! into two small rooms and rented it to them.

That was just 13 months ago, Janet remembered, dropping her gloves on the table and lighting the lamp with the same gesture. They had been married only three weeks, just long enough to realize they were impos- ing on Craig's family who were cramped for quarters themselves.

Just a week ago they had the quarrel that had sent Craig from

the apartment. It had been a blow '.

"She sat down st the window and looked nut at the dark star-less sky.”

to his pride from the day of their‘ wedding that Janet should continue; working. She enjoyed her position in the advertising firm where she had risen from a clerk to copy‘ writer in just two years. Since she‘ left the house after Craig in the, morning and returned before him at, night, she never felt her working in- terfcred in any way with her house- ;hold duties. But friends had spoiled ‘everything with their snide remarks about "poor Janet still working,"

' and it was more than Craig could

Bear. “They think I can't support 'ou!" he'd storm at her, but the more he pleaded the more adamant she had become. And now he

gone.

i The whole thing seemed so un-

important now. She glanced at the telephone, half-inclined to call him ‘home, but her own recalcitrant na- ture refused to allow such a move. She turnei on the radio instead and ‘pretended the tears that welled in her eyes at the strains of “Silent Night" were merely tears of weari- vness after the preparation of the office party that morning. Delib- erately she opened the dresser draw- er to put away last night's ironing. Her souvenir box loomed temptingly before her. Lifting the cover, she stared at the items she had collect- ed: Craig's class ring, exchanged for a diamond after their gradua- tion from college; a pressed orchid, one of those she had carried at her wedding; various cards, Christmas. anniversary, birthday, valentine. She picked up a small gift card and read again, "To my dear wife. Janet, on our first Christmas." It was the card with the watch he had given her last year.

REMBLING, she closed the box and turned quickly from the dresser. She had been a fool, she decided. Without Craig, Christmas could never hold the same meaning for her as it once had. She didn't stop to lock the door for there was nothing of value anyone could steal from her. Even her $100 Christmas bonus lying on the table went un- noticed. The one thing she must not lose was happiness, and that was no longer in her home with Craig gone. She hurried into her coat as she started breathlessly down the 3% fiights of stairs. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she prayed with fan- atic zest that she was not too late. As she reached the last flight d stairs, she crashed into s figure who was hurrying up, as oblivious of his surroundings as she. She gasped at the impact, but the man quick- ly regained his balance and caught her before she could fall. "Janet!" he cried.

. She looked at him almost in dis-

belief. Then, throwing her arms about him she gave full vent to her tears. “Oh, Craig! Darling.) was just coming for you." l I-Ie kissed her and held her tight- ly. "Janet, I've been such s fool. -I didn't realize until tonight what an ‘awful thing pride can be. Will you ever forgive me?" ', She sighed. "There's nothing to forgive, Craig. I was the one who was wrong. I'm going to. quit my ‘job right sway." , "No, youmustrft. I don't want to deprive you,of any happiness snd ‘if you want to work, I'm not going to stop you."

She laughed sbskily. "We'll ar- ilgue that out later, shell we!"

Arm in arm they climbed up the stairs.

LUISII CONTRIBUTION

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Atistrslls has contributed almost 3004100000 in world relief approp- riations since U.N.R.R.A. began.

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By LYN CONNELL! . HE sharp wind lashed furiously 1 about Larry's head snd shoul-- ‘ders, flirting momentarily with the ‘jdea of sending his brown fedora ‘spiraling down tho street, but he ‘sensed its capricious tendencies and held the brim of his hat tightly be- tween his forefinger and thumb as he ran toward his car parked on the opposite corner.

It would be the last time he'd best that particular path, he thought grimly. It was Christmas Eve and everybody was in a gay and antici- patory mood. Everybody, that is, except Larry. He had been reason- ably happy until that morning when the whole world seemed to have crashed about him. Opening the door of the car, he slid in behind the wheel and started it toward home.

The face of Silas Henning, until fifteen minutes ago his boss, came to his mind and again he heard the words that he dreaded to repeat to

_Rosine: "I know you're not happy -in your work, Larry, and it's not fair to either one of us when you don't put your best efforts into what you're doing. I think, therefore, that you'd better go elsewhere for a job. Today's as good a day as any to sever connections."

Fired on Christmas Eve! Of course, what Henning had said was true. Larry wasn't happy being a bookkeeper at Morrison's appliance shop. He had always yearned to be a writer, and wrote numerous short stories during his spare time. '

When Rosinc told him of their ex- pected second child he had taken the job at Morrison's through sheer desperation. No longer could they live on their savings. He considered the job as temporary, but it had

lie picked up the letier nt the same time she answered, "Truth magazine."

lasted seven months with still no prospects of entering the field he desired. lienuing had seemed sym- pathetic, although he had cooled suddenly the past week. Perhaps in his daydreaming he had been inac- curate in his figures. At least Hen- ning spared him any embarrassment if that were the cr-to. but he could have waited until after the holidays to fire him. "And Bob Cratchit thought he worked for Scrooge," he mumbled, pulling up before his house.

HIS feet dragged as he trudged toward the door. lie mustn't tell her tonight, he decided. l-le hoped he was capable of carrying off an sct until the day after Christmas. Open- ing the door, ho lct himself in as unobtrusively as possible. Rosina was on a step ladder in the living room, decorating the tree, while Chuckie, aged five, sat on the floor, sgog at the proceedings.

"Hello, darling." his wife called out gaily. He tried to equal the hap- piness in her voice as he replied, then kissed Chuckie and started for the kitchen.

"There's a letter for ‘you on the radio,” Rosina said.

"From ivhom?" His heart leaped hopefully at her words and he hur- ried toward the radio. He picked up the letter at the same time she sn- swered, "Truth magazine."

It was from Truth. His hand trem- bled as he opened it. “Dear Mr. Shannon," he read aloud. "Our mu- tual friend, Silas Henning, recently submitted one of your articles for our consideration. We believe it shows promise and since we were ‘given s splendid recommendation by Mr. Henning, we are writing to ask if you would be interested in s job in our editorial department. If so, call for an interview this week."

The telephone was ringing, but for a moment, Larry and Rosina merely stood as though mute, star- ing at each other. Larry became conscious of the bell first and picked

up the receiver. It was Mr. HCIP‘

ning, laughing heartily. “Bet I had you worried, eh, Larry?"

“Mr. Henningi I didn't know . . . how did you. . ." Larry was

‘tongue-tied. Rosina walked to his‘

; side, putting one arm gently about his shoulder.

"I found that article you wrote on; your son and the atomic age and‘ gent it in to Asherton," Henning ex-I

‘plsined. “He's a good friend of mine snd editor of Truth. Well, I won't hold you, Larry. Just wanted to wish you s merry Christians."

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Hen- nin ," Larry ssld es the telephone clic ed at the other end. "Merry Christmas-and thanks for the best one I've over had."

TINY PIINCIPALITY

The principality of Monaco, where the town of Monte Carlo is situated, is only three miles long and 1% miles wide.

‘i ‘i l" l" »‘Iis:Ill:lliillililll"mm

By DANIEL I‘. LINDSAY

M LARKIN opened the kitchen l! door. His wife looked up with s hopeful smile as he entered. He just ‘shook his head.

"No mail at all?" she said as she went on fixing dinner.

‘-‘Oh, there were a couple of ads and a bill from the seed company." "He hung his hat on e hook and jcrossed to the pump. His white ;hair was damp around his face when ,' he straightened up again.

"It's just not like Bill," she sighed.

"Bill's got an unforgivin’ streak, i always did have, even when he was a little teller." Pa's old brlar gave off a pungent odor as he lit it.

“But this is different, Tom." she said, putting a pan of! biscuits in the oven, "tomorrow is Christmas. It's a long way to the coast. Maybe he wrote but didn't mail it in time."

"Ma," his tired old voice was filled with bitterness, "there's no

\

"She could see Pa striding into the living room."

need to stick pins in yourself by hopiu’. Christmas or no Christmas . . . that boy is still mad."

The old lady's eyes shone with faith. "He might stay mad all year long but when Christmas comes . . . he'll uYritc. I know. I'm his Ma."

"Don't forget." Tom said as he blew smoke at the ceiling. His eyes crinkled all the corners, “I'm his father." v

"Dinners ready, Pa," she said, filled with a deep longing and fought to keep the tears out of tier voice.

"I c‘n understand that boy still bcin’ mad at me, but ivhy does he have to take it out on you?"

"You're wrong, Tom," Ma replied as she lifted her head and smiled. “The day after Christmas, first de-

livery, we'll get a letter. You'll see"

"Not from him," he shook his head grimly.

"You're forgettin’ Judy," she re- minded him as they sat down. "She's a good daughter-in-law."

"Oh. I'm not blamin’ her," reply- ing os he covered his biscuits with gravy, “Judy's a fine girl. It's his bull headed pride."

She got up and taking the coflee pot off the-cook stove filled his cup. They ate on in silence. Finally he pushed his plate back.

"You aren't eatin’ much," he

scolded.

"I'm just not hungry, Pa."

"I see," he stood up. "l'm goin’ out and turn the heater on in the hen house. It'll be cold tonight." His old shoulders slumped forward as he went outside. She shook her head and started picking up the dishes. Her mind sank beck into the past. To the days when Christ- mas was alive with the excitement and laughter of young voices. She could see Pa striding into the liv- ing room bearing a largo evergreen on his shoulder. Behind him there was always a highly excited little boy, bearing an axe. She wondered if the little boy ever thought of it.