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                              MR. BLAKE’S
                            WALKING-STICK:

                _A CHRISTMAS STORY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS_.

                         BY EDWARD EGGLESTON,

                               AUTHOR OF
       “THE ROUND TABLE STORIES,” “THE CHICKEN LITTLE STORIES,”
                 “STORIES TOLD ON A CELLAR DOOR,” ETC.

                               CHICAGO:
                ADAMS, BLACKMER, & LYON PUBLISHING CO.
                                 1872.

        Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870,
            BY ADAMS, BLACKMER, & LYON PUBLISHING COMPANY,
      In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

                         RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:
                      STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
                      H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.




                                TO OUR
                           LITTLE SILVERHAIR
                   Who used to listen to My Stories;
                            BUT WHO IS NOW
           Listening to the Christmas Stories of the Angels,
                        THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED.




PREFACE.


_I have meant to furnish a book that would serve for a Christmas
present to Sunday-scholars, either from the school or from their
teachers. I hope it is a story, however, appropriate to all seasons,
and that it will enforce one of the most beautiful and one of the most
frequently forgotten precepts of the Lord Jesus._

                                                      EDWARD EGGLESTON.




CONTENTS.

                        CHAPTER I.

    THE WALKING-STICK WALKS                         11

                        CHAPTER II.

    LONG-HEADED WILLIE                              20

                       CHAPTER III.

    THE WALKING-STICK A TALKING STICK               25

                        CHAPTER IV.

    MR. BLAKE AGREES WITH THE WALKING-STICK         31

                        CHAPTER V.

    THE FATHER PREACHES, THE SON PRACTICES          36

                        CHAPTER VI.

    SIXTY-FIVE DOLLARS                              39

                       CHAPTER VII.

    THE WIDOW AND THE FATHERLESS                    44

                       CHAPTER VIII.

    SHARPS AND BETWEENS                             51

                        CHAPTER IX.

    THE ANGEL STAYS THE HAND                        55

                        CHAPTER X.

    TOMMY PUFFER                                    57

                        CHAPTER XI.

    AN ODD PARTY                                    58




MR. BLAKE’S WALKING-STICK.




CHAPTER I.

_THE WALKING-STICK WALKS._


Some men carry canes. Some men make the canes carry them. I never could
tell just what Mr. Blake carried his cane for. I am sure it did not
often feel his weight. For he was neither old, nor rich, nor lazy.

He was a tall, straight man, who walked as if he loved to walk, with a
cheerful tread that was good to see. I am sure he didn’t carry the cane
for show. It was not one of those little sickly yellow things, that
some men nurse as tenderly as Miss Snooks nurses her lap-dog. It was
a great black stick of solid ebony, with a box-wood head, and I think
Mr. Blake carried it for company. And it had a face, like that of an
old man, carved on one side of the box-wood head. Mr. Blake kept it
ringing in a hearty way upon the pavement as he walked, and the boys
would look up from their marbles when they heard it, and say: “There
comes Mr. Blake, the minister!” And I think that nearly every invalid
and poor person in Thornton knew the cheerful voice of the minister’s
stout ebony stick.

It was a clear, crisp, sunshiny morning in December. The leaves were
all gone, and the long lines of white frame houses that were hid away
in the thick trees during the summer, showed themselves standing in
straight rows now that the trees were bare. And Purser, Pond & Co.’s
great factory on the brook in the valley below was plainly to be seen,
with its long rows of windows shining and shimmering in the brilliant
sun, and its brick chimney reached up like the Tower of Babel, and
poured out a steady stream of dense, black smoke.

It was just such a shining winter morning. Mr. Blake and his
walking-stick were just starting out for a walk together. “It’s a fine
morning,” thought the minister, as he shut the parsonage gate. And when
he struck the cane sharply on the stones it answered him cheerily:
“It’s a fine morning!” The cane always agreed with Mr. Blake. So they
were able