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STUDENTS' PUBLICATION
OF STETSON UNIVERSITY.
VOL. XXIII
DE LAND, FLA., THURSDAY, MARCH 2, 1911.
No. 17
JUDGES AWARD SECOND
PRIZE OF TEN DOLLARS
TO A. R. PHILLIPS.
Owing to the lack of real work and
the dearth of good material the judges
have only awarded the second prize
in the Short Story Contest. Mr.
Phillips story will be published in an
early number. This week we present
a story by one of the contestants,
that received honorable mention.
CUPID—SANTA CLAUS.
By. E. J. Smith.
"Nan, how do you spell pistol?"
asked Tommy who was absorbed in
writing a letter to his parton, Saint
Nicholas.
" P-i-s-t-o-1, pistol. What do you
want with a pistol?" questioned Nan.
"Aw, I want to kill Indians, and
bears, and tigers, and lions ."
Here Tommy's voice trailed off into
silence. Whether this was due to
lack of material or breath, it would
be hard to tell.
My goodness, Tommy, you are
certainly growing bloodthirsty," his
sister laughed.
Tommy, with a sniff of contempt
for his sister's opinion of the coming
Rooseveltian slaughter, slowly scrawled
down the word.
There was silence for a few minutes,
then Tommy threw down his pencil
with a sigh of relief and satisfaction.
"Now I guess Santy will know what
I want, all right," he said.
"Let me read it to you dear, and see
if you have forgotten anything," said
Nan.
Tommy reluctantly surrendered the
letter, and Nan read the following
message: "Dere Santy plese bring
me a gunn, a sord, a pistol, and lots
of oranges, apels, and penutts. Tommy."
With a smile for the somewhat
original spelling, Nan gave the letter
to Tommy and said: "Well, it seems
that everything is here. Now put
it in the fireplace so Santy can find
it when he pays you a visit tonight."
Tommy agreed to this and put the
letter in the huge, oldfashioned fireplace. A sudden draught of air caught
the paper and whirled it up out of
sight.
"Look, Nannie, the letter has gone
and Santy won't see it," cried Tommy,
as he saw his precious document vanishing.
"Yes he will, dear. He will find it
alright."
Toran.y was soothed and persuaded
to retire after a long argument in
which his sister told him the various
stories of bad little boys and Santa
Claus. Tommy, convinced of his wickedness, hugged sister and liberally
besprinkled her with repentant tears,
when she Idssed him good night.
Nan did not follow her brother's
example and go to bed, but remained
up for a long time afterwards, gazing
into the fire and listening to the regular
and monotonous ticks of the big clock
in the hall.
It was a beautiful night. The moon
hung high in the heavens softening
and transforming the stern outline
of Winter with the brilliance of her
light into a fairy world. The stars
twinkled happily as if they were thinking of that famous night many years
ago when a Savior was born into this
world.
All this was lost to Dick Sanders,
who was driving slowly along the road.
His mind was filled with thoughts of
the quarrel which threatened to make
his Christmas one of gloom. It was
just three days ago that he and Nan
had quarrelled. He could recall every
incident, every word of it. In his
fancy he saw the look on her face when
she gave him his ring, he heard his
hasty and angry reply, but now when
his anger was passed away, he saw
that he was as much to blame as she.
He had started to drive to town,
but somehow his horse had brought
him into the road in front of Nan's
house. This was a good half mile
from the road to town, and whe n he
woke up from his gloomy thoughts
and discovered this he chucked to his
horse and turned off to the main
road.
As the buggy turned, a slip of paper
fluttered in front of him as if undecided what to do and then dropped
into his lap. He stared at it for a
moment, and then took it in his hands.
As he read the words written on it,
his face suddenly lighted up with
an inspriation.
"By Jove! I'll do it," he cried, slapping his knee.
Half an hour later he arrived in
town and began his preperations.
The clock was striking one. Nan,
who was still sitting in front of the
fire, awoke from her dreams, and
realized that she ought to be in bed.
Taking the lamp she climbed the
stairs to her room.
Dick, who had been patiently waiting outside for an hour or so, gave an
exclamation of relief when he saw
the light go out. He crept cautiously
up to the back porch and examined
the kitchen window. It was unlocked, and in no time he and his burden were inside.
Dick was now on familiar ground.
He knew the house as well as he knew
his own; but man often comes to
grief when he least expects it. Dick
tiptoeing through the dark room came
in contact with a chair. He stood
still for a moment, his heart beating
furiously and his shins smarting. At
length, having heard no noise, he
continued his journey and began to
arrange the presents.
Nan, who had been vainly trying
to sleep heard the chair fall when
Dick ran into it and jumped up.
Pshaw, its nothing but the cat,"
she murmered, trying to calm her
jumping nerves. Then she remem-
