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Updated: May 22, 2025
We were absolutely down to bed-rock that year anyway. We gave each of the boys a ten-cent cap-pistol and five cents' worth of caps they were in their Paradise. I mended three shirts of Carl's that had been in my basket so long they were really like new to him, he'd forgotten he owned them! laundered them, and hung the trio, tied in tissue paper and red ribbon, on the tree. That was a Christmas!
At each report of a cap-pistol a block away, Carl would dash out and vehemently protest to a group of scornful youngsters that they would wake our son. As if a one-day-old baby would seriously consider waking if a giant fire-cracker went off under his bed! Those were magic days. Three of us in the family instead of two and separations harder than ever.
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