Colonel Crocketts Co-operative Christmas | Page 4

he was a valued witness,
was postponed by the referee--or deferee--till after the holidays. The
Colonel saw himself confronted with another Christmas far away from
any of his people. The first two days he spent in violent profanity, and
in declining invitations which he received from business acquaintances
to share their homes. Then he set out to make the occasion memorable.
Once more we may leave the account to him.

LETTER TWO
New York, N. Y., Dec. 28, 1905.
FRIEND WIFE:
Well, I've been and went and gone and done it! And golly, but it was
fun--barring wishing you and the little ones had of been here, too. Next
year we'll arrange it so, for I'm going to do it again. You remember
Artemus Ward's man who "had been dead three weeks and liked it."
Well, that's me. This camping out in New York is getting to be a habit.
I'm sending you a bundle of newspaper clippings as big as a
stovepipe--all about Yours Truly.
As soon as I saw that circumstances had organized a pool to corner me
and my Christmases, I spent a couple of days sending up rain-making
language. Then I settled down to work like a bronco does to harness
after kicking off the dashboard and snapping a couple of traces.
"If I've got to be alone this Christmas," I says to myself, "I'll make it
the gol-blamedest, crowdedest solitude ever heard of this side of the
River."
I looked for the biggest place in town under one roof. Madison Square
Garden was it. You remember it. We was there to the Horse

Show--so-called. You recollect, I reckon, that the Garden holds right
smart of people. At a political meeting once they got 14,000 people into
it, and there was still room for Grover Cleveland to stand and make a
speech.
Well, feeling kind o' flush and recklesslike, I decided to go and see the
manager, or janitor, or whatever he is. And go I did. I says to him:
"Could I rent your cute little shack for one evening--Christmas night?"
"Certainly, sir," he says. "There happens to be nothing doing this
Christmas."
"How much would it set me back?" I says very polite.
"Only one thousand plunks," says he smiling.
"But, my dear Gaston," I says with a low bow, "I don't want to buy
your little Noah's Ark for the baby. I only want to borrow it for one
evening."
"One thou. is our bargain-counter limit," he says. "I couldn't make it
less for the poor old Czar of Rooshy."
I kind o' hesitated, remembering the time when a thousand dollars
would have kept me comfortable for about three years. It's hard to get
over the habit of counting your change. Then Mr. Janitor, seeing me
kind o' groggy, says, a little less polite:
"If that's more than you care to pay for a single room you can get a cot
for five cents on the Bowery; for a quarter you can get a whole suite."
[Illustration: "ONLY ONE THOUSAND PLUNKS," SAYS HE]
That riled me. I flashed a wad of bills on him that made his eyes look
like two automobile lamps. He could see it wasn't Confederate money,
either. Then I shifted my cigar to detract attention while I swallowed
my Adam's apple, and I says:
"I was only hesitating, my boy, because I wondered if your nice young

Garden would be big enough. You haven't got a couple more to rent at
the same price?"
He wilted and caved in like a box of ice cream does just before you get
home with it. Then he began to bow lower, and we cut for a new deal.
He took the lead.
He says what might I be wanting to use the Garden for?
"Oh, I won't bulge the walls or strain the floor," I says. "I only want it
for a Christmas tree. I am going to invite my friends to a little party."
"Whew, but you must be popular!" he says. "Who the dickens are you?
Brother Teddy, or Mother Eddy?"
"I'm Colonel D. Austin Crockett, of Waco," I says as meek as I could.
"Pleased to meet you, Colonel," he says. "What you running
for?--District Attorney? Or are you starting a new Mutual Benefit Life
Assassination?"
"Neither," I says; "I'm a stranger in New York."
"But these friends of yours?" he gasped. "Is all Waco coming up here
on an excursion? Is the town going to move bodily?"
"Mr. Prosecutor," I says, "if you'll stop cross-examining a minute, and
let me tell how it all happened, it will save right smart of time. I am a
stranger here to about four million people. They are strangers to me.
We ought to know each other. So I'm going to give