American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1874-04-18
GIT MIGHT HAVE BEEN"


GIT NIGHT HAVE BEEN"
I WAS horribly lonesome What could
/ do with myself. 1t is only abou
Christmas time that the responsibility o.
my individuality hangs heavier upon me
my business engrosses me for the mos
part; for l had been more successful in
money matters than in any other interest
In life. But now the holidays were here
Everything in my neat chambers was
orderly and comfortable, and had q real
satisfaction in the feeling that they be
3onged to ne. But how lonesome they
were! A fellow just passed my window
with a covered basket on one arm, and on
the other a happy-looking woman chat
tering gayly as she walked. Well, /
might have had wife if it had not been
for Charley's per6dy-yes, and Emma's,
too, for / suppose she was as much to
blame as he was.
wonder if either of them were to
blame? Love goes where it is sent, they
say, and really suppose they could not
help loving each other. Poor Emma
Proud, splendid woman; l should like
to know what her fate has been. 1t
seems strange that / have never heard
one word from them since that Christmas
Eve on which they eloped. She was to
mas; but Charley was younger and hand
somer than /, and there were
such brilliant indications of genius
about him. Strange that they
have not been realized; and surely they
have not, or should have heard. On, if
could only see them again! l had for
given them both before the expiration
the first year, in my anxiety about them i,
for how could l forget the charge of my
Husn~ rnnfhorS stToko hin, porrl - oho
said; be good, and tender and true to
him all the days of your life. No matter
with what ingratitude he may repay your
kindness-forgive him not only seven
times, but seventy times seven. Be to
him more than . brother, my trusted
child NIL my vacant place for him. Say
10 yoursel-it will be true-there is no
crime ON earth that would cause my
mother to cast one of her children out.
The more abandoned, the more wretched
they become, the more my affection shall
comfort and solace them; until, at last,
with patience that never wearies and a
zeal that never flags, and love whose
strong wings bear all burdens upward, l
will land them within the portals of that
eternal home where sin and sorrow can
come no more forever "
And now four years had slipped down
the thread of time, each adding to my
anxiety, until felt that 1 would gladly
give all my accumulated wealth for the
sight Of their dear faces once more.
will get away from these torturing
thoughts, said will go out and seek
some adventure, praying my good spirit
to lead me where 1 can make a Christmas
for somebody, though I may not have
one for myself. I put on my wraps and
started. The streets were thronged; how
brilliantly the lights shone, and what an
array of Christmas cheer they illumined.
And then to see the toys! Oh, if only
had q child to make happy with a gift.
Why, here is a whole bevy of ragged lit
tie urchins, shiveriHg around a pastry
cooks window. Now, good spirits,
whose duty it is to inspire us to generos-
benevolence tonight; but l will make
these youngsters happy if you will grant
me some reasonable recompense. So /
called them in, and bought as they d.
rected; they were SO engrossed and so
joyful they forgot to thank me, and de-
parted with arms full of good things for
their different homes. But when they
were gone, the old lonely feeling returned
to me, and I thought uncomfortably of
my bachelor Christmas again.
I passed the next day somehow. l
gave good deal to the friendiess little
ones on the street-God's children-still
holding firmly by my compact with my
spirit friends, and asking frankly for re-
disbursement. Why mott Have not we
the promise that, If we cast our bread
upon the waters, after many days it will
return to us?
On Christmas morning, as passed out
of my door, l found child sitting quiet
ly on the step, eating a bunch of raisins
He booked SO hearty and so comfortable,
though poorly clad, that at first thought
he must belong to some of my neighbors
But no: had looked at all of these SO
longingly and so tenderly, knew them
as well as if they had been my own. 1
thought I'd speak to him.
How d'u do, young man?''
"Dood morny," he said slowly, in a
rich baby contralto.
did not know what to say next. No
matter-he did He took q wet raisin
from out his rosy mouth and handed it to
me.
Amt 90 hungry, poor man ?" he said.
declined his hospitality, but his lips
quivered, and tears came into his eyes.
o yes" said quickly, seeing what
allied him; ~ would like to have some
raisins;" and stopped down beside him.
His face cleared instantly, and he CON-
menced feeding me-alternately putting
one grape in my mouth and one in his.
thought l was doing him a favor he
kneD he was doing me favor, and as the
grapes disappeared began to look uneasy.
"Ain't 90 dot enough ?" he said.
40 no, not half enough YETI
"Es 90 is dot enough, now; dey'll
make 90 SICK" and he actually put all
the rest-a good sized handful-into his
own mouth. Well, it was not fair, but l
reserved my opinion of his conduct, and
asked him his name.
Dotty," he said.
Where is your motherf'
Don't know"
Where is your father?"
Don't know"
"Where do you lives"
Mes doin to live with co."
with mee"
"Es; my nanny tell'd me So"
"Your nanny told you SO: Where is
your mammy?"
Hers don'd off"
What is your mammy's name?"
He looked at me from head to foot,
mentally gauging the extent Of my
idi0cy, and then answered scornfully:
Nanny named NANNY; don't 90 know
dat?'
And she said you were to live with
mep