The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1866-12-08
Dickens's Christmas Story,
MUGBY JUNCTION.
BARBOX BROTHERS.
GContinued.l

early beginning OF November, tne All
was clear and inspiriting, and the land.
scape was rich in beautiful colors. The
prevailing colors in the court of LOm.
bard street, London city, had been few
and sombre. Sometimes, when the
weather elsewhere was very bright in
deed, the dwellcrs in those tents enjoy
ed a pepper-and-salt day or two, but
their atmosphere's usual wear was slate,
or snuff color.
He relished his walk So well that he
repeated it next day. He was n little
earlier ut the cottage than on the day
before, and he could hear the children
singing to regular measure and clap
ping out the time with their hands.
"Still, there is 40 sound of any mu-
steal instrument" he said, listening at
the corner, "and yet l saw the perform
ing hands again, as l came by. What
are the children singingi Why, good
Lord, they can never be singing the
multiplication-table"
They were, though, and with infinite
enjoyment. The mysterious face had
voice attached to it which occasionally
led or set the children right. 1tsmusical
cheerfulness was delightful. The meas
ure at length stopped, and was succeed
ed by murmuring of young voices,
and then by a short song which he
made out to be about the current
month of the year, and about what
work it yielded to the laborcrs in the
fields and farm-yards. Then, there was
Il stir of little feet, and the children
came trooping and whooping ont, as on
the previous day. And again, as on the
previous day, they all turned ut the
garden gate, and kissed their hands -
evidently to the face on the window
sill, though Barbox Brothers from his
retired post of disadvantage at the cor
ner could not see it.
But as the children dispersed he cut
off one small straggler-a brown-faced
boy with faxen hair-and said to him
"Come here, little one. Tell me whose
house is that 7"
The child, with one swarthy arm held
up across his eyes, half in shyness, and
half ready for defence, said from the i'll
side of his elbow
"Phpbe's.'
"And who" said Barbox Brothers,
quito IT'S IluCIl tIib'l lI'lSSt' ~ ms lNi
in the dialogue 40 the rlillu coulu 'oSSi-
bly, be by his, "is PhTbc =
To which the child made answer
"Why, Phrbe, OF course
The small but sharp observer had
eyed his questioner closely, and had ta-
ken his moral measure. He lowered ms
guard, and rather assumed tone with
him: as having discovered him to be an
unaccustomcd person in the art of polite
conversation.
"Phpbe," said the child, cant be
anybody else but PhGbe. Can shep
"No, suppose not" ~
"Well," returned the child, "then
why did You ask me =
Deeming it prudent to shift his ground,
BarhoX Brothers took up Il new posi-
ton.
"What do you do thcrc' Up there in
that room where the open window Is
What do you do there 7"
"Cool," said the child.
"Ehi"
"Co-o-o-l," the child repeated in a
louder voice, lengthening out the word
with a fixed look and great emphasis, as
much as to say: "What's the nsc ofyour
having grown up if you're such don
key as not to understand me =
"Ah, School, school," said Barbox
brothers. "Yes, yes, and Phoebe teach
es youW
The child nodded.
"Good boy"
"Tound it out, have your said the
child.
''Yes, 1 have found it out. What
would you do with two pence, if l gave
it to your
"Pend it,"
The knock-down promptitude Of this
reply leaving him not a leg to stand
upon, Barbox Brothers produced the
twopence with great lameness, and
withdrew in a state of humiliation.
But, seeing the face on the window
sill as he passed the cottage, he ac-
knoweledged its presence there with a
gesture, which was nota nod, not bow,
not a removal of his hat from his head,
but it was q diffident compromise be-
tween, or struggle with all three. The
eyes in the face seemed amused, or
cheered, or both, and the lips modestly
said: "Good day to you, sir"
'I find l must stick for time to
Mugby Junction." said BarbOX Broth
ers, with much gravity, after once more
stopping on his return road to look at
the Lines where they went their sever
al ways so quietly. / can't make up
my mind yet, which iron road to take.
In fact, | must get little accustomed to
the Junction before | can decide" So he
announced at the Inn that he was "going
to stay on, for the present." and i'm
proved his acquaintance with the juno
ton that night, and again next morn
ing, and again next night and morning;
going down to the station, mingling
with the people there, looking about
him down all the avenues of railway,
and beginning to take an interest i'll the
incomings and outgoings of the trains.
At first, he often put his head into
Lamps little room, but he never found
Lamps there. A pair of velveteen
shoulders he usually found there, stoop-
ing over the fire, sometimes in connec-
ton with q clasped knife and q piece
of bread and meat; but the answer to
his inquiry, "Where's Lampsi" was,
either that he was 't'other side the
line" or, that it was his offtime, or (in
the latter CASEY, his own personal intro
duction to another Lamps who was not
his Lamps. However, he was not SO
desperately set upon seeing Lamps now,
but he bore the disappointment. Nor
did he SO wholly devote himself to his
severe application to the study of Mug
by Junction, as to neglect exercise. On
the contrary, he took walk every day
and always the same walk. But the
weather turned cold and wet again, and
the window was never open.
III.
At length, after lapse of some days,
there came another streak of fine bright
hardy autumn weather. 1t was Sat
urday. The window was open, and the
children were gone. Not surprising,
this, for he had patiently watched and
waited at the corner, until they 'rert
gone. 20 so - -
"Good day" he said to the face; abso'