A DAUGHTER OF SANTA CLAUS

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8612, 24 December 1913, Page 9

A DAUGHTER OF SANTA CLAUS

Nic<t since the. Hibernia.™ opened tlieir new ball or the day..that Murphy’s hors© threw him in the St. Patrick’s parade had the block known such a sensation. Mrs Corrigan's Katie had gone on the stage, and the tenements were wild with the news.. More than that, she had moved over on the west side to live with an aunt, whoso husband had made a fortune with the carts and sand, and once she had been down to see her mother in an automobile. It was a sure enough sensation. Mrs Corrigan took it mildly. '‘Katie is a good girl,” she would say, “art’, she be doin’ much for her mother,” aid she would shake her head and then go over to the mantel and with her apron wipe the dust from the photograph of a tall, slender girl, who, now arrayed in a gorgeous stage gown, looked the beauty that she really was. Katie Corrigan had always been the beauty of tho ward. It was she all the boys wanted to dance with the night the Hibernians threw their hall open, and it was current gossip the next day that Paddy Ryan got one over the head in Grogan’s for calling down Tim Kelly, who had taken ail the dances away from the rest of tho gang. And it was Katie, too, who had been the soprano in St. Pius’s from the time she left the parish; school, and Father Shea had gotten a lot of tho people who had the money to spare to make up a fund for tho cultivation of her voice. Katie was very proud of the day she took her first lesson, and several Sundays later, when the choir director gave her a bit of solo to sing, her sweet voice went into everyone’s heart and her face beamed, while in one of tho back pews Mrs Corrigan wept tears, of real joy into tho open, pages of her prayer book. This and* a hundred other events in the life of popular Katie were being discussed when the nows of her going on the stage flashed about the neighbourhood Mrs Corrigan was a widow. Pat had been a good man to her, hut there were little savings left after ho passed away peacefully from the harts and the shock ho got when he fell in a trench working for tho Winter Department. The wife had always done work, but now she had to have more income, so, through tho goodness of Mrs Hogan, who was the head scrub woman at the Comedy Theatre, she obtained regular employment, and

By Wells Hawks,

Katio kept on at school. Ajid as the days passed the little girl who had, looked so sweet in. hot white frock and 1 lie wreath at the first communion began to grow into womanhood, and tho hoys and tho men, and the women, too, for all tliat, marvelled at the beauty of Mrs Corrigan’s Katie. One morning Mrs Corrigan was sweeping down the centre aisle of tho theatre. Tho musical director was at the place surrounded by a group of girls all struggling with the music of tho next piece to he produced by the management. Mrs Corrigan swept and raised a cloud of dust. Tho oonduo» tor pounded at his piano, while a blending of mezzos and lyric sopranos beat upon his ears. Presently some one sounded an ambitious high notei that broke almost before it reached its liberty. The director ceased abruptly and the girl began to cough. Thia stopped his onslaught for a moment, hut only for a moment, for he turn-* ed on Mrs Corrigan, shouting:— “For Heaven’s sake, woman, how are these .girls going to sing in the dust you are making?” “Faith, an’ how are yea goin’ t» expect people to come into a theatre if it ain’t clean ?” retorted Mrs Cor, rigan, still sweeping. “Now, be sensible, woman,” said! tho leader. “Don’t you know these girls can’t sing while you sweep.” .“I do not,” replied Mra Corrigan, “Sure, an’ I am sweeping many si time when my Katie is practisin’.” This evidently settled tho matter* for tho conductor went back to hia piano and Mrs Corrigan continued her cleaning of tho centre aisle. Later in tho any the conductor came through the lobby and passed Min Corrigan, who was polishing a bas-nelicf thing that suggested, something about art. He had a memory, for ho remarked• “So you have ■ a daughter who sings?” ' Airs Corrigan dropped her rag and polish, and before the man had loft he had heard all about Katie and her voice, and it was told with all the enthusiasm of a mother’s affection. It impressed the man of music, for h® had Katie brought to the theatre, and she sang for him while Mrs Corrigan stood behind tho curtain of tho boxes wiping away her tears with the end of her dust rag. Two weeks later n “Misa Katherino Kompton” made her appearance in the chorus, and the gallery door-keeper passed Mrs Hogan and Mrs Corrigan in to bo present at Katie’s fine debut. And what a night it was when she came home I All of the boys and girls wore waiting on tho doorstep for Katie, there were heads out of every window, and in the parlour of the Corrigan flat there was a fine banquet “from Tim Kelly to Katio.” “Ob 1 you are all so good,” exclaim* ed Katie, and then entering tho room she threw herself into her mother'# arms and kissed her. “It won’t be long, mother, before you 11011 stop working and I can take care of you,” she continued. “Never mind, child,” said the mother. “Go to bed, for yez must bo tired, the way yea was prancin’ and jumpin’ about.” Months passed, and a summer show survived tho first frosts of autumn.

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and became a settled success. Miss Kompton had stepped from the back line 1.0 the front, so that her voice might carry the high notes of the ensemble that a very bad voiced prima donna -struggled for and never reached. And in those few months how she hud grown and.developed in carriage and grace, but all with the simplicity'«[ manner that was especially appealing across the footlights. Tall and slender, but of excellent poise, site held her head as if a little disdainful. Tier arms and shoulders were ojfsnowy whiteness. The complexion was that of the truest type of Irish maidenhood, and her well rounded forehead was veiled in the raven black hair that she parted in the centre, allowing it to fall carelessly on either side. So no wonder it became the question, “Who is the pretty Irish girl?” And there was no answer, but that she was Irish, that -sho was -Miss Kompton, and that she lived with relatives ou the upper west side. At all of which Katie laughed merrily as she told her mother on the visits down homo, whore the boys and girls still trooped out to meet her and where tha heads hung out of tlio windows until isho was out of sight. Somewhere between the footlights and the front row of the orchestra seats there is- on iilidsiblp d.ino, .whpre Jnrka that mischievous little chap who meddles with our hearts, and many of Ins well-aimed darts are those that go over the lino from the cross-bow of a pair of dancing eyes. Katie had these dancing .eyes, ..but. if they fired tlio darts it..ivaa.alj unconsciously done. At any rate, they hod been fired, and tho girls in tho company knew that the target was' in fbo front row every night. Katie did not fully realise it until one' night there came to her a Ihugo bunch of roses, and the girls laughed at her surprise. Sho only knew it was from ‘' Air Spencor,” and the front row of girls said ho was a fino fellow and awfully rich. Katie told hoFmdtller about it, and she looked at her for u long time without saying a word. ' “I > ‘retty'"girls will have admirers,” Father fe’hea told Mrs Corrigan. _ Two or three nights later it was raining, and Mr Spencer insisted that rfie ride homo in-Ms, automobile. Sho did, there was a. little supper on tho way up town, and the next day he drove her through the park. Several more days there wero’rides in the park, for Katie had expressed a desire to learn how to run the machine, and Mr Spencer, being accommodating, was glad to give the lessons. Once in a lonesome drive In tho park he took her hand and whis'pered : ■ —• “You are making me love you.” She laughed and blew the horn, and ho said no more. Some of Spencer’s friends wanted to meet Katie, and as the- “ character woman ” consented to act as chaperon, riho consented. It was a midnight affair, and after supper there' Was music. Katie was in great spirits. " Slid' told stories with a delightful trace of 'brogue, and was as witty and full of blarney as her old dad and all his long line of ancestors. She sang, not a song from the musical comedy she was in, but one of those quaint old. Erin melodies sho had heard Tommy Welch sing at the hall over Scully’s grocery the night Murphy brought tho piper in. It was tho hit of the evening, and she had to sing again and again. Spencer was in a dream, his friends were overjoyed, and Katio was happy. , The night before Christmas, Spencer’s friends planned to return the honour and givo Katie a■ party of their own that would outshine anything in chorus girl society. _ Katie was willing, and promised to sing. .She called ou her mother in the afternoon and took her a littlo present. She noticed in the cigar store under tho flat that they find cut her picture out of a paper and pasted it on the window. Katie smiled and the boy inside throw her a kiss. When she passed through the stage door at night a group of girls saluted her: — ‘ ‘ Hollo, Miss Popular!’’ Sho did not understand, bub when she reached the dressing-room she understood the full meaning of the remark. Her dressing table, the chair and all tha space abonb it were piled high with parcels. It looked like a Christmas Eye revel in an express office. “Alyl Oh, my, my!” she exclaimed, and then her eyes filled with tears and a big lump came into her throat. The overture came, and then the curtain. Tho girls went, on the stage, and she was left alone. Sobbing with joy, and because her heart beat so fast, she looked over tho wonderful assortment. Such a lot of presents, and all from Spencer’s friends —everything in the world a girl would want. Then there was a silver comb and brush from Mrs Hogan and her assistants, and, to prove that all show girls are not jealous, there wore trinkets from her friends in the front row. Then she went on tho stage and threw every bit of her heart into her voice. The end of tho perforraanccr came.- AH of the girls were" in'U parties,.and, it was the night of Katie’s party. She dressed and then looked in the glass for a long time. The pretty face mirrored thero did not meet her eyes, for she was looking far away, into the littlo parlour where she had first hung her stocking. Tho mother would be there alone. , , . Katie went to tho door. A big touring car was waiting. It was Spencer’s, and there was no chauffeur. The longing for the old Christmas Eve was big in her heart'and it Jooro an “Where is Air Spencer?” she asked the stage doorman. “He just stopped around the corner,” was tho reply. There was a messenger hoy standing in the doorway. “Are you busy?” she asked. “Nopej” answered tho boy. “Then como with mo, and be quick, and you, too,” sho said calling a stage band. In five quick minutes Katie, the stage hand, and tho messenger hoy had carried all parcels from the dress-ing-room and thrown thorn into tho automobile. Katio nervously watched for Spencer, and unknown to her ho was drinking her health in wino at tho chop house near by. “Can yon run an automobile?” sho said to the boy. “A little,” ho answered; “mo faddor drives an auto coal cart." “Never mind,” .said Katie; “jump in.” “Where shall I go?” asked tho hoy, taking- tho -wheel. “Down Broadway and across Union square and down the Bowery. Then I’ll run it.” Tho car shot around the corner and down tho Christmas crowded street just as Spencer and his friends camo

from tho restaurant. Katie had “fixed” tho stage doorman and ho know it was a wild ride, but the boy was doing well, and they turned into the broad street by tho park. “Do you know where 1 can get a Christmas tree?” asked Katie. “On First avenue,” answered the boy. They whirled around to a provision store and soon had a tree and a lot of wreaths in tho machine, then Katie took the wheel and soon arrived before the door of home. The rushing of tho machine and the .sight of Katie brought everybody out and all tho heads "to the window. Grogan camo out of his saloon and waved his while apron. There were scores of barrels to carry tho tree and the parcels upstairs and to set it up, and such a chorus of “All’s!” as all of the beautiful things were spread out. Mrs Corrigan sat on the sofa and wept and Mrs Hogan held her hand. Katie opened a small box and nearly dropped it when she saw a_ gold bar with a diamond studded “K” on it.- "Spencer’s card was on it. She opened another, anti it was a simple littlo bracelet with a scribbled card, “From Tim Kelly to Katie.” She pressed it to her lips and slipped it on her arm. “Ob, I forgot the auto,” sho exclaimed. Picking up a piece of wrapping paper sho wrote:— “Dear Air Spencer:— “Forgive me for stealing ypnr auto, but I had a quick call to help Santa ,Clqns. See you soon, maybe. Tell thorn at the party that this is from A DAUGI IATI'jR OF SANTA CLAUS. “P.S. —Please pay messenger hoy.” Katio pushed th© hoy into tho machine, shouting:— “Comedy Theatre stage door, Air Spencor.” Then sho went hack to tho tree. Everybody in tho neighbourhood cams in, and such a party 1 Ryan bro'dglit up some ryo for the boys and Grogan sent over a case of beer. Father Shea came in and made a speech of welcome, and everyone drank a toast to Katie. When alt had gone Airs Corrigan put her arm about tho girl. “What’a tho matter, child? You sed y cy, war goin’ to a party up town.” “I just couldn’t, mother,” sho said, “I got homesick .for you,” and she laid her head on tho old woman’s shoulders. Outside the boys wore giving her a serenade. “Katio has como homo for Christmas,” said everybody along the block. “Oi’m glad I got that all night license,” said Grogan.