Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1870-12-23
THE CARPENTER.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.

the armies of Grant and Lee were lock
ed in the death-graPple for Richmond.
and the night of war, involved in incer-
titude and disaster, with lurid CLEANS of
hope leaping and vanishing like can
non-hashes in the smoke ofconfiict, was
vet, unknown to any, darkly working
into its triumphant dawn.
At that time there stood, as there still
stands, in the open country a few miles
north of Washington, the estate famil-
iarly known round about as Elkanah
Dyzer's Place-a place owned by an old
gentleman-farmero of that name, and oc-
cupied by him and his old wife and
their sons. A pleasant face to see at
any time, but chiefly in the growing sea
sons, or in rich summer-Gght, with its
ample slopes of well-tilled farm and or
chard land spreading back from the
dusty highway the light-green crops in
ordered rows and plots upon the dry
brown soil-the pennoned maize, the
wheat, the garden products the gnarled
old apple-trees, and peach and pear
trees, laden with their fruitage here, a
deep-green pasture-feld, with kline and
horses feeding there, the dusky distant
barns and beyond, master of all. and
set far back from the highway, to which
its flank was turned, the large and quaint
old two-story brick dwelling, painted in
a neutral tint made more indefinite by
age, and relieved against broad depth
of dark outrageous woodland, towering
on the other side; high-studded in its
rooms, but seeming disproPortionately
low because of its great length with
stunted chimneys, and a short, sharp
pitch Of forward roof, scooping from the
ridge-pole in long descending sweep to
the dwarfed back end,-a place upon
which one might gaze satisfied, and
dream the old Virgilian dream of teem-
ing earth, and bees, and perfumed
breezes and the odorous breath of kline;
and herbs and grass and the content
ed low of oxen and milk from amber
udders foaming in the pail under the
rosy-circled star and sun-browned la
Dor, and the deep smile of harvests
and life robust, and sweet, and sane ;
and home, with rustic cheer, with friends
with kindred, the sweet and hardy wife,
the sprawl and laugh of sturdy babes,
wealth, joy, large-handed hospitality :;
and plenty Towering over the ravages of
battle. and peace emerging with full
sheaves of blessings and songs and
gifts and garlands, from the cloven
heart of war.
Now, however, the place lay dim in
the winter-light of Chistmas Eve. The
night had set in. Here and there, re-
mote and at wide distances were soli-
tary and sulIen CLEANS in the murk
from the windows of other dwellings,.
No sound came from the bosom of the
dark peace, the deep tranquility, the
winter loneliness, nor was there any
motion save that ola cold and gentle
breeze moving noiselessly through the
obscure and frozen air. But under the
vast night-blue, thick-studded with the
innummerable stars, and beyond the un-
certain shapes of bushes and low trees,
and the dark swales of the farm, the
dim old house showed joyously, with
all its lower windows overfowing with
festal light. and every curtain drawn
away, as if that the living radiance,
composed of the steady beam of lamps
and iovial dance of open flres, might
the more comfort the darkness. If
aught there were to chequer its senti-
ment of Christmas cheer, it was in the
aspect of one window in the forward
end, upon whose Panes the lustre of fire.
light only, flashed and failed duskily,
sometimes quivering up with a bright
struggle, then sinking into a dark glow,
like sense of the felicity of the season
laboring in an old mans breast with
shadows of trouble and care.
A moment, and the fire upon that
hearth. leaping in evanescent CLEANS
amidst the snakes of smoke which coiled
and swirled around the huddle of logs
and fagots heaped in the cavernous
chimney, and conjoined in one great
smoky serpent which fed writhing up
the aue, tapped out in sheets with a
| dense, cracking roar, swallowing them
all, making the Furnished brass tops of
the straddling ire-dogs shine like balls
| of gold, and filling with flood of tawny
| splendor the large old fashioned room,
| antiquely furnished, odorous with the
dry sweetness of the abundant wreaths
of ground-pine which adorned it, and
so shadowed on wall and ceiling with
red-berried, dark-green branches, that it
| looked like a cave of holly. At once
there was sudden movement among
the family all gathered there, sitting or
standing in a group a little distance
| from the hearth, watching the FIRE; and
old Elkanah Dyer himself, who had re-
mained for some time in his huge oaken
chair, with his hands upon his knees,
and look of peevish gloom upon his
massive and resolute features, suddenly
\ sprang up, six feet four, mighty in Drawn,
land magnificent in stalwart age, cut
three clear pigeon-wings in the air with
all the grace and agility of his youth oi
twenty-one, came down lightly on the
floor in grand attitude, with a snap Of
his fingers like pistol-crack, a proud
toss of his naughty head, a stormful and
generous laugh, and deep from his full.
breathed lungs a ringing "Whoop and
aha for the good fire."
There was a general stir, and a mur,
mur of soft, mingling laughter, and al
eyes were turned on the old man admir-
ingly. His son, John Dyer, 4 tall