Weekly Trinity journal., 1861-12-21
From Godcv's Indv's Book
= CHRISTMAS STORY.
BY MARY FoRMAN.

Mr. Curtis sat alone IN his oiiCe 1t was Just at
the turn Of day, when the shadows in the corners
were softly trooping forth to turn the twilight
into darkness. There had been unusually pain
rul cases in the court upon that day, and the law
vcr's brow wore look of thoughtful sadness and
he leaned his head on his hand with an air of
WEAKNESS which was at variance with his strongly
marked fsaturcs, and the energy of his usual
movements and words. Rousng himself after an
hour of thought, he lighted his room, and then
sat down to write his first task was the follow
ing letter -
M dear .ifaaam: II grcres me- both as an old
friend ami yoW professional adriSer, 10 hare to tell
gou that or last hope fdiiea 10 ddB You hare as
SHyC4 me from tie commencement Of the suit that y0H
looked for oHcr issue, and most sincerely trRSt
that he blotc ,cH be ightcaed By the anticipation Of
the result Of oAu eGorfs. In am toag that can
be of service To yoU, aAote NE to assure you that il
tcW be mg highest pleasure 10 be enp'oye!. Hopmg
that y0u ,eU call upon me for any adpice or assist
aace that goU a'ay need NOE, dHt
Yours cay truly, A. CURTIS.
Mrs. T.. Barclay.
lie had scarcely finished writing the direction
Of this epistlc, when loud ring at the bell an
nounced visitor lIa-ooked up to see at the
door small, childlikc figure, dressed in mourn
ing. with veil over the face.
"Mr. CARTS belevc," said q very sweet
voice, and raising the veil The lady showed face
to match the gentle accents. She was very slight
aud small and her fair smooth hair, large blue
eyes, and small features gave winning childish
look TO her face, with which close widows cap
and heavy black attire make touching contrast.
Mr. Curtis rose instantly, handed the lady
chair. and then waited TO hear her crrand.
"Nou are Mrs. Barclays legal adviser be-
lcvc."
81 am Mrs, Hastings; your uncle would know
me WE'LL but since | left home, fad have
lost an old friend in his death,'
- have heard my uncle speak frequently Of
Mrs Barclays friend, little Claire.''
"Ycs am 'tuc Claire returned from
Europe yesterday, aud for the first time heard
of'--tha blue eyes were filling fast" Of dear
Mrs. Barclays troubles. | came here instantly
to ask you to tell me aii for the accounts here
vary
~ should he" Mr. Curtis paused
You are u lawyer, said Mrs Hastings, smi
ing, "and | am making blundcr, see, in my
request, Did Mrs Barclay, or your uncle ever
tell you anything about me Y
Only that you were a very dear friend of the
lody's"
"Then if will not weary YOU. will tell you
my story, aud you shall then Judge whether 1t IS
best to answer my questions Seven years ago,
last Christmas eve, | was made an orphan. My
father was a drummer in the orchestra OF one OF
our theatres; my mother embroidered collars.
One evening, Christmas eve, there had been
pantomimc at the theatre in which my father
scenes, and in passing from the rear of the stage
to the front, he fell into trap which was invsl-
bic in the dim light. and was killed Instantly
they brought his body home, and the shock,
acting upon frame weakened by toll, poverty
and illness, too much for my mother she went
from one swoon to another, and died in my arms
lust as the dawn Of Christmas peeped into our
little room | was then Just fifteen years OF age;
for the day which brought this weight Of sorrow
was my birthday.
"My parents death threw mo upon the world
utterly pennicss, and was very young, sir.
am telling you all this to prove how much owo
to Mrs Barclay. My parents had been poor from
my birth, yet | was not wholly without cluca-
ton NV father had q natural genius for clocu
ton, and had trained my voice for reading, while
my mother taught me to sew, and an old violinist,
a friend Of my flthcr's had given me instruction
IN music. could read, play on the piano, sing
and sew. so, after / had seen all my parents
property sold to pay their funeral expenses,
started with brave heart to make my living
You may well shake your head. had not one
friend out Of The theatre, aud there was no money
to spare amongst them, so went, in my childish
hope of obtaining work, from door to door. | was
very small, and some smiled pityingly, some
contemptuously at the idea Of trusting the little
waudcrer with sewing. whole week passed,
and had not earned one ceAt. Then tried the
stores there too, failed.
:" was leaning one day against the counter OF
"a store where embroidery was sold, and where my
timid petition for work had met is last rebuff
was crying, for was cold, hungry, and hopeless
kind hand was placed on my shoulder, and
low, sweet voice said
- You are in trouble my child what about|
" looked mp. Such a kind loving face bent
over me- and such tender, plying eyes looked
into mine, that 1 was warmed aud cheered in
slantly.
If you please | said / want some work
g. Work, childT'
"' Yes ma'am, embroidery ! can do it
Mother taught me = and them encouraged by her
sweet face and interest | told all my troubles
will not weary you by any more details. Ny
qucstioner was Mrs Barclay she took me to her
own house, aud four years she was a second
mother to me | was educated and protected,
while every wish of my heart was gratiiied
could talk for week and not tell hall the
love aud kindness she poured out upon the little
orphan child, and il was not given az If were
dependant upon her bounty, a charity ward, but
every gift was sweetoned by loving words and
actions. | was told to call her Aunt Lizzie, aud
She introduced me TO her friends as her child,
making me her equal in station; aud yet | had
no real claim upon her; IL was her own loving
heart that found its return in what alone | could
give my gratitude and affection.
"When | was nineteen years old | married,
and In parting from me, my dear benclactress
gave new tokens of her loving care. will not
dwell uponm married life, its grief is too recent.
We went my husband aud myself, q Paris and
for two years travelled through Europe, Ten
months ago, Mr.. Hastings died in Florence OF
malarions l1ver | was very Ill for long time
after was widowed, but in the kind letters re-
ceived from home, had no hint OF Mrs. Barclay .
troubles, aud when she requested me to change
the address OF her letters, she did not say that
she had been forced to leave her home, the dear
home where she had made my life so happy. Not
until yesterday, when landed in New York, did
| receive the last intimaton Of the change OF my
friends prospects, and | came here as soon as
possible. | have just arrived in the city, and | |
came to you as the person who could best give
me the information which | seek.
"My husband left me wealthy, and am sole