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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=us-ascii" />
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of
+    Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas,
+    by Rupert Hughes
+</title>
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas, by 
+Rupert Hughes
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas
+
+Author: Rupert Hughes
+
+Release Date: September 21, 2007 [EBook #22696]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CO-OPERATIVE CHRISTMAS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div style="height: 50px;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0001"></a>
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/fcover.jpg" style="border: 1px solid green;"
+     alt="(Front Cover) COL. CROCKETT'S CO-OPERATIVE CHRISTMAS RUPERT HUGHES" />
+</div>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>--> <div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0003"></a>
+
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/halftitle.png" alt="(Half Title) Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas" />
+</div>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>--> <div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>--> <div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0004"></a>
+<div class="fig_block">
+<a href="images/f0008.jpg"><img src="images/frontis.jpg"
+     alt="Last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas dinner in a deserted restaurant" /></a>
+<br />
+Last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas dinner in a deserted restaurant
+</div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0005"></a>
+<div class="figure" style="background-color: #e4cda4; border: 1px solid gray;">
+<a href="images/f0009.jpg"><img src="images/otitle.jpg"
+     alt="Illustrated Title Page" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<a name="h2H_4_0001" id="h2H_4_0001"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class="page_block">
+
+<h1>
+Colonel<br />
+Crockett's<br />
+Co-operative<br />
+Christmas
+</h1>
+
+<h2>
+By<br />
+Rupert Hughes
+</h2>
+
+<p class="center">
+Philadelphia and London<br />
+George W Jacobs and Company
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<!-- <p> [Verso Page] </p> -->
+
+<p class="center">
+ <small>
+ COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY <br />
+ GEORGE W. JACOBS &amp; COMPANY <br />
+ <i>Published September, 1906</i> <br />
+ </small>
+</p>
+<p class="center">
+ <small>
+ <i>All rights reserved</i> <br />
+ <i>Printed in U. S. A.</i>
+ </small>
+</p>
+
+<a name="h2H_ILL" id="h2H_ILL"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-000a"></a>
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0011a.png"
+     alt="Illustrations" />
+</div>
+
+<table summary="List of Illustrations" style="padding: 3%;" align="center">
+<tr><td valign="bottom">  Last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas dinner in a deserted restaurant </td><td class="r" valign="bottom" width="25%"><a href="#image-0004"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="bottom">  As blue as all the swear words ever swore                                          </td><td class="r" valign="bottom"><i>Facing page</i><br /><a href="#image-0015">14</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="bottom">  He said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs on me                          </td><td class="r" valign="bottom"><a href="#image-0019">18</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="bottom">  "Only one thousand plunks," says he                                                </td><td class="r" valign="bottom"><a href="#image-0039">40</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="bottom">  James J. James, Publicity Expert                                                   </td><td class="r" valign="bottom"><a href="#image-0048">48</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign="bottom">  Old Miss Samanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph                </td><td class="r" valign="bottom"><a href="#image-0061">60</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<a name="image-000b"></a>
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0011b.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+<img src="images/0013.png" width="200" height="223" alt="Foreword" />
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page9" name="page9"></a>[9]</span>
+
+<a name="h2H_FORE" id="h2H_FORE"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<img src="images/0010a.png" width="148" height="33" alt="Foreword" style="margin-bottom: 2em;" />
+
+<!--<h2>Foreword</h2>-->
+
+<img src="images/0010b.png" width="79" height="319" alt="envelopes" style="float:left; clear: left; margin-bottom: 3em; margin-right: 1em;" />
+
+<p style="margin: 0px 25px 0px 35px;" >
+<img src="images/cap-o.png" alt="O" style="float:left;" />
+f all the strange gatherings that have distinguished Madison Square
+Garden, the strangest was probably on the occasion, last Christmas,
+when the now well-known Colonel D. A. Crockett, of Waco, rented the vast
+auditorium for one thousand dollars, and threw it open to the public.
+As he is going to do it again this coming Christmas, an account of
+the con-, in-, and re-ception of his scheme may interest some of the
+thousands who find themselves every Christmas in the Colonel's plight.
+My plan to describe it was frustrated by the receipt, from his wife,
+of three letters
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page10" name="page10"></a>[10]</span>
+
+                 he wrote her. It seems only fair, then, that the author
+of an achievement which is likely to become an institution should be
+allowed to be the author of its history. I shall, therefore, content
+myself with publishing verbatim two of the Colonel's own letters.
+</p>
+<p class="right">
+<span class="sc">Rupert Hughes</span>
+</p>
+
+<img src="images/0010c.png" width="365" height="120" alt="envelopes" style="clear: both;" />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page11" name="page11"></a>[11]</span>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0011"></a>
+<img src="images/0017.png" width="200" height="223" alt="Letter One" />
+
+<!--<h2>LETTER ONE</h2>-->
+
+<div class="blank">
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page12" name="page12"></a>[12]</span>
+<br /></div>
+
+<a name="h2H_4_0003" id="h2H_4_0003"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page13" name="page13"></a>[13]</span>
+
+<!--<p>Col. Crockett's Co-operative Christmas</p>-->
+
+<p class="right">
+<i>New York, N. Y., Dec. 26, 1904.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Friend Wife</span>:
+</p>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0019a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 88px; height: 400px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0019b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 194px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+The miserablest night I ever spent in all my born days&mdash;the solitariest,
+with no seconds&mdash;was sure this identical Christmas night in New York
+City. And I've been some lonesome, too, in my time.
+</p>
+<p>
+I've told you how, as a boy, I shipped before the mast&mdash;the wrong
+mast&mdash;and how the old tub bumped a reef and went down with all
+hands&mdash;and feet&mdash;except mine. You remember me telling how I grabbed
+aholt of a large wooden box and floated on to a dry spot. It knocked the
+wind out of my stummick considerable, but I hung on kind of unconscious
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page14" name="page14"></a>[14]</span>
+
+till the tide went out. When I come to, I looked round to see where
+in Sam Hill I was at, and found I was on a little pinhead of an island
+about the size a freckle would be on the moon. All around was mostly
+sky, excepting for what was water. And me with nothing to drink it with!
+</p>
+<p>
+I set down hard on the box and felt as blue as all the swear words ever
+swore. There was nothing in sight to eat, and that made me so hungry
+that me and the box fell over backward. As I laid there sprawled out,
+with my feet up on the box, I looked between my knees and read them
+beautiful words, "Eat Buggins'
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page15" name="page15"></a>[15]</span>
+
+Biscuit," in plain sight before me on
+the end of the box.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0015"></a>
+<div class="fig_block">
+<a href="images/f0021.jpg"><img src="images/0021.jpg" width="350" height="490"
+     alt="As blue as all the swear words ever swore" /></a>
+<br />
+As blue as all the swear words ever swore
+</div>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0020a.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 85px; height: 407px;"></div>
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0020b.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 365px; height: 186px; clear:left;"></div>
+
+<p>
+Well, me and friend Buggins inhabited that place&mdash;about as big as one
+of Man Friday's footprints&mdash;for going on four weeks. When tide was in,
+I held the box on my head to keep my powder dry. 'Long toward the end of
+my visit, just before the ship that saved me hove in sight, I began to
+feel a mite tired of that place. I kind o' felt as if I'd saw about all
+that was int'resting on that there island. I thought I was unhappy and I
+had a sneaking idea I was lonesome. But I see I was mistaken. I hadn't
+spent a Christmas night alone in a big city then.
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page16" name="page16"></a>[16]</span>
+
+<p>
+Then once when I was prospecting for our mine, I was snowed up in a
+pass. I reckon I've told you how I got typhoid fever and wrestled it
+out all day by my lonesome; unparalleled thirst, Boston baked brains,
+red flannel tongue, delirium dreamins, and self-acting emetic, down
+to the final blissful "Where am I at?" and on through the nice long
+convalescence till my limbs changed from twine strings to human members.
+Six weeks doing time as doctor, patient, trained nurse and fellow-Mason
+all in one, was being alone right smart. But it wasn't a patch on the
+little metrolopis of Manhattan on Santy Claus day.
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page17" name="page17"></a>[17]</span>
+
+<p>
+Then once I had a rather unrestful evening out in the western part
+of Texas. A fellow sold me a horse right cheap, and later a crowd
+of gentlemen accused me of stealing it, and I was put in jail with a
+promise of being lynched before breakfast. That was being uncomfortable
+some, too. But I wished last night that my friend, Judge Watson, hadn't
+come along that night and identified me. It would have saved me from
+New Yorkitis.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0025a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 88px; height: 396px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0025b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 189px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+Then there was the night when I proposed for your hand and you sent me
+to your pa, and he said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs on
+me. I spent that night at a safe
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page18" name="page18"></a>[18]</span>
+
+                                 distance from the dogs, leaning on a
+fence, and not noticing it was barb wire till I looked at my clothes and
+my hide next day. I watched your windows till the light went out and all
+my hope with it&mdash;and on after that till, as the poet says, till daylight
+doth appear.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then there's the time I told you about, when&mdash;but there's no use of
+making a catalog of every time I've been lonesome. I have taken my pen
+in hand to inform you that last night beat everything else on my private
+list of troubles. My other lonely times was when I was alone, but the
+lonesomest of all was in the heart of the biggest crowd on this here
+continent.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0019"></a>
+<div class="fig_block">
+<a href="images/f0027.jpg"><img src="images/0027.jpg" width="350" height="490"
+     alt="He said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs on me" /></a>
+<br />
+He said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs on me
+</div>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page19" name="page19"></a>[19]</span>
+
+<img src="images/0026a.png" style="float:left; clear:left; margin-right: 5px;" alt="" />
+
+<p>
+There was people a-plenty. But I didn't know one gol-darned galoot. I
+had plenty of money, but nobody to spend it on&mdash;except tiptakers. I was
+stopping at this big hotel with lugsury spread over everything, thicker
+than sorghum on corn pone. But lonely&mdash;why, honey, I was so lonely that,
+as I walked along the streets, I felt as if I'd like to break into some
+of the homes and compel 'em at the point of my gun to let me set in and
+dine with 'em.
+</p>
+<p>
+I felt like asking one of the bell-boys to take me home and get his ma
+to give me a slice of goose and let her talk to me about her folks.
+</p>
+
+<img src="images/0026b.png" style="clear:both;" alt="" />
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0031a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 88px; height: 404px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0031b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 185px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+There was some four million people
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page20" name="page20"></a>[20]</span>
+
+                              in a space about the size of our ranch.
+There was theatres to go to&mdash;but who wants to go to the theatre on
+Christmas?&mdash;it's like going to church on the Fourth of July. There were
+dime muzhums, penny vawdevilles, dance-halls.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was a big dinner for news-boys. The Salvation Army and the
+Volunteers gave feeds to the poor. But I couldn't qualify. I wasn't
+poor. I had no home, no friends, no nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+The streets got deserteder and deserteder. A few other wretches was
+marooned like me in the hotel corridors. We looked at each other like
+sneak-thieves patroling the same
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page21" name="page21"></a>[21]</span>
+
+                                   street. Waiters glanced at us pitiful
+as much as to say, "If it wasn't for shrimps like you, I'd be home with
+my kids."
+</p>
+<p>
+The worst of it was, I knew there were thousands of people in town in
+just my fix. Perhaps some of them were old friends of mine that I'd have
+been tickled to death to fore-gather with; or leastways, people from my
+State. Texas is a big place, but we'd have been brothers and sisters&mdash;or
+at least cousins once removed&mdash;for Christmas' sake. But they were
+scattered around at the St. Regis or the Mills Hotel, the Martha
+Washington or somewhere, while I was at the Waldorf-hyphen-Astoria.
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page22" name="page22"></a>[22]</span>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0032a.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 85px; height: 400px;"></div>
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0032b.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 365px; height: 194px; clear:left;"></div>
+
+<p>
+It was like the two men that Dickens&mdash;I believe it was Dickens&mdash;tells
+about: Somebody gives A a concertina, but he can't play on it; winter
+coming on and no overcoat; he can't wear the concertina any more than
+he can tootle it. A few blocks away is a fellow, Mr. B. He can play a
+concertina something grand, but he hasn't got one and his fingers itch.
+He spends all his ready money on a brand-new overcoat, and just then
+his aunt sends him another one. He thinks he'll just swap one of them
+overcoats for a concertina. So he advertises in an exchange column.
+About the same time, A advertises that he'll trade one
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page23" name="page23"></a>[23]</span>
+
+                                                        house-broken
+concertina for a nice overcoat. But does either A or B ever see B's or
+A's advertisements? Not on your beautiful daguerreotype.
+</p>
+<p>
+That was the way with us-all in New York. The town was full of lonesome
+strangers, and we went moping round, stumbling over each other and not
+daring to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+They call us "transients" here. It's like a common sailor that's lost at
+sea; he's only a "casualty." So us poor, homeless dogs in New York are
+only transients. Why, do you know, I was that lonely I could have stood
+out in the square like a lonely old cow in the rain, and just mooed for
+somebody to take me in.
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page24" name="page24"></a>[24]</span>
+
+<p>
+I'd have telegraphed for you and the childern to come to town, but Texas
+is so far away, and you'd have got here too late, and you couldn't come
+anyway, being sick, as you wrote me, and one of the kids having malary.
+How is his blessed self to-day? I hope you're feeling better. Telegraph
+if you ain't, and I'll take the first train home.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0035a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 95px; height: 382px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0035b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 168px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+Well, last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas dinner in a
+deserted restaurant, and it gave me heartburn (in addition to heartache)
+and a whole brood-stable of nightmares. I went to bed early, and stayed
+awake late. Gee! that was an awful night.
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page25" name="page25"></a>[25]</span>
+
+<p>
+I tried Philosophy&mdash;the next station beyond Despair. I said to myself,
+"You old fool, why in the name of all that's sensible should you feel
+so excited about one day more than another?" I wasn't so lonely the
+day before Christmas, I ain't so lonely to-day, but then I was like
+a small boy with the mumps and the earache on the Fourth of July.
+The firecrackers will pop just as lively another day, but&mdash;well, the
+universe was simply throwed all out of gear, like it must have been
+when Joshua held up the moon&mdash;or was it the sun?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+You remember reading me once about&mdash;I reckon it was Mr. Aldrich's
+pleasing idea of the last man on
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page26" name="page26"></a>[26]</span>
+
+                                 earth; everybody killed off by a
+pestilence or something, and him setting there by his lonely little
+lonesome; and what would he have done if he had heard his door-bell
+ring? Well, I reckon he'd have done what I'd have done if I'd met a
+friend&mdash;given one wild whoop, wrapped his arms round his neck, kissed
+him on both cheeks, and died with a faint gurgle of joy. I'd of been
+glad to have died so, too.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0036a.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 70px; height: 350px;"></div>
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0036b.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 365px; height: 180px; clear:left;"></div>
+
+<p>
+Finally, I swore that if I ever foresaw myself being corralled again in
+a strange city on Christmas, I'd put on a sandwich board or something
+and march up and down the streets with a sign like this:
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page27" name="page27"></a>[27]</span>
+
+<p class="center" style="line-height: 100%!important;">
+I'm lonely!<br />
+I'm homesick for a real<br />
+Christmas!<br />
+There must be others.<br />
+Let's get together!<br />
+Meet me at the Fountain<br />
+in Union Square!<br />
+We'll hang our stockings on the trees.<br />
+Perhaps some snow will fall in 'em.<br />
+Come one&mdash;Come all!<br />
+Both great and small!
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<p>
+I bet such a board would stir up a procession of exiles a mile and a
+half long. And we'd get together and have a good crying match on each
+other's shoulders, and wring each other's hands, while the band played
+Old Lang's Sign.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it's over now. I've lived
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page28" name="page28"></a>[28]</span>
+
+                              through the game of Christmas solitaire
+in a big city, and I feel as relieved as a man just getting out of a
+dentist's office. He's minus a few molars, and aches considerable, but
+he's full of a pleasing emptiness.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0039a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 90px; height: 395px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0039b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 188px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+But let me say right here, and put it in black and white: If I'm ever
+dragged away from home again on Christmas, I'll take laughing-gas enough
+for a day and two nights, or I'll take some violent steps to get
+company, if I have to hire a cayuse and a lariat and rustle Broadway,
+rounding up a herd of other unbranded stray cattle.
+</p>
+<p>
+Well, this is a long letter for me, honey, and I will close. Love and
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page29" name="page29"></a>[29]</span>
+
+ kisses to the sweet little kids and to the best wife a fellow ever had.
+</p>
+<p class="right">
+Your loving&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br />
+  <span class="sc">Austin</span>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<p>
+P. S. I pulled off the deal all right. The syndicate buys the mine.
+I get $500,000 in cash and $500,000 in stock, and I start for home in
+three days. We'll hang up our stockings on New Year's Day.
+</p>
+
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page30" name="page30"></a>[30]</span>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>--> <div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page31" name="page31"></a>[31]</span>
+
+<div style="height: 2em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<a name="h2H_4_0004" id="h2H_4_0004"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<a name="image-0031"></a>
+<img src="images/0041.png" width="200" height="223"
+alt="Between Letters" />
+
+<!--<h2>Between Letters</h2>-->
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page32" name="page32"></a>[32]</span>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>--> <div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page33" name="page33"></a>[33]</span>
+
+<div style="height: 2em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<img src="images/0033a.png" width="235" height="30" alt="Between Letters" style="margin-bottom: 2em;" />
+
+<img src="images/0033b.png" width="78" height="339" alt="money bags" style="float:right; clear: right; margin-bottom: 3em; margin-left: 1em;" />
+
+<p style="margin-left: 1em;" >
+<img src="images/cap-t.png" alt="T" style="float:left;" />he Fates accepted Colonel Crockett's challenge, and, by an irresistible
+syndication of events, forced him to be alone in New York again the very
+next Christmas. After a series of masterly financial strokes, he had
+felt rich enough in his two millions to spend a year abroad with his
+family. A cablegram called him to America early in December, to a
+directors' meeting. Expecting to return at once, he had left his family
+in Italy. A legal complication kept him postponing his trip from day
+to day; and finally an important hearing, in which he was a valued
+witness, was postponed
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page34" name="page34"></a>[34]</span>
+
+                by the referee&mdash;or deferee&mdash;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.
+</p>
+
+<img src="images/0033c.png" width="365" height="148" alt="money bags" style="clear: both;" />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page35" name="page35"></a>[35]</span>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0034"></a>
+<img src="images/0045.png" width="200" height="223"
+     alt="Letter Two" />
+
+<!--<h2>LETTER TWO</h2>-->
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page36" name="page36"></a>[36]</span>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>--> <div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page37" name="page37"></a>[37]</span>
+
+<a name="h2H_4_0005" id="h2H_4_0005"><!-- H2 anchor --></a>
+
+<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0048a.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 90px; height: 400px;"></div>
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0048b.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 365px; height: 191px; clear:left;"></div>
+
+<p class="right">
+<i>New York, N. Y., Dec. 28, 1905.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Friend Wife</span>:
+</p>
+<p>
+Well, I've been and went and gone and done it! And golly, but it was
+fun&mdash;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&mdash;all
+about Yours Truly.
+</p>
+<p>
+As soon as I saw that circumstances had organized a pool to corner me
+and my Christmases, I spent a couple
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page38" name="page38"></a>[38]</span>
+
+                                     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.
+</p>
+<p>
+"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."
+</p>
+<p>
+I looked for the biggest place in town under one roof. Madison
+Square Garden was <i>it</i>. You remember it. We was there to the Horse
+Show&mdash;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
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page39" name="page39"></a>[39]</span>
+
+        there was still room for Grover Cleveland to stand and make
+a speech.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0050a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 90px; height: 399px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0050b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 187px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+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&mdash;Christmas night?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Certainly, sir," he says. "There happens to be nothing doing this
+Christmas."
+</p>
+<p>
+"How much would it set me back?" I says very polite.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Only one thousand plunks," says he smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+"But, my dear Gaston," I says with a low bow, "I don't want to buy your
+little Noah's Ark for the
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page40" name="page40"></a>[40]</span>
+
+                          baby. I only want to borrow it for one evening."
+</p>
+<p>
+"One thou. is our bargain-counter limit," he says. "I couldn't make it
+less for the poor old Czar of Rooshy."
+</p>
+<p>
+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:
+</p>
+<p>
+"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."
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0039"></a>
+<div class="fig_block">
+<a href="images/f0051.jpg"><img src="images/0051.jpg" width="350" height="490"
+     alt="&quot;Only one thousand plunks,&quot; says he" /></a>
+<br />
+"Only one thousand plunks," says he
+</div>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>-->
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0078a.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 85px; height: 392px;"></div>
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0078b.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 365px; height: 197px; clear:left;"></div>
+
+<p>
+That riled me. I flashed a wad of
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page41" name="page41"></a>[41]</span>
+
+                                   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:
+</p>
+<p>
+"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?"
+</p>
+<p>
+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.
+</p>
+<p>
+He says what might I be wanting to use the Garden for?
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page42" name="page42"></a>[42]</span>
+
+<p>
+"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."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Whew, but you must be popular!" he says. "Who the dickens are you?
+Brother Teddy, or Mother Eddy?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"I'm Colonel D. Austin Crockett, of Waco," I says as meek as I could.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Pleased to meet you, Colonel," he says. "What you running
+for?&mdash;District Attorney? Or are you starting a new Mutual Benefit Life
+Assassination?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Neither," I says; "I'm a stranger in New York."
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page43" name="page43"></a>[43]</span>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<img src="images/0010b.png" style="float:right; clear:right; margin-left: 1em;" alt="" />
+
+<p>
+"But these friends of yours?" he gasped. "Is all Waco coming up here on
+an excursion? Is the town going to move bodily?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"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 a little Madison
+Square Garden warming and invite 'em in."
+</p>
+<p>
+"What are you going to sell 'em&mdash;prize poultry, or physical culture?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"I've nothing to sell. I'm just going to entertain 'em."
+</p>
+
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0010c.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page44" name="page44"></a>[44]</span>
+
+<p>
+"Well, I've heard of Southern hospitality," he says, "but this beats me.
+How much you going to charge a head?"
+</p>
+<p>
+"Nothing. Everything is to be free. Admission included."
+</p>
+<p>
+"Not on your dear old Lost Cause!" he exclaims. "Leastways not in our
+little doll's house. Not for ten thousand dollars! Why, man, do you
+realize that if you offered these New York, Brooklyn, Bronx, Hackensack
+and Hoboken folks a free show, more'n two thousand women would get
+trampled to death? Did you ever see a bargain-counter crowd on
+Twenty-third Street? Well, that's only for a
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page45" name="page45"></a>[45]</span>
+
+                                             chance to get something
+they don't want at a fishbait price. But if you offered them a free,
+'take-one' chance&mdash;holy keewhiz!&mdash;I can just see it now! The Garden
+ain't half big enough in the first place. There's enough Take-One'ers in
+these parts to fill the old Coliseum. And they'd make the wild animals
+look like a cage of rabbits or white mice."
+</p>
+<p>
+Well, the upshot of it was, he persuaded me to charge an admission; so
+we set it at $1.00 a head "on the hoof." I wrote out a card and sent it
+to all the papers to print at advertising rates. It cost right smart,
+but it looked neat:
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page46" name="page46"></a>[46]</span>
+
+<p class="center">
+TO EVERY STRANGER IN NEW
+YORK, AND HIS LADY
+</p>
+<p class="quote">
+If you are not otherwise engaged on
+Christmas night, the honor of your presence
+at Madison Square Garden is requested by
+</p>
+<p class="center">
+<span class="sc">David Austin Crockett</span>
+</p>
+<p class="center">
+<i>Colonel Fifth Texas Cavalry, C. S. A.</i>
+</p>
+<p class="quote">
+Music, Dancing, Refreshments, Souvenirs.
+For the purpose of keeping out the
+undesirable element a charge of $1.00 will
+be made.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<img src="images/0033b.png" style="float:left; clear:left; margin-right: 1em;" alt="" />
+
+<p>
+I knew that them magic words, "Refreshments" and "Souvenirs," would hit
+'em hard. In order to whet the public interest, I asked the papers where
+I advertised to give the thing some editorial or other reference. But
+they was very cold and said the best they could do was to send their
+dramatic critics to criticise
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page47" name="page47"></a>[47]</span>
+
+                               the show afterward. A lot of good that
+would do me! So I took more space in advertising.
+</p>
+<p>
+In a day or two I was visited at the hotel by one of the most imperent
+young fellows I ever met up with. He sent up a card, "<i>James J. James,
+Publicity Expert.</i>" I said to show him in, and he sort of oozed through
+the door&mdash;he was that oily. He looked about to see if we was alone; then
+winked slow and important, and says:
+</p>
+
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0033c.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<img src="images/0059a.png" style="float:right; clear:right; margin-left: 1em;" alt="" />
+
+<p>
+"What's your game, Colonel? It looks pretty slick, but I can't quite
+make it out. It's a new bunco, all right, but slick as it looks, it
+ain't quite so slick as it ought to be."
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page48" name="page48"></a>[48]</span>
+
+<p>
+"Look here, you cub," I roared, "if you imply that I have any evil
+motives in this, I'll shoot you so full of holes you'll look like a
+mosquito net!"
+</p>
+<p>
+He wasn't a bit scared; he simply winked the other eye, and said in a
+kind of foreign-sounding language:
+</p>
+<p>
+"Forget it, Colonel! Cut it out! Back to the alfalfa with your Buffalo
+Bill vocabulary! If you are really on the level, you don't need to prove
+it with artillery. But it makes no diff. to me about that. My business
+is producing fame, not merit. Once more I ask, what's your lay?"
+</p>
+
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0059b.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0048"></a>
+<div class="fig_block">
+<a href="images/f0061.jpg"><img src="images/0061.jpg" width="350" height="490"
+alt="James J. James, Publicity Expert" /></a>
+<br />
+James J. James, Publicity Expert
+</div>
+
+<!--<p>[Blank Page]</p>-->
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<img src="images/0010b.png" style="float:left; clear:left; margin-right: 1em;" alt="" />
+
+<p>
+I overcame a desire to kick him through the ceiling, and told him I
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page49" name="page49"></a>[49]</span>
+
+ proposed to entertain the strangers in New York.
+</p>
+<p>
+"Strangers in New York?&mdash;Why, that means everybody! There's been only
+one man born in New York since the war, and he's kept in alcohol at a
+dime muzhum. Your idea is really to give old New York a Christmas party,
+eh? Very pretty! Very pretty, indeed! But if you insist on exploding
+money all over the place, I don't see why you shouldn't get a run for
+it. Besides, I need a bit of it myself. What you want is a press agent.
+You're starting all wrong. People in New York can't understand or
+believe anything except through the language of the
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page50" name="page50"></a>[50]</span>
+
+                                                     press agent. You
+take one on your staff, and in three days you'll be so famous that, if a
+child in a kindergarten is asked who is the Queen of Holland, it will
+answer: 'Colonel Crockett, of Waco.'"
+</p>
+
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0010c.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0065a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 85px; height: 401px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0065b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 196px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+Well, he poured out the most remarkable string of talk I ever heard, and
+before I knew it he had made me promise to trust my soul and my scheme
+to him; to be surprised at nothing that might appear in the papers, and
+to refer all reporters to him. The next morning I found my name on the
+front page of every journal, with my picture in most of them. It seems
+I had held at bay two hundred angry Italians who
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page51" name="page51"></a>[51]</span>
+
+                                                  were trying to mob a
+Chinese laundryman. The evening papers said that I had stopped a runaway
+coach-and-four on Fifth Avenue, that morning, by lassoing the leader. On
+the coach were Mrs. Aster, Mrs. Fitch, Reggie Vanderbuilt, George Goold,
+Harry Leer and a passel of other "Among those presents." That night I
+went to a music-hall&mdash;according to the next morning's papers&mdash;and broke
+up the show by throwing a pocketful of solitaires to the chorus girls.
+The next day three burglars got into my room; I held them up in a
+corner, took away their masks, spanked them, and gave them each a
+hundred-dollar bill to help them to avoid
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page52" name="page52"></a>[52]</span>
+
+                                          temptation. That afternoon
+the three big life-insurance companies asked me to be president. And so
+on&mdash;you can read for yourself in the clippings&mdash;only for Heaven's sake
+don't believe any of it. In every article was a neat allusion to my
+Christmas party.
+</p>
+<p>
+I wanted to kill James J. James, and I scoured the town for him, but he
+dodged me. He kept his word, though. For the last few days I've been the
+most talked-of man in town. Looks like I'd been the Only man in New
+York.
+</p>
+<p>
+And now to tell about my little party. For two days a regiment of men
+was working in the Garden under
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page53" name="page53"></a>[53]</span>
+
+                           my direction&mdash;and at my expense. It was
+like paying the war appropriation of Russia. But it was worth it.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<img src="images/0066a.png" style="float: left; clear: left; margin-right: 1em;" alt="" />
+
+<p>
+At six o'clock Christmas night the crowd began to line up at the Garden
+doors. At 6:30 a platoon of police arrived. At 6:40 the line reached
+twice around the Garden. At 6:45 they sent for more police. At 7:15
+every street was solid with people. They called out the police reserves
+and clubbed about four hundred innocent bystanders insensible. At 7:45
+the fire department was called and played the hose on the crowd.
+</p>
+<p>
+This thinned 'em off a bit on the outsquirts. Then the ambulances give
+out and the fainting women was
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page54" name="page54"></a>[54]</span>
+
+                               carried home in express wagons and
+wheelbarrows. The subway was the only line that could run cars.
+</p>
+<p>
+At 8:30 the doors opened. You should of seen the rush. The Galveston
+flood wasn't in it. At 8:45 the Garden was so full they closed the
+doors. That sent some of the outside crowd home.
+</p>
+
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0066b.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>
+The Garden was a beautiful sight. On the tower outside, in big electric
+letters, there was a sign, "Merry Christmas to you and yours."
+</p>
+<p>
+Inside it was decorated with holly leaves and berries&mdash;tons and tons of
+it. At one end was built a big house with a chimbly and an old-fashioned
+fireplace. The roof of the house
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page55" name="page55"></a>[55]</span>
+
+                                  was covered with snow (cotton), and
+the sky back of it was full of electric stars that twinkled something
+beautiful. And there was a moon that looked like the real thing.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0069a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 85px; height: 399px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0069b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 188px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+There was four bands in the balconies and a chorus of angels with real
+wings and electric halos. They sang "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men,"
+written for the occasion by Mr. De Koven.
+</p>
+<p>
+By and by all the bands bust out gorgeous, and then Santy Claus appeared
+in a sleigh drawed by six real live stuffed reindeers. He run along the
+sky on unseen grooves and drove up to the roof of the house, and slid
+down the chimbly with a pack of
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page56" name="page56"></a>[56]</span>
+
+                                presents. He filled all the stockings
+with candy cornycopies and toys, and a lot of attendants passed 'em out
+to the childern. You should of heard them squeal with joy&mdash;poor little
+tots, living in hotels and apartment places where Santy Claus would of
+had to come up the steam radiator or the gas-log pipe to get in. Well,
+my Santy Claus had to make sixteen trips to satisfy the childern.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Garden was divided into sections, one for every State and Territory,
+with its own shield in electric lights and colors. There was a native of
+every State in charge, and every State had its own big Christmas tree,
+and reception-room and refreshments.
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page57" name="page57"></a>[57]</span>
+
+                              Some of the people I noticed seemed
+to of been born in several States at once, the way they passed from one
+booth to another fillin' up their pockets and stummicks. I reckon they
+paid for it the next day in doctors' bills.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0070a.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 86px; height: 402px;"></div>
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0070b.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 365px; height: 184px; clear:left;"></div>
+
+<p>
+But there was nary a sign of rowdyism. That dollar admission was a
+regular sieve for straining out the toughs. Then there were policemen
+everywhere, and every other man nearly was a plain-clothes man or a
+detective. Besides, after sober consideration, and on advice from the
+Gardeners, I cut out all drinks, except soft stuff. So there were no
+jags, except what some people brought
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page58" name="page58"></a>[58]</span>
+
+                                      with them from their Christmas
+dinners and loaded plum puddings.
+</p>
+<p>
+And then, of course, that peculiar something we get into us at Christmas
+time filled everybody with a sort of loving fellowship and a hankering
+to hug their neighbors and divvy up their funds like a Mutual Life
+Insurance Company prospectus says it's a-going to do some day.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<p>
+In the centre of the hall there was a big sign in electric letters:
+</p>
+<p class="center">
+EVERYBODY IS HEREBY <br />
+INTRODUCED TO EVERYBODY <br />
+ELSE&mdash;FOR TO-NIGHT ONLY
+</p>
+<p>
+At every State booth you'd see people gathering and recognizing old
+friends or introducing theirselves to
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page59" name="page59"></a>[59]</span>
+
+                                      new ones. It was surprising how
+each State had its gathering.
+</p>
+<p>
+At the Texas booth there was a big, immense crowd. A lot of them turned
+out to be old friends of ours; school friends of yours, ranch friends
+of mine, people I had worked for, people who had worked me&mdash;or for me.
+A lot of them sent their love and a Merry Christmas to you. I remember
+especially&mdash;&mdash; [Here we omit a list of names, somewhat lacking in
+universal interest.]
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0073a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 90px; height: 392px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0073b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 188px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+I had advertised that people who wanted to give each other Christmas
+presents could have them hung on the State trees. My attendants gave
+them checks for their gifts and there
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page60" name="page60"></a>[60]</span>
+
+                                       wasn't many mix-ups. Old Miss
+Samanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph, and he got
+a pair of silver-buckle garters meant for her. But most of them come out
+right, and several of them was so surprised at getting presents in New
+York that they bust out crying. Major Calhoun's whiskers was soaking wet
+with tears when he got a bottle of old Bourbon from Judge Payton.
+</p>
+<p>
+Rich folks who had been poor men met charter-members of the "I'm on to
+your origin" association. But the Christmas spirit made them forget to
+be snobs. You'd hear millionaires telling plain people how they used to
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page61" name="page61"></a>[61]</span>
+
+ play Hallowe'en jokes, how they scraped up to buy their mothers little
+Christmas gifts&mdash;what ridiculous things they used to get and give!
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0061"></a>
+<div class="fig_block">
+<a href="images/f0075.jpg"><img src="images/0075.jpg" width="350" height="490"
+alt="Old Miss Samanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph" /></a>
+<br />
+Old Miss Samanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph
+</div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<img src="images/0077a.png" style="float:right; clear:right; margin-left: 1em;" alt="" />
+
+<p>
+All evening as fast as anybody went out they'd let somebody else in.
+Along about eleven o'clock a lot of the people began to go home. Then a
+new crowd come in. People who had taken their childern home and put them
+to bed would come back for more fun. Others, who had spent the evening
+dining, began to dribble in.
+</p>
+<p>
+All the actor-people and singers came. It was good to see them. Some of
+them told me what a god-send such a thing was to them,
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page62" name="page62"></a>[62]</span>
+
+                                                       homeless by
+profession. A lot of them brought their wives and babies. One father was
+playing Romeo in Newark, his wife was playing Little Eva in Harlem, and
+their daughter was playing Camille on Broadway. You should of seen them
+rejoicing round the Kansas tree!
+</p>
+<p>
+About midnight the big refreshment hall was opened and everybody that
+could squeeze in set down to long tables where I had supper served.
+I had some of the best after-dinner speakers in town come in, and you
+should of heard some of the funny stories&mdash;it would of brought back dear
+old childhood memories. Mayor McClellan gave
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page63" name="page63"></a>[63]</span>
+
+                                              us all a welcome, and then
+there was Chauncey Depew, of course, and Simeon Ford, and Augustus
+Thomas, and Wilton Lackaye, and Job Hedges, and Lemuel Ely Quigg, and
+General Horace Porter, and a passel of others.
+</p>
+
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/0077b.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>
+They all made the most surprising allusions to your poor old husband.
+They called me Daddy and sang about me being a jolly good fellow. And
+one of them christened me "Santy Crockett." Why, my ears burned so hot
+I near set my collar on fire! It sure was worth all I spent, and I had
+a terrible time to keep from blubbering. I must of swallowed about four
+hundred and eleven Adam's apples.
+</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page64" name="page64"></a>[64]</span>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0078a.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 85px; height: 392px;"></div>
+<div style="float:left; background-image: url(images/0078b.png); margin-right: 1em; width: 365px; height: 197px; clear:left;"></div>
+
+<p>
+Finally they called on me for a speech. I just kind o' gibbered&mdash;I don't
+know what. The papers say I said: "Merry Christmas, my childern! This
+old world sure is some comfortable, after all. The only trouble is that
+the right people can't seem to get together at the right time often
+enough. But this here Christmas supper tastes to me terrible much like
+More. I'm going to try it again. And I hereby invite you all that ain't
+in any better place or any better world to meet me here a year from
+to-night. And so God bless you all, and&mdash;and God bless everybody!"
+</p>
+<p>
+Then after a lot of song-singing
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page65" name="page65"></a>[65]</span>
+
+                                 and hand-wringing we all went home,
+tears in every eye and smiles on every mouth. The remnants of food
+and toys made more than the twelve baskets full of Scripture. I sent
+them round to the Hospitals and Orphant Asylums. I've engaged the
+Garden again for next Christmas and paid a deposit down. It ain't the
+extravagance it looks, either, for while the expenses was high&mdash;twelve
+thousand-odd dollars&mdash;they took in at the door nearly eighteen thousand
+dollars. I sent the profit to the Salvation Army and the Volunteers, and
+now I'm being prayed for and hallelooyied for everywhere there's a bass
+drum. But I'd do it
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="page66" name="page66"></a>[66]</span>
+
+                    again if it cost me twenty thousand. It's worth
+that and more to have your heart nearly break wide open with joy and
+fellowship.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0069a.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 85px; height: 399px;"></div>
+<div style="float:right; background-image: url(images/0069b.png); margin-left: 1em; width: 365px; height: 188px; clear:right;"></div>
+
+<p>
+It was broad daylight when I got to bed, all wore out with happiness.
+I cuddled up, like I was a little boy once more in the days when I used
+to get up Christmas morning, cold and early, and look at my presents and
+then crawl back under the covers again with a double armful of toys, to
+keep warm and sleep some more.
+</p>
+<p>
+If only you and the chicks had of been there! Next time you shall be.
+</p>
+<p class="right">
+Your loving&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br />
+<span class="sc">Austin</span>.
+</p>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<div class="blank"><br /></div>
+
+<a name="image-0070"></a>
+<div class="figure">
+<img src="images/bcover.jpg" style="border: 1px solid green;"
+alt="(Back Cover)" />
+</div>
+
+<div style="height: 6em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>
+
+</div><!--page_block-->
+
+<p class="quote">
+Transcriber's Note: In the original, pages in the main text are
+surrounded on all sides by a series of decorative borders which
+also repeat in mirror-image versions. These have been changed to
+L-shaped illustrations, and at least one example of each has been
+included. The decorative border at the left is a tile taken from
+the endpapers of the original.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Colonel Crockett's Co-operative
+Christmas, by Rupert Hughes
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas, by 
+Rupert Hughes
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas
+
+Author: Rupert Hughes
+
+Release Date: September 21, 2007 [EBook #22696]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CO-OPERATIVE CHRISTMAS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+COL. CROCKETT'S CO-OPERATIVE CHRISTMAS
+
+RUPERT HUGHES
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas
+
+
+[Illustration: LAST NIGHT I ATE A HORRIBLE MOCKERY OF A CHRISTMAS DINNER
+IN A DESERTED RESTAURANT]
+
+
+
+
+                              [Illustration]
+
+                Colonel Crockett's Co-operative Christmas
+
+                             By Rupert Hughes
+
+
+                         Philadelphia and London
+                       George W Jacobs and Company
+
+
+
+                           COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY
+                        GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY
+                       _Published September, 1906_
+
+                          _All rights reserved_
+                          _Printed in U. S. A._
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+
+  Last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas
+    dinner in a deserted restaurant                          _Frontispiece_
+
+  As blue as all the swear words ever swore                _Facing page_ 14
+
+  He said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs on me              18
+
+  "Only one thousand plunks," says he                                    40
+
+  James J. James, Publicity Expert                                       48
+
+  Old Miss Samanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph    60
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Foreword
+
+
+Of all the strange gatherings that have distinguished Madison Square
+Garden, the strangest was probably on the occasion, last Christmas,
+when the now well-known Colonel D. A. Crockett, of Waco, rented the vast
+auditorium for one thousand dollars, and threw it open to the public.
+As he is going to do it again this coming Christmas, an account of
+the con-, in-, and re-ception of his scheme may interest some of the
+thousands who find themselves every Christmas in the Colonel's plight.
+My plan to describe it was frustrated by the receipt, from his wife,
+of three letters he wrote her. It seems only fair, then, that the author
+of an achievement which is likely to become an institution should be
+allowed to be the author of its history. I shall, therefore, content
+myself with publishing verbatim two of the Colonel's own letters.
+
+RUPERT HUGHES
+
+
+
+
+LETTER ONE
+
+
+_New York, N. Y., Dec. 26, 1904._
+
+FRIEND WIFE:
+
+The miserablest night I ever spent in all my born days--the solitariest,
+with no seconds--was sure this identical Christmas night in New York
+City. And I've been some lonesome, too, in my time.
+
+I've told you how, as a boy, I shipped before the mast--the wrong
+mast--and how the old tub bumped a reef and went down with all
+hands--and feet--except mine. You remember me telling how I grabbed
+aholt of a large wooden box and floated on to a dry spot. It knocked the
+wind out of my stummick considerable, but I hung on kind of unconscious
+till the tide went out. When I come to, I looked round to see where
+in Sam Hill I was at, and found I was on a little pinhead of an island
+about the size a freckle would be on the moon. All around was mostly
+sky, excepting for what was water. And me with nothing to drink it with!
+
+I set down hard on the box and felt as blue as all the swear words ever
+swore. There was nothing in sight to eat, and that made me so hungry
+that me and the box fell over backward. As I laid there sprawled out,
+with my feet up on the box, I looked between my knees and read them
+beautiful words, "Eat Buggins' Biscuit," in plain sight before me on
+the end of the box.
+
+[Illustration: AS BLUE AS ALL THE SWEAR WORDS EVER SWORE]
+
+Well, me and friend Buggins inhabited that place--about as big as one
+of Man Friday's footprints--for going on four weeks. When tide was in,
+I held the box on my head to keep my powder dry. 'Long toward the end of
+my visit, just before the ship that saved me hove in sight, I began to
+feel a mite tired of that place. I kind o' felt as if I'd saw about all
+that was int'resting on that there island. I thought I was unhappy and I
+had a sneaking idea I was lonesome. But I see I was mistaken. I hadn't
+spent a Christmas night alone in a big city then.
+
+Then once when I was prospecting for our mine, I was snowed up in a
+pass. I reckon I've told you how I got typhoid fever and wrestled it
+out all day by my lonesome; unparalleled thirst, Boston baked brains,
+red flannel tongue, delirium dreamins, and self-acting emetic, down
+to the final blissful "Where am I at?" and on through the nice long
+convalescence till my limbs changed from twine strings to human members.
+Six weeks doing time as doctor, patient, trained nurse and fellow-Mason
+all in one, was being alone right smart. But it wasn't a patch on the
+little metrolopis of Manhattan on Santy Claus day.
+
+Then once I had a rather unrestful evening out in the western part
+of Texas. A fellow sold me a horse right cheap, and later a crowd
+of gentlemen accused me of stealing it, and I was put in jail with a
+promise of being lynched before breakfast. That was being uncomfortable
+some, too. But I wished last night that my friend, Judge Watson, hadn't
+come along that night and identified me. It would have saved me from
+New Yorkitis.
+
+Then there was the night when I proposed for your hand and you sent me
+to your pa, and he said if I ever come near again he'd sic the dogs on
+me. I spent that night at a safe distance from the dogs, leaning on a
+fence, and not noticing it was barb wire till I looked at my clothes and
+my hide next day. I watched your windows till the light went out and all
+my hope with it--and on after that till, as the poet says, till daylight
+doth appear.
+
+Then there's the time I told you about, when--but there's no use of
+making a catalog of every time I've been lonesome. I have taken my pen
+in hand to inform you that last night beat everything else on my private
+list of troubles. My other lonely times was when I was alone, but the
+lonesomest of all was in the heart of the biggest crowd on this here
+continent.
+
+[Illustration: HE SAID IF I EVER COME NEAR AGAIN HE'D SIC THE DOGS ON ME]
+
+There was people a-plenty. But I didn't know one gol-darned galoot. I
+had plenty of money, but nobody to spend it on--except tiptakers. I was
+stopping at this big hotel with lugsury spread over everything, thicker
+than sorghum on corn pone. But lonely--why, honey, I was so lonely that,
+as I walked along the streets, I felt as if I'd like to break into some
+of the homes and compel 'em at the point of my gun to let me set in and
+dine with 'em.
+
+I felt like asking one of the bell-boys to take me home and get his ma
+to give me a slice of goose and let her talk to me about her folks.
+
+There was some four million people in a space about the size of our
+ranch. There was theatres to go to--but who wants to go to the theatre
+on Christmas?--it's like going to church on the Fourth of July. There
+were dime muzhums, penny vawdevilles, dance-halls.
+
+There was a big dinner for news-boys. The Salvation Army and the
+Volunteers gave feeds to the poor. But I couldn't qualify. I wasn't
+poor. I had no home, no friends, no nothing.
+
+The streets got deserteder and deserteder. A few other wretches was
+marooned like me in the hotel corridors. We looked at each other like
+sneak-thieves patroling the same street. Waiters glanced at us pitiful
+as much as to say, "If it wasn't for shrimps like you, I'd be home with
+my kids."
+
+The worst of it was, I knew there were thousands of people in town in
+just my fix. Perhaps some of them were old friends of mine that I'd have
+been tickled to death to fore-gather with; or leastways, people from my
+State. Texas is a big place, but we'd have been brothers and sisters--or
+at least cousins once removed--for Christmas' sake. But they were
+scattered around at the St. Regis or the Mills Hotel, the Martha
+Washington or somewhere, while I was at the Waldorf-hyphen-Astoria.
+
+It was like the two men that Dickens--I believe it was Dickens--tells
+about: Somebody gives A a concertina, but he can't play on it; winter
+coming on and no overcoat; he can't wear the concertina any more than
+he can tootle it. A few blocks away is a fellow, Mr. B. He can play a
+concertina something grand, but he hasn't got one and his fingers itch.
+He spends all his ready money on a brand-new overcoat, and just then
+his aunt sends him another one. He thinks he'll just swap one of them
+overcoats for a concertina. So he advertises in an exchange column.
+About the same time, A advertises that he'll trade one house-broken
+concertina for a nice overcoat. But does either A or B ever see B's or
+A's advertisements? Not on your beautiful daguerreotype.
+
+That was the way with us-all in New York. The town was full of lonesome
+strangers, and we went moping round, stumbling over each other and not
+daring to speak.
+
+They call us "transients" here. It's like a common sailor that's lost at
+sea; he's only a "casualty." So us poor, homeless dogs in New York are
+only transients. Why, do you know, I was that lonely I could have stood
+out in the square like a lonely old cow in the rain, and just mooed for
+somebody to take me in.
+
+I'd have telegraphed for you and the childern to come to town, but Texas
+is so far away, and you'd have got here too late, and you couldn't come
+anyway, being sick, as you wrote me, and one of the kids having malary.
+How is his blessed self to-day? I hope you're feeling better. Telegraph
+if you ain't, and I'll take the first train home.
+
+Well, last night I ate a horrible mockery of a Christmas dinner in a
+deserted restaurant, and it gave me heartburn (in addition to heartache)
+and a whole brood-stable of nightmares. I went to bed early, and stayed
+awake late. Gee! that was an awful night.
+
+I tried Philosophy--the next station beyond Despair. I said to myself,
+"You old fool, why in the name of all that's sensible should you feel
+so excited about one day more than another?" I wasn't so lonely the
+day before Christmas, I ain't so lonely to-day, but then I was like
+a small boy with the mumps and the earache on the Fourth of July.
+The firecrackers will pop just as lively another day, but--well, the
+universe was simply throwed all out of gear, like it must have been
+when Joshua held up the moon--or was it the sun?
+
+You remember reading me once about--I reckon it was Mr. Aldrich's
+pleasing idea of the last man on earth; everybody killed off by a
+pestilence or something, and him setting there by his lonely little
+lonesome; and what would he have done if he had heard his door-bell
+ring? Well, I reckon he'd have done what I'd have done if I'd met a
+friend--given one wild whoop, wrapped his arms round his neck, kissed
+him on both cheeks, and died with a faint gurgle of joy. I'd of been
+glad to have died so, too.
+
+Finally, I swore that if I ever foresaw myself being corralled again in
+a strange city on Christmas, I'd put on a sandwich board or something
+and march up and down the streets with a sign like this:
+
+
+                               I'm lonely!
+                         I'm homesick for a real
+                                Christmas!
+                          There must be others.
+                           Let's get together!
+                         Meet me at the Fountain
+                             in Union Square!
+                  We'll hang our stockings on the trees.
+                   Perhaps some snow will fall in 'em.
+                           Come one--Come all!
+                          Both great and small!
+
+
+I bet such a board would stir up a procession of exiles a mile and a
+half long. And we'd get together and have a good crying match on each
+other's shoulders, and wring each other's hands, while the band played
+Old Lang's Sign.
+
+But it's over now. I've lived through the game of Christmas solitaire
+in a big city, and I feel as relieved as a man just getting out of a
+dentist's office. He's minus a few molars, and aches considerable, but
+he's full of a pleasing emptiness.
+
+But let me say right here, and put it in black and white: If I'm ever
+dragged away from home again on Christmas, I'll take laughing-gas enough
+for a day and two nights, or I'll take some violent steps to get
+company, if I have to hire a cayuse and a lariat and rustle Broadway,
+rounding up a herd of other unbranded stray cattle.
+
+Well, this is a long letter for me, honey, and I will close. Love and
+kisses to the sweet little kids and to the best wife a fellow ever had.
+
+Your loving
+
+AUSTIN.
+
+
+P. S. I pulled off the deal all right. The syndicate buys the mine.
+I get $500,000 in cash and $500,000 in stock, and I start for home
+in three days. We'll hang up our stockings on New Year's Day.
+
+
+
+
+Between Letters
+
+
+The Fates accepted Colonel Crockett's challenge, and, by an irresistible
+syndication of events, forced him to be alone in New York again the very
+next Christmas. After a series of masterly financial strokes, he had
+felt rich enough in his two millions to spend a year abroad with his
+family. A cablegram called him to America early in December, to a
+directors' meeting. Expecting to return at once, he had left his family
+in Italy. A legal complication kept him postponing his trip from day
+to day; and finally an important hearing, in which 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 a little Madison
+Square Garden warming and invite 'em in."
+
+"What are you going to sell 'em--prize poultry, or physical culture?"
+
+"I've nothing to sell. I'm just going to entertain 'em."
+
+"Well, I've heard of Southern hospitality," he says, "but this beats me.
+How much you going to charge a head?"
+
+"Nothing. Everything is to be free. Admission included."
+
+"Not on your dear old Lost Cause!" he exclaims. "Leastways not in our
+little doll's house. Not for ten thousand dollars! Why, man, do you
+realize that if you offered these New York, Brooklyn, Bronx, Hackensack
+and Hoboken folks a free show, more'n two thousand women would get
+trampled to death? Did you ever see a bargain-counter crowd on
+Twenty-third Street? Well, that's only for a chance to get something
+they don't want at a fishbait price. But if you offered them a free,
+'take-one' chance--holy keewhiz!--I can just see it now! The Garden
+ain't half big enough in the first place. There's enough Take-One'ers in
+these parts to fill the old Coliseum. And they'd make the wild animals
+look like a cage of rabbits or white mice."
+
+Well, the upshot of it was, he persuaded me to charge an admission; so
+we set it at $1.00 a head "on the hoof." I wrote out a card and sent it
+to all the papers to print at advertising rates. It cost right smart,
+but it looked neat:
+
+
+    TO EVERY STRANGER IN NEW YORK, AND HIS LADY
+
+    If you are not otherwise engaged on Christmas night, the honor of
+    your presence at Madison Square Garden is requested by
+
+    DAVID AUSTIN CROCKETT
+
+    _Colonel Fifth Texas Cavalry, C. S. A._
+
+    Music, Dancing, Refreshments, Souvenirs. For the purpose of keeping
+    out the undesirable element a charge of $1.00 will be made.
+
+
+I knew that them magic words, "Refreshments" and "Souvenirs," would hit
+'em hard. In order to whet the public interest, I asked the papers where
+I advertised to give the thing some editorial or other reference. But
+they was very cold and said the best they could do was to send their
+dramatic critics to criticise the show afterward. A lot of good that
+would do me! So I took more space in advertising.
+
+In a day or two I was visited at the hotel by one of the most imperent
+young fellows I ever met up with. He sent up a card, "_James J. James,
+Publicity Expert._" I said to show him in, and he sort of oozed through
+the door--he was that oily. He looked about to see if we was alone; then
+winked slow and important, and says:
+
+"What's your game, Colonel? It looks pretty slick, but I can't quite
+make it out. It's a new bunco, all right, but slick as it looks, it
+ain't quite so slick as it ought to be."
+
+"Look here, you cub," I roared, "if you imply that I have any evil
+motives in this, I'll shoot you so full of holes you'll look like a
+mosquito net!"
+
+He wasn't a bit scared; he simply winked the other eye, and said in a
+kind of foreign-sounding language:
+
+"Forget it, Colonel! Cut it out! Back to the alfalfa with your Buffalo
+Bill vocabulary! If you are really on the level, you don't need to prove
+it with artillery. But it makes no diff. to me about that. My business
+is producing fame, not merit. Once more I ask, what's your lay?"
+
+[Illustration: JAMES J. JAMES, PUBLICITY EXPERT]
+
+I overcame a desire to kick him through the ceiling, and told him I
+proposed to entertain the strangers in New York.
+
+"Strangers in New York?--Why, that means everybody! There's been only
+one man born in New York since the war, and he's kept in alcohol at a
+dime muzhum. Your idea is really to give old New York a Christmas party,
+eh? Very pretty! Very pretty, indeed! But if you insist on exploding
+money all over the place, I don't see why you shouldn't get a run for
+it. Besides, I need a bit of it myself. What you want is a press agent.
+You're starting all wrong. People in New York can't understand or
+believe anything except through the language of the press agent. You
+take one on your staff, and in three days you'll be so famous that, if
+a child in a kindergarten is asked who is the Queen of Holland, it will
+answer: 'Colonel Crockett, of Waco.'"
+
+Well, he poured out the most remarkable string of talk I ever heard, and
+before I knew it he had made me promise to trust my soul and my scheme
+to him; to be surprised at nothing that might appear in the papers, and
+to refer all reporters to him. The next morning I found my name on the
+front page of every journal, with my picture in most of them. It seems
+I had held at bay two hundred angry Italians who were trying to mob a
+Chinese laundryman. The evening papers said that I had stopped a runaway
+coach-and-four on Fifth Avenue, that morning, by lassoing the leader. On
+the coach were Mrs. Aster, Mrs. Fitch, Reggie Vanderbuilt, George Goold,
+Harry Leer and a passel of other "Among those presents." That night I
+went to a music-hall--according to the next morning's papers--and broke
+up the show by throwing a pocketful of solitaires to the chorus girls.
+The next day three burglars got into my room; I held them up in a
+corner, took away their masks, spanked them, and gave them each a
+hundred-dollar bill to help them to avoid temptation. That afternoon
+the three big life-insurance companies asked me to be president. And so
+on--you can read for yourself in the clippings--only for Heaven's sake
+don't believe any of it. In every article was a neat allusion to my
+Christmas party.
+
+I wanted to kill James J. James, and I scoured the town for him, but he
+dodged me. He kept his word, though. For the last few days I've been the
+most talked-of man in town. Looks like I'd been the Only man in New
+York.
+
+And now to tell about my little party. For two days a regiment of men
+was working in the Garden under my direction--and at my expense. It was
+like paying the war appropriation of Russia. But it was worth it.
+
+At six o'clock Christmas night the crowd began to line up at the Garden
+doors. At 6:30 a platoon of police arrived. At 6:40 the line reached
+twice around the Garden. At 6:45 they sent for more police. At 7:15
+every street was solid with people. They called out the police reserves
+and clubbed about four hundred innocent bystanders insensible. At 7:45
+the fire department was called and played the hose on the crowd.
+
+This thinned 'em off a bit on the outsquirts. Then the ambulances give
+out and the fainting women was carried home in express wagons and
+wheelbarrows. The subway was the only line that could run cars.
+
+At 8:30 the doors opened. You should of seen the rush. The Galveston
+flood wasn't in it. At 8:45 the Garden was so full they closed the
+doors. That sent some of the outside crowd home.
+
+The Garden was a beautiful sight. On the tower outside, in big electric
+letters, there was a sign, "Merry Christmas to you and yours."
+
+Inside it was decorated with holly leaves and berries--tons and tons of
+it. At one end was built a big house with a chimbly and an old-fashioned
+fireplace. The roof of the house was covered with snow (cotton), and
+the sky back of it was full of electric stars that twinkled something
+beautiful. And there was a moon that looked like the real thing.
+
+There was four bands in the balconies and a chorus of angels with real
+wings and electric halos. They sang "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men,"
+written for the occasion by Mr. De Koven.
+
+By and by all the bands bust out gorgeous, and then Santy Claus appeared
+in a sleigh drawed by six real live stuffed reindeers. He run along the
+sky on unseen grooves and drove up to the roof of the house, and slid
+down the chimbly with a pack of presents. He filled all the stockings
+with candy cornycopies and toys, and a lot of attendants passed 'em out
+to the childern. You should of heard them squeal with joy--poor little
+tots, living in hotels and apartment places where Santy Claus would of
+had to come up the steam radiator or the gas-log pipe to get in. Well,
+my Santy Claus had to make sixteen trips to satisfy the childern.
+
+The Garden was divided into sections, one for every State and Territory,
+with its own shield in electric lights and colors. There was a native of
+every State in charge, and every State had its own big Christmas tree,
+and reception-room and refreshments. Some of the people I noticed seemed
+to of been born in several States at once, the way they passed from one
+booth to another fillin' up their pockets and stummicks. I reckon they
+paid for it the next day in doctors' bills.
+
+But there was nary a sign of rowdyism. That dollar admission was a
+regular sieve for straining out the toughs. Then there were policemen
+everywhere, and every other man nearly was a plain-clothes man or a
+detective. Besides, after sober consideration, and on advice from the
+Gardeners, I cut out all drinks, except soft stuff. So there were no
+jags, except what some people brought with them from their Christmas
+dinners and loaded plum puddings.
+
+And then, of course, that peculiar something we get into us at Christmas
+time filled everybody with a sort of loving fellowship and a hankering
+to hug their neighbors and divvy up their funds like a Mutual Life
+Insurance Company prospectus says it's a-going to do some day.
+
+In the centre of the hall there was a big sign in electric letters:
+
+      EVERYBODY IS HEREBY
+    INTRODUCED TO EVERYBODY
+    ELSE--FOR TO-NIGHT ONLY
+
+
+At every State booth you'd see people gathering and recognizing old
+friends or introducing theirselves to new ones. It was surprising how
+each State had its gathering.
+
+At the Texas booth there was a big, immense crowd. A lot of them turned
+out to be old friends of ours; school friends of yours, ranch friends
+of mine, people I had worked for, people who had worked me--or for me.
+A lot of them sent their love and a Merry Christmas to you. I remember
+especially---- [Here we omit a list of names, somewhat lacking in
+universal interest.]
+
+I had advertised that people who wanted to give each other Christmas
+presents could have them hung on the State trees. My attendants gave
+them checks for their gifts and there wasn't many mix-ups. Old Miss
+Samanthy Clay got a box of cigars meant for Judge Randolph, and he got
+a pair of silver-buckle garters meant for her. But most of them come out
+right, and several of them was so surprised at getting presents in New
+York that they bust out crying. Major Calhoun's whiskers was soaking wet
+with tears when he got a bottle of old Bourbon from Judge Payton.
+
+[Illustration: OLD MISS SAMANTHY CLAY GOT A BOX OF CIGARS MEANT FOR
+JUDGE RANDOLPH]
+
+Rich folks who had been poor men met charter-members of the "I'm on to
+your origin" association. But the Christmas spirit made them forget to
+be snobs. You'd hear millionaires telling plain people how they used to
+play Hallowe'en jokes, how they scraped up to buy their mothers little
+Christmas gifts--what ridiculous things they used to get and give!
+
+All evening as fast as anybody went out they'd let somebody else in.
+Along about eleven o'clock a lot of the people began to go home. Then a
+new crowd come in. People who had taken their childern home and put them
+to bed would come back for more fun. Others, who had spent the evening
+dining, began to dribble in.
+
+All the actor-people and singers came. It was good to see them. Some
+of them told me what a god-send such a thing was to them, homeless by
+profession. A lot of them brought their wives and babies. One father was
+playing Romeo in Newark, his wife was playing Little Eva in Harlem, and
+their daughter was playing Camille on Broadway. You should of seen them
+rejoicing round the Kansas tree!
+
+About midnight the big refreshment hall was opened and everybody that
+could squeeze in set down to long tables where I had supper served.
+I had some of the best after-dinner speakers in town come in, and you
+should of heard some of the funny stories--it would of brought back dear
+old childhood memories. Mayor McClellan gave us all a welcome, and then
+there was Chauncey Depew, of course, and Simeon Ford, and Augustus
+Thomas, and Wilton Lackaye, and Job Hedges, and Lemuel Ely Quigg, and
+General Horace Porter, and a passel of others.
+
+They all made the most surprising allusions to your poor old husband.
+They called me Daddy and sang about me being a jolly good fellow. And
+one of them christened me "Santy Crockett." Why, my ears burned so hot
+I near set my collar on fire! It sure was worth all I spent, and I had
+a terrible time to keep from blubbering. I must of swallowed about four
+hundred and eleven Adam's apples.
+
+Finally they called on me for a speech. I just kind o' gibbered--I don't
+know what. The papers say I said: "Merry Christmas, my childern! This
+old world sure is some comfortable, after all. The only trouble is that
+the right people can't seem to get together at the right time often
+enough. But this here Christmas supper tastes to me terrible much like
+More. I'm going to try it again. And I hereby invite you all that ain't
+in any better place or any better world to meet me here a year from
+to-night. And so God bless you all, and--and God bless everybody!"
+
+Then after a lot of song-singing and hand-wringing we all went home,
+tears in every eye and smiles on every mouth. The remnants of food
+and toys made more than the twelve baskets full of Scripture. I sent
+them round to the Hospitals and Orphant Asylums. I've engaged the
+Garden again for next Christmas and paid a deposit down. It ain't the
+extravagance it looks, either, for while the expenses was high--twelve
+thousand-odd dollars--they took in at the door nearly eighteen thousand
+dollars. I sent the profit to the Salvation Army and the Volunteers, and
+now I'm being prayed for and hallelooyied for everywhere there's a bass
+drum. But I'd do it again if it cost me twenty thousand. It's worth
+that and more to have your heart nearly break wide open with joy and
+fellowship.
+
+It was broad daylight when I got to bed, all wore out with happiness.
+I cuddled up, like I was a little boy once more in the days when I used
+to get up Christmas morning, cold and early, and look at my presents and
+then crawl back under the covers again with a double armful of toys, to
+keep warm and sleep some more.
+
+If only you and the chicks had of been there! Next time you shall be.
+
+Your loving
+
+AUSTIN.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Colonel Crockett's Co-operative
+Christmas, by Rupert Hughes
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CO-OPERATIVE CHRISTMAS ***
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