NO CHRISTMAS CHEER THERE.
Things Are Gloomy for Forty Boys at
McCune Home.
At the McCune home there are forty boys, and every night there are forty letters or attempts at letters, written to Santa Claus. All of these boys have heard something about Christmas trees and have heard people talk of Christmas and Santa Claus, but few, if any of them, have ever seen the result of the talking. Right now they are all hoping and wishing for a Christmas tree and Santa Claus, but it's mostly hope without expectation. And so far their chances for realization do look far away. No one has yet offered to present the home with a tree or any Christmas adornment to add to the Christmas cheer.
A visitor at the home yesterday was talking to the boys about the day of days for children. He was telling of the mysterious stranger from the North pole, how he made his yearly trips in his huge sleigh drawn by swift reindeer and gave toys and presents to all the good little boys.
"Aw, g'wan," ejaculated one little tot who had been listening with eyes wide open and a look of distrust on his face. "De guy whot youse tell of ain't comin' here." And it looks as if the little boy were correct.
The people in Independence take an interest in the boys of and the home, but since all of the inmates are from Kansas City, the people here are supposed to take care of that part of the institution, and so Independence and Kansas City both pass it by. The little inmates fear that the good fairies who live in Kansas City will overlook them, since they are so far out in the country.
