Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1877-12-20
NO. 300
Gales and Sketehes.
Written for the Kennebec Journal.
LITTLE PAUL.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
BY ARTHUR STACY.

Crime, like a black, hdeous serpent.
creeps along through the dark streets, al
leys. by-ways of the large city. Crawls
along and stngs-and its sting is full Of
poison-is death 1t loves the darkness.
and abhors the light. Shudders and
shakes its Shiny form when ray of the
natural light reaches it-revels in the
gloom, friend only to obscurity. And
this He sees; this He watches over and
still permits to live. Still lets IL wind its
foul way along the dark places of the
earth as it has done for ages past, and
Stays it not 'God made the country
the city was made by man" All. is this
1t then Does this explain it +? Does He
keep aloof from the busy, bustling, giddy
city. and fail to look into the heart-into
the hidden cOrners--aDd see what Is lurk-
ing there ? 1t would not be right to think
this. All is for good. As long as there
is happiness, light, upon the earth, so
long will there be misery, gloom
But now the streets, alleys, by-ways
OF the large city grow purer--where but a
short time before, there was filth, now is
cleanliness. The serpent crime seems to
have hid itself snugger than ever. What
change! For robe OF purity-white
and spotDss - descends from heaven.
whence all good comes descends on the
poor, on the rich; drifts along clean
places-whrls into dark ones Melts on
the clean cheek-mets on the dirty one .
Blinds the eyes of the fair-darkens the
gaze of the homely. Scatters everywhere.
Covers everything.
Covers little Paul. a ragged boy of the
| street, as he stands this dark night by the
black river. watching, by the aid OF the
Fl nj ltnh MI el.. a.
snow flakes. as they descend. and are
swallowed up in the swelling tide. Loudly
| roars the rver-wails dismaly. Add lit
tie Paul shudders when he thinks how
cold its waters must be. Yet "A little way
| off is crowded, brilliant street, where
beauty and wealth are thronged- where
all is life and joy. The falling snow
lends no dread 10 these. The fortunate
They are warm. They can laugh and
| shout. and scorn the cold. They are hap.
py. And tonight they scatter their money
in the dazzling stores almost AS lavishy as
| the rough wind scatters the snow-hakes
along the street. For it is Christmas eve
And how many of these have thoughts
of little Paul.
There he stands. He is cold. He is
shvering. No one thinks of him. No one
cares for him. The gay world tonight
| would take no more notice of him than the
| cold, unfeeling river that rolls drearily on
at his feet Yet this is Christmas eve. The
anniversary of Christ's birth All, bu,
| many of these busy purchasers do not un-
| derstand it all--many of these gay ones,
| laughing on the street, do not fully COM
prehend all that should attach itself to
| this sacred season-for if they did, they
could not be so happy! The Christian
world has made a custom. Too many OF
| this world follow the custom without
| thought whether it may please Him the
One who is at the head of it all
But who is little Paulp And why does
he stand shiverng therep
Had you asked him the first question, he
could have told you but little more than
that his name was Paul. He knew no
father, no mother. He might have told
you that he possessed vague idea, very
dim, now-of face that must have been
a mo:her's-but that was all He could
have gone no farther. This was all he
could tell of his parents. The street was
his home. And when the night came, il
he could hnd place of shelter of any
kind he was content--yes. happy.for Of
| ten the darkness surprised him, unprovid.
| ed with protection.
Had you asked him the second question,
no doubt he would have been unable to
answer it. There were more pleasant
places to stand in-places where tie wind
| did not blow so wildly, nor bite so sharp
ly. There were places where were
gathered together gay men and
women, laughing boys and girls; and
there were brighter scenes to look upon
| than the black, loudly roaring river! Still,
he might have answered the question.
Perhaps he might have told you that the
gaiety in those brilliantly lighted streets
made him unhappy-made him realize too
deeply his own sad condition. He could
have seen those who were Joyous all
| joy! He could have gazed-till some rude
hand pushed him away-into the bright
shop windows, filled with costly and beau
,iful things; but he could not possess!
What charms for him were there here?
Jostled by the busy crowd. this was not
his place had he wished to stay. Looked
upon with suspicion. he could not stand
beneath gaze like this No. He would
away from the light and gaiety. Into the
gloom. Into the darkness. There was
quiet, though the cold made him shiver,
| there. There were shadows all around
shadows akin to his own life
He was gazing into the water, when a
| hand touched him lightly upon the shoul-
| der. and low. pretty voice said:
"Are you unhappy, Paul, tonight ?"
He turned, and family saw young girls
face, half-hidden by a shawl, a very hand
some face, but one that had been fairer--
face that Paul had often seen before.
''Why shouldn't be unhappy? There
is nothing to be happy for he said. ''God
seems to have forgotten such as US, to-
night ~
''He has forgotten US, Paul; all the
world has forgotten us!" Then the girl
shvered, and drew her shawl more close
ly around her, as she continued: "But l
might have been happy; it is all my own
fault; oh. God it is all my own fault that
| am unhappy, wretched, despised ~
She stepped few steps nearer the water
and looked into the dark stream. She
shuddered and drew back
What makes you this way tonight
ICoptinued en- fourth page.I