The Christmas Angel | Page 3

I will drop some of these old toys out on
the sidewalk and see what happens. It may be interesting."
CHAPTER II
JACK-IN-THE-BOX
Miss Terry rose and crossed two rooms to the front window, looking
out upon the street. A flare of light almost blinded her eyes. Every
window opposite her along the block, as far as she could see, was
illuminated with a row of lighted candles across the sash. The soft,
unusual glow threw into relief the pretty curtains and wreaths of green,
and gave glimpses of cosy interiors and flitting happy figures.
"What a waste of candles!" scolded Miss Terry. "Folks are growing
terribly extravagant."
The street was white with snow which had fallen a few hours earlier,
piled in drifts along the curb of the little-traveled terrace. But the
sidewalks were neatly shoveled and swept clean, as became the

eminently respectable part of the city where Miss Terry lived. A long
flight of steps, with iron railing at the side, led down from the front
door, upon which a silver plate had for generations in decorous
flourishes announced the name of Terry.
Miss Terry returned to the play box and drew out between thumb and
finger the topmost toy. It happened to be a wooden box, with a wire
hasp for fastening the cover. Half unconsciously she pressed the spring,
and a hideous Jack-in-the-box sprang out to confront her with a squeak,
a leering smile, and a red nose. Miss Terry eyed him with disfavor.
"I always did hate that thing," she said. "Tom was continually
frightening me with it, I remember." As if to be rid of unwelcome
memories she shut her mouth tight, even as she shut Jack back into his
box, snapping the spring into place. "This will do to begin with," she
thought. She crossed to the window, which she opened quickly, and
tossed out the box, so that it fell squarely in the middle of the sidewalk.
Then closing the window and turning down the lights in the room
behind her, Miss Terry hid in the folds of the curtain and watched to
see what would happen to Jack.
The street was quiet. Few persons passed on either side. At last she
spied two little ragamuffins approaching. They seemed to be Jewish
lads of the newsboy class, and they eyed the display of candles
appraisingly. The smaller boy first caught sight of the box in the middle
of the sidewalk.
"Hello! Wot's dis?" he grunted, making a dash upon it.
"Gee! Wot's up?" responded the other, who was instantly at his elbow.
"Gwan! Lemme look at it."
The smaller boy drew away and pressed the spring of the box eagerly.
_Ping!_ Out popped the Jack into his astonished face; whereupon he set
up a guffaw.
"Give it here!" commanded the bigger boy.

"Naw! You let it alone! It's mine!" asserted the other, edging away
along the curbstone. "I saw it first. You can't have it."
"Give it here. I saw it first myself. Hand it over, or I'll smash you!"
The bigger boy advanced threateningly.
"I won't!" the other whimpered, clasping the box tightly under his
jacket.
He started to run, but the bigger fellow was too quick for him. He
pounced across the sidewalk, and soon the twain were struggling in the
snowdrift, pummeling one another with might and main.
"I told you so!" commented Miss Terry from behind the curtain.
"Here's the first show of the beautiful Christmas spirit that is supposed
to be abroad. Look at the little beasts fighting over something that
neither of them really wants!"
Just then Miss Terry spied a blue-coated figure leisurely approaching.
At the same moment an instinct seemed to warn the struggling urchins.
"Cop!" said a muffled voice from the pile of arms and legs, and in an
instant two black shadows were flitting down the street; but not before
the bigger boy had wrenched the box from the pocket of the little chap.
"So that is the end of experiment number one," quoth Miss Terry,
smiling grimly. "It happened just about as I expected. They will be
fighting again as soon as they are out of sight. They are Jews; but that
doesn't make any difference about the Christmas spirit. Now let's see
what becomes of the next experiment."
CHAPTER III
THE FLANTON DOG
She returned to the play box by the fire, and rummaged for a few
minutes among the tangled toys. Then with something like a chuckle

she drew out a soft, pale creature with four wobbly legs.
"The Flanton Dog!" she said. "Well, I vow! I had forgotten all about
him. It was Tom who coined the name for him because he was made of
Canton flannel."
She stood the thing up on the table as well as his weak