Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1875-12-29
MRS. DUNN'S CHRISTMAS.

It was Christmas Eve in Mrs. Dunn's
oozy parlor; the backlog blazed and
snapped with a gooG will, as if it re-
membered the days when the sunshine
crept into its heart; the candles burned
with a clear radiance on the mantle.
Outside, the snow fell and drifted
against the window pane, the wind whis-
tied loudly, as if to drown the Christ
mas bells, that now seemed far away, asd
anon rang out like clarion calls. Mrs.
Dunn herself sat before the high pol
ished fender with her knitting-a wo-
man who had been pretty once, but no
longer young now, with her hair quite
gray, and the traces of the tears that
time had dried upon her pale cheeks,
one might have said, just as the show
ers of long past ages have left their
prints On the stifened soil. Mrs.
Dunn's tears had, indeed, been shed
long ago. but they burned yet SO surely
as the twilight of Christmas eve fell
about her. Tonight Der houseful of
boarders had all betaken themselves
to their several ways, this one to spend
the holiday with his partners family,
that one with his mother In the country,
the other with his sweetheart, till no.
body was left but Mr.. Royburne-a
man as gray and worn as herself-who
had only his violin with which to keep
Christmas. He sat now in the chimney
corner, drawlnging the bow across his
violin, and bringing up long-past and
half forgotten scenes by the necromancy
of his chords and melodies.
''One feels the need of home on
Christmas eve, Mrs. Dunn he said,
presently, breaking off the air of ''Auld
Lang Syne' suddenly. 'sNot but this
chimney corner is as much home as
I've ever known, and no bad substi-
tute; yet-perhaps it's only senti-
mentality, but when man reaches my
time of life it goes hard with hi1a to
remember that he has found. as the
poet says, his warmest welcome at an
Inn"
''No doubt, no Doubt p sighed Mrs.
Dunn. 1T seems as If a boarding
house were only way station to some
thing more permanent. That's the way
1t used to seem to me when was TWEEN
ty-fve. Do you know I've got kind
of dread of Christmas eve as much as
I used to love 1t; it's sort of landmark
now that shows how far we've wandered
from the hopes and promises Of youth.
AS you say, it's night when one needs
a fireside, in its true sense, and love
and friends, and ell they expected to
have when life was young" and Mrs.
Dunn s voice t,embled and broke, and
Mr.. Royburae drew out chord thai
sounded like an 'samen," 9'You may
laugh if you will at an old woman like
me-" she said, when she had recovered
herself; 'sbut I had blow in my young
days that I've never got the better of
q love affair.
Yes? Let those laugh who win.
We all keep corner OF our hearts
where no one enters"
"And every Christmas time the pain
bites deeper, till it seems as if could
not bear it, just as an old wound is said
to throb and ache at it's anniversary. +"
Mr.. Royburne tapped his violin gently,
as much as to say, We know what
that is but he locked curiously at his
landlady. Having lived two years I'M
der her roof, and found her efficient In
ali the practical affairs of life, and
always cheerful, it had hardly occurred
to him that she had a more tender or
romantic side, though he knew her to
be companionable and even sympathet-
ic, and with something IN her air, a
tone in her voice, chat brought up the
image of a fair woman he hid loved
long ago:
ssIt was when I was barely twenty
fve,'' she continued, st ought to have
outgrown it and him by this time, but