The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1871-12-23
Margie's Christmas Eve.
By MISS SARAH BRION.

1t was the day before Christmas. A cold
still day with leaden sky hanging like
gray curtain over the earth. A day cheer
less enough to make poor little Margie
Hepburn's heart sink, and her blue eyes
filled with tears, as she sat pressing her
cheek against car window, and trying
vainly to catch a glimpse of the sun. Just
one little ray of sunlight would have set
her eyes and heart dancing again, for there
never was merrier little fairy than Margie,
but the gray clouds hung lower and lower,
and she couldn't help being miserable.
Poor child. She was all alone in the
world, with nothing but her light heart
and her trust in Providence to keep her
from despair. Four years ago she had
been left an orphan, and since then the
cold, unwilling charity of her aunt had
supported her at a city boarding school,
She was going now to live with her aunt as
the under-paid governess of tribe of inso-
lent, ill-bred children. She had been trav
cling all night, and cold, fatigue, and
unhappiness had made her cheeks pale, and
her eyes languid, but the brave young
heart kept hoping, hoping on, and trusting
the future to bring her peace and happiness.
"Now, mean to stop thinking about
myself, and look for something else bright,
If I can't see the sum-" she thought, as the
train halted in city depot "There! l
knew I should find something cheerful
What pretty group of girls! And how
happy they look, chatting and laughing
with their friends. They are coming in, 1
declare. Nou, shall have pleasant occu-
patton in watching them"
The party entered; three young girls, all
dark-eyed, blooming, and pretty, and five
gentlemen, young, too, and all good look
ing. The merriest set they were, and evil
IDENTITY, from their remarks, they were
bound upon some very pleasant expedition.
With good deal of hustle and laughter
they were at last seated, and, as they smiled
and nodded farewells to their friends on
the platform, the train went Earring and
laundering on its way again.
party, watched them quietly; and learned
many things about them. She learned
that the two brown-eyed girls with such
dazzling compilations were "Alice and
Emma" and one of the young men their
brother Leslie. The tall, queenly girl,
with skin like magnolia bloom, and
dark lashes dropping low over her black
eyes, was "Adelaide." Adelaide Brent,
apparently, for gentleman whom she
called brother, and who was by far the
gravest of the party, was addressed as Mr..
Brent by the two hazel-eyed girls. Then
there were George and Tom Hardy, two
fnn-loving youths with almost impercept-
ible moustaches, and John Winston, dis
Notwithstanding young man, with very
dark gray eyes, and quiet, graceful man
ners. He always spoke in a low, subdued
tone, but what he said was sometimes
accompanied by smile of intense amuse-
n,ent, and a glitter of the deep gray eyes,
Th,en shout of laughter was sure to fol-
low from the rest of the party, and Margie
would wish she had heard what he said.
Poor little Margie! The merry party
opposite paid very little attention to her
A glance or two from their laughing eyes
fell on her quiet figure, and glinted off
again coldly and carelessly. She was only
a pale, sleepy -looking girl, with brown
veil tied under her chin, and her head pill
lowed on little satchel. A very uncom-
Portable pillow, but she had no warm, soft,
voluminous shawl to rest her tired head
upon. A pile of wrappings, shawls, cloaks,
and Afghans lay upon the seat in front of
Adelaide and Mr.. Winston, and Margie
never thought of wishing they would offer
her one. She only admired the CAV colors
of one of the Afghans, and wished AIDE
aide would spread it out that she might
:. the stitch, for knitting was one of Mar
80, g passions, one which she could not
aff,r, to indulge-worsteds were too costly,
e.neci. lily "high colors."
IN r. tiled the train over long bridges,
!b;ob emb. enkments, and dull-looking plains.
Mile after mile was passed. It was nine
O'Clock, and the train, after a prolonged
shrek from the engine, darted into a
GLOOMY depot and stopped; its arrival
being the signal FOR the deafening ringing
of bell, and no arse shout of "twenty
minutes allowed for breakfast"
breakfast! Margie thought with longing
of the comfortable steak and oysters, the