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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1892-12-15, Page 2CHRISTMASATTH�RN DIKE AT The gray dusk of Christmas Eve, and the keen wind which had been rollicking so bl'thely through the bustlingstreets of'tlid; burg,nipping the cheeks and noses of the kitty folks there, turned dismal the instant it mounted the hill and came upon the old Thorndike place. 1t hashed its shrill, joyous Christmas whistle, and with an augry, hopeless, wail swept down on the gloomy old mansion, and shook it well for being so eat of :,use with the cheery Christmas- tide. Bat little did the grim old house care how the wind wailed or the casements rattled. Still less, did the grimmer owner are as he sat broeding in his library, staring with cold defiance of memory at the blazing hearth re, end letting the darkness settle around him. A gayly whistled tune falling on his ear brought a frowu to his forehead and roused him. He reached out and tapped a bell. The door of the room was quickly opened, and a very preeise.lookinglittle old man stood on the threshold, and said in a low, respectful tone, "Yee, sir?" " Lights, David; and send Henry here." The lamps were brought at once, and s few minutes later a lad of about sixteen years of age entered the room. In a way he was handsome, for he had e. well -knit tenure and regular features; but he was not pleasant to look upon, for there was a dis. agreeable, almost evil sneer habitually on his face. The old man's face grew harder when the boy entered theroom d, "Yon wanted met' " You were whistling that tune again," said the old man, abruptly and harshly ; and then, as the boy merely looked at him ,with curling lip, but silent, he added, "It was a tune of your father's, and I do not wish to hear it," "I did not whist'e the tune," " I heard yon." "I may be like my father"• --rind tho:lgh a slight flits'.i ppass:d over the boy's face, the most notion hle thing was his ugly sn er— "I may even be like my mother, and yet I i am not a liar. I diel not whistle the tune.'' "Never answer me like that" (the old man's voioo was shaking with repressed anger)--"aever again. Mail these letters 1 in the morning." He indicate 1 several scaled and directed letters on the table, "I'd better mail them to night; the Post. ofilse will close early in the morning. nee -ay ?" "Christmas." "Christmas : Batt ! ]fail them to -night, than." The old man scowled angrily at the fire, teen years that Henry had lived with his grandf Cher. luny love had been given him (tering the first two years of his life, he had forgotten it, and conld only recall the fourteen yeersof unsympathetic companion- ship, of cold, silent repression, or of bitter, contemptuous words. Ib was little wonder that he had grown up as unlovely as hewas unloved, that he had learned' to repel 'con- tempt with a, sneer, and to meet reproff with defiane.e. away, and rejoined the children, who were When supper was over, the old man re- } huddled near the door, She took the small - tired to the library, and Henry remained in est by the hand, andwas leading her away, the dining -room to wait for the result of when the little thing suddenly drew back his practical joke. Presently the pitifully and exolaitned, nnyouthful eurl of his lip grew more pro- " I fordot soniefin ;" nouncetl as he mdrmured ; There was no time to stop her, and she " Here they are, on time and in high had run to the old man's: aide before they spirits ! Of course they'd be ontime and in could even call her back. t yen her childish high spirits, since they think they're to get confidence was shaken, and she spoke but something. Won't the old man rave 1" timidly, as she drew a little woolly lamb The old man hid already turned his head from under her cloak Rad laid it on his with a start of indignant surprise, and a knee. - few seconds later he swung his chair about, "I kuy:d it for you," she said, gently. and angrily stared toward the hall. He He started up as if a. serpent had stung had heard such a stamping of feet and such him, and angrily thrust the baby away, a chorus of shrill, joyous voices in his vesti- crying hoarsely : " Off, you brat 1 Begone, Nile as bad not sounded there these many all of you !" The Iittle woolly lamb foll,ethis £eet, and the frightened child staggerede and would havo'fallen too had, not the mother's arms naught her up alai passionately. hugged her " Well, what of it ?" "You 'will give me a little' time, will you not ?" " And why?" - " I had the money ready, but I believed. the letter was genuine and—and the needed many things, and I bonglt them. 1 would like a little time, sir." • I have nothing to do with your beliefs or your needs. On the second day of Jane.' ary the money will be due, and lshall ex- pect it." The tone was so hard, so flinty, that the widow made no further effort, but pressing her hands on her breast, turned silently long years. Perhaps there hacl never sound - e3 such a noise there ; perhaps it was only a trick of his brain that caused• those dim pictures of happy' childish faces to float through his memory. Perhaps. Well, they rutght float there : they should not aflect ham. The bell was pulled, but it did not ring out in ls"te he hearty, free, hri tnasway the sturdy puller had evidently, intended; but rather in a jangling fashion, :as if it would it could, but was really too mob out of practice in jolly ways to do the aping right. The o:d man cout't. hear Da,;id opeu the door, could hear a hushed protest, could heara gsy minglin of "Merry Christmas," tmas," wad man ? Why should he so ugrily crush " It's all right,"Ile sent levees, "Merry aspurn the poor little Loy ? What had Christmas," " Where is hen And then. it done? Alt ! it had taken hint 'off his close to her. ""You are not human," she said. The door closed on them, and .the old man, after staring a moment, commenced a tierce p a ing ai t e room, muttering es he fell • ht theittle t walked. His eye at .. s ,pn 1 woolly lamb, and he strode up • to it'aud crushed it under Itis heel. Then he walked more, sometimes going out of his way to kink aside the lamb, and sometimes stand - mg still and entering his face in his hands. .,.What was it that had so shaken the harsh there was a trooping across the great ha I, and the library door was thrown open by guard, and thrown wide open the door of memory,, so that.the troubling shadows of David. •• Tong -ago -might come trooping forth and The room was swarming with children in plead with him,. They were a l,ittlie'gentlo a moment. There were only six of them, memories of a haitpy boyhoo .dud he scorn-. but they wee very healthy, and were so in ed thorn, He defied them too, and that is t le habit of filling up tbe rooms they were why ho put his cruel heel ou the little lamb in that they acennmodated themselves with and crushed it. 'l'hen the shadows seemed great ease to the spacious library. They were shyenough, too in the•presence of the hard, unmiling old mail, but Pheir chubby sorrowful, and drooped, One in particular, r' • t- little girl, holdingin her a sweet-faced 1 t 6 hands just such a little lamb, seemed to e'teeks were red, and their eyes were snap- 1 gaze at him in grieved surprise. . ping bras:ht, and their hearts were full of He knew the lamb. He remembered it. joy, so they hailed him with a hearty 1 He had himself given it to that sweet faced " eferry Christmas." Piffle girl. 'There ! he could sec himself the lad, with gratified malice on his face, as if he knew the thought of Christmas gave pain to his grandfather, took up the letters and left the house. Snow had begun to fall, and was coming down in great flakes; bat he paid no atten- -Von to it, for his heart was full of bitter, enboyish thoughts of the old man he bad just left, and he strode rapidly down the hill into the town. He posted the lettere, and then, with head bent in thought, turned up the main street. Not with any intention, however, of participating in the least in the pleasures of the Christmas spec= tacle, for not once in all thesixteen years of his life bad he known what Christmas was, and he had come to sears it even as his grandfather did. But as he walked he made a gesture of satisfaction, and ex- claimed "I'll do it. It'll pay him for calling me a liar. He'll go crazy." He walked into a store where he was evidently'well known, for he asked for, and received permission to use their type -writ- er. To that he sat down, and wrote the following, which seemed to greatly delight him: Mr. Ralph Thorndike presents his com- pliments to Mrs. Kate Morgan, and wishing her a merry Christmas, begs to say that in consideration of his friendship for her father, and as a reminder of this happy sea- son, he wishes to present to ber the amount of her interest $50, of the mortgage held by him. He would also say tht e will have a Christmas tree at his house on this Christmas Eve, and will esteem it a favour if Mrs. iVIorganwillforgetpast'unkuindnesses, su'i be pi •'eeent withall her children at eight o "There 1" cbuckled. Henry, "that ought to fetch them ; and won't the old man be crazy when the widowand all of her six brats go trooping in with their Merry Christmases? Well, it'll pay off this score, anyhow." " He directed an envelope with the type- writer, e- writer, for he did not wish to do anything that would bring the trick home to him in case of an investigation, and thenhurried over to the other side of town. He stole cautiously up to the door of a xteat little cottage, and first thrusting the letter under the door, rang ties bell, anis ran away to find shelter behind a tree. He saw the door opened and the letter found, and then has. toned house. Supper that night at the Thorndike man- sion wpas a gloomy, silent meal, But that was siothing unusual: all the meals were at, and always had been (Wring the four. Quiet, subdned, and careworn, but full of happiness and gratitude, the little widow followed her boisterous broad into tbe library. Then only did the hard old man speak. He uttered one harsh word, "Well?" It chilled the little woman, and a start- led look sprang to hor eyes. She turned a trifle pale,.and faltered as she stepped for- ward: Thinking it only his way, however, she advanced nearer to him, and said, with a grateful tremor in° her voice, How can weever thank you, sir?" "For what?"lie demanded, with abrupt harshness. "For your kind gift, " faltered the wid- ow, " What gift?" "The amount of the interest on the mort- gage. "" 1'don't understand you, madam. If a jest, itis a foolish one ; if a pretence, it is an idle one:" "But your letter," said the widow, faintly. - " What letter?" The little woman, struggling at once to 'smile, as if site fain would believe he was joking, and to keep back the tears that her fears urged to flow, fumbled in her pocket for the letter. "There, sir," she said, finally, se she, handed it to him. He took Hand read it,and a bitter con- temptuous scowl distorted his face. - "And," he exclaimed, with biting scorn, "you were fool enough to believe thiit'1 sent this drivel?" The poor little woman glanced' pitifully at the staring children; and faintly bowed her head, •' " You ire your senses," he went on, cut; tingly, " and believed that Ralph •.'Lhorl>. dike would have a Christmas tree and—and"' -he swept the group of children with his cold , aY es and ina tone almost. of hatred added—" these things in his house. 1 did not write the letter. It is what is called a practical joke, I. suppose." • He wheeled his chair around, as if to in ti. mete that the interview was at an end. The widow stared -wildly at him for a moment, started to spcalt. but changing her mind,, choked back a cry or despair thee rove to her lips, -dud wit blinded eyes t urned toward the door, stretching bee' arms out tie if ,he would so prote +t hor dear ones.. ]=Ie. t. u a,v across theroom she stopped and lnrr.t:fi ,auk -,the loving mother bad •cen'it:ere suited woinan. "But the interest, sir," she said to him. now with the toy in his hand that lona ago Christmas night stealing with boyish glee through the silent darkness of the old house tie put the Iamb where the sleeping child would surely sec it the first thing when she awose in the morni.lg. Then he could see the sweet face growing pale and thin ; he could see the tired, weary look in the eyes which still had only love for him. He could see her in the little bed waiting so patient- ly for the longed for relief ; and always, al- ways there was the little woolly lamb nest- ling on the pillow by the pale cheek or cling: ingiy held in the transparent hands. Ah ! little wonder that he buried his face in his hands and, groaned ; .little wonder .that he paced the floor and muttered inco- herent words ; little wonder that in fight- ing the memory that would make the greater part of his life a wretched mistake he should so wrathfully spurn the poor little toy lying maimed on. the floor. But still less wonder that he should ab last stoop down and tenderly take up the little woolly lamb, and then sink, all trembling and broken, into his. big' chair, ,and give himself up to remorse—give himself up to thoughts of that other life which from ite cradle almost he had robbed of all tender - nese and joy. • Ah, well, there might yet he time to save Harry. At least 'he could try to compensate him for his lost boyhood. But first he must hasten to undo tliisnight's cruel work. And the old man, with strange tenderness, began to stroke thelittle woolly lamb, muttering brokenly, the while : "Not human 1 Right, right; end haven't. been these years and years. Struck her, too. Fool, little thing ! Bat die's a child; she'll forgive me." He touched the bell on the table, and David uick]t, ausivered.the euumtons, "Davie,'.° said"the old man, gently and tbeu, seeing him start, .ailcled, "I haven't callecl you .so these many years, have I, Davie? 1, ti T 'r d the faithful old sir answe e i ser vant, looking anxiously at his master. " Oh, isnot sickness, Davie," said the old man,'interprebing'the look,j I'm quite well, DDavie; a merry-Chrxstmas,to you, Davie." "A merry Christmas, sir," stammered David. • " "Arid where's Harry? where's the boy?' "Master Harry, sir—" " Harry, after this, Davis. There's more love In it, Davie .and—and, we'll have a bit of love here after this if we can -if it 7 ,;rl't tolate. Where is Harry?" a Y• " Gane out, sir." "Ab ! Gone out. Nothing; here to keep him even on . Christmas Eve, is there, Davie? Nothing here 1 But there will be Davie -there will he. Get me my slat and coat, Davie, lad." " Bat surely, sir, you'll not go out to- night? It's snowing hard and cold and--" "Davie, I'd not .stay.into-eight if I knew it'd freeze mo. Nay, Davie, lad, but I've found Christmas once again, and I afraid I'll lose it if I don't go out. ' At least, air, Iet.me go with you." " What laud run'the tisk of Hearer cern- hag home and waiting outside 1 No, no, Davie; stay here, 'stay here," The old man would be obeyed ; and leav- ing the anxious Davie to wonder nt the marvellous change in him, he hurried out into the. snow with. a childish eagerness. He hurried through the streets of pidburg, and crossed to the other side of town, where the -widow Morgan lived, He went straight up to the door. and rang the bell. The widow herself opened the door. She start- ed back with a frightened look on her face when she saw who it was. " Oh ! oh 1 Yon, Mr. Thorudike 1" she cried, in au unnecessarily loud voice, as if she wished those inside to hear who in was. " Yes, ma'am ; yes, I. I've come to ask your pardon, widow, for my brutality to you, and—and, please, Mrs. Morgan, be good to nue, and let me into your house. I-1 want to make my peace with that baby." Yes, sir; yes—but--" The little widow was singularly agitated, "Butson, must let me in, widow; in- deed you must, There, the door is shut. Now take me to 'where they are. Oh, I know they hate me, but they'll like me by- and-by maybe. I don't deserve it, but I hopeill pe theyt t • th hard, cold a sodifferent r n e h r e v sfrom l He man of an hoar ago that the widow teas quite bewildered, and did not rppose his progress into the bitting -room. He opened the door and looked -ht. " Oh ! hello 1" he cried. Henry, defiant of bearing and scornful of Hp, stood confronting him, with the chit- dren huddled behind him. " You here, Harry 1" cried the old man. "Now I'm glad of that, but don't look so at'me. I've come here, Harry, to ask Mrs. Morgan to forgive ine, and to beg the chil- dren's pardon. ••And I want you to try do forgive, Harry, boy." The old man's votes was broken, bet he went right on. " I've led you a cold, haril life,, Barry. I thought, because your father displeased me, I had a right to treat you so. 1 was wrong, Harry. There's shy hand, -Harry ; surely you can take an old main's hand. Why, there I'm crying. Harry, bay, your hand, please." The defiance and the scorn melted out of the young face, and pity and wonderment came in their stead. He took the outstretch- ed hand in botif of his, and sobbed out ; "Oh, sir, forgive 211s1 I sent that let- ter," " You 1 Oh, Barry 1" - "It was to hurt yore sir, not them. Oh, sir, when I Saw them in their distress I could bare eaten my heart out with shame and remorse, and I eame here to make it all right with them." "Harry, boy, call me grandfather." " Yes, grandfather." "Mrs, Morgan, do you forgive a wicked old man who is heartily sorry 1" " With all my heart," And you, little ono, will you? And will you kiss me?" "Es, sir. Did you pit up de lamb where ib failed clown?" "I did, and it shall be buried with me when I die." There zeas a Christmas tree that year a. the Thorndike house. THE 1 ERIAL POKW DER D PUREST, STIRONGEST9 BEST. Contains no Alum, Ammonia, Lime, Phosphates, or any Injuriant. E. lfifn l[iAA.e - nc2©, Ont. ON .,,*,.,... rntddty and 1Fnuornhl}L b,•y *limo of either sex, young01 0111,111111 i14e1r own leralitlex,4 StI to vvve F key ,1fid e,Any 0110 11 110 1b- all:.,Lux-to PM/.We furnish everything, we start yon. 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