American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1875-01-09

heavier, and when we tried to start TIN
Jaded horse baked and struggled through
the drift, for the stage had frozen fas
where it stopped.
1t was three O'Clock now, the light il
the west growing DINNER and DINNER
the gloom OF the mountains and the bar
woods coming nearer to us, making thei
meaning felt in our souls filling min
with an awful dread of the snow -covere,
road beyond Ten miles to go yet, tn
night coming quickly on, the cold grow
ing more intense, the road rougher, NOR,
precipitous, the horse evidently givin.
out! But the boy took up the lines, tn,
bright, frank smile upon his face, tn,
CHEEKY word upon his tongue. Good
by" he said, to the man in the door
way
The man stood for an instant in tn,
doorway looking afte. us. "Good-by,
he said
We went on along the road that from
the beginning of time it was ordained
we were to go. | crept back into my
corner
" Do not go to Sleep" the pleasan
voice warned me from the front
THANK you," l replied, cheered anC
warmed by its hearty glow. 81 will no
go to sleep"
Then followed long silence, in which
1 had views of the falling snow, the
| white hills above us, the white hills still
below us, in which heard sounds from
creaking, grooming branches, from the
wind sweeping savagcly past US. Their
uncomfortable drOwsiness fast-cOminl
| darkness-then night.
| felt hand on my face, then on my
shoulder shaking me roughly: a sweet
cheering voice in my ears calling me
back to life.
| Cln "
wake up again." it said.
| woke with a sudden start, for an in.
slant, to a full consciousness of time
and place. was not cold, only sleepy
Il am quite awake" | replied Have
we far to go?"
Give miles," and the voice was still
| the same CHEEKY voice that had heard
| from the first. He spoke to me often
after that then saw him, as in dream,
| fixing blanket that he had taken from
the horses back to the hickory hows
overhead to keep the snow from driving
| in upon me, for l was covered with it to
my knees. As God is my judge did not
| then know what he was doing, or | would
have stopped him. l did not then feel
cold, though l knew afterward that l
was then freezing, and did not think he
was cold. did not think at all l was
far past that. had begun longer jour
| L
In that longer journey l dreamed of
home, of the wOndrous Christmas mira
| Gle, the lighted tree of the glad faces of
| children, whose voices l heard. heard
| one of them repeat two or three times,
with startling distinctness, " We are lost
l was conscious that the child who
said it had thrown herself into my arms
and was lying there a dull heavy weight.
But aside from the cry it was all bright
/ al T..
through the snow, over the rough, dan
| gerOus mountain road in that far-off
December. The dream lasted long
while, through all that night and the day
| following, and the night following that.
When l awoke from it was in a large
room, which l had never seen before.
There were piles OF the softest blankets
upon me, there was great wood fire blaZ-
ing on the hearth, and l had never felt
SO warm and comfortable in all my life.
There were two strangers in the room, a
man and woman, whose faces were
kindly ones, but sorely troubled. When
stirred, and they saw l recognized
them. they came and stood by my bed.
Where am II" l asked of them.
AT Ilium, in the house of the Method
ist minister"
"How long have l been here."
-" Since night before last. You came in
the stage. and the horse stopped before
our door," the man said.
what day is thiss"
at is Christmas Day." the woman re-
piled, taking my hand in hers.
:" have been ill, them"
"Yes!"
There was a boy brought me here.
Where is he?"
"He is here, too" The voice that said
it was husky with tears, and the hand
that held mine shook.
HAS he been ill, too?"
"Yes"
is he better now"
be ill again.
l looked into the face of the woman
who said this, and / saw that her eyes
were red with weeping.
disengaged the hand she held and
turned my face to the wall.
The woman laid her hand upon my
arm.
"You must not feel like that. 1t is
better SO. He had only one friend, and
he is with Him this beautiful Christmas
morning He had no home here. 1t is
Christmas Day. and he is at home there"
took in mine that comforting hand
that lay upon my arm.
al would like to see him." said. " He
gave his life for me-
1ncy took me down afterward to what
had been the family siting-roOm. There
were warm, red curtains at the windows !;
bright, glowing carpet on the floor !;
there were punches of holly and laurel
scattered here and there, and over all
was the atmosphere of home.
They left me at the door. l went in
and stood by the side of the couch on
which they had laid him. The eyes of
tender blue were closed forever, the yell
low hair was parted over the bOyish
brows, and still about the brave, sweet
mouth the bright smile played as it did
at the first moment of our meeting,
when my implied doubt of him called it
there. He lay before me dead, in all the
glow and promise of his youth.
But the smile, which triumphed above
deaths ruin, rebuked me, and as /
stopped to kiss the lips of the beautiful
boy 1 knew, as well as man could know,
that he was not dead; that He who had
given more life to the dead girl and the
| widows son had given it also to him :;
and that he had only gone farther upon
| his journey than Into a sweeter, fuller,
more gracious life than he had ever
known. And l also knew that | should
see him again if but made my own life
| as brave, unselfish, and true as his had
BEEN. CLarke Darts, IN Scribner's
Monthly.
| A Man Win Wasu,t EIatpd Over Be-