The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1878-12-27

ROCK Ell:
A CHRIsTMAs STORY.

A cHR1sTdAs STORY.
III tell you how the Christmas came
To Rocket-no, you never met him,
That is you never knew his name,
Although tits possible you We let MIN
Display his skill upon your shoes;
A bootback-Arab, if you choose
Has inspiration dropped to zero
When such material makes herof
And who was Rocket? Wei. urchiD,
A gamin, dirty, torn and ta:tered,
Whose chetest pleasure was to perch IN
The Bowe-y Rall'ry; there it matiered
But little what the play might oe-
Broad farce or point lace comedy
He meted out his just applause
By rigid, fixed and proper laws
A father once he had. no doubt,
mother on the Island staying,
Which LETT him free to knock about
through e crowded streets. Twas there he round
GouIpanionship and grew renowned
AS good at least Moses rushes-
And for his daily meat and bread,
He earned them with bus box and brushes.
An a rab or the city's slums,
With ady tongue and emPty pocket
But pIucky aIways-thatw was Rocket
Twas Christmas eve, and all the day
The snow had fallen fine and fast;
In banks and drifted heaps 1t lay
Along the streets A piercing blast
And now the stars looked coidiy 6owE
| Upon the SrOw~enshrouded town.
All, well it is if Christmas brings
Good will and peace which poet sings
How full are all the streets 20 night
With happy iaces flushed and bright,
The matron in her silks and furs7
The pompoIis BARKER, fat and sleek,
The idle. well fed lOiterers,
The merchant trim, the churchman meek,
| Forgetful now OF hate and spite,
| For all the world is glad to nighti
All didI say Alb, no. not all,
| For sorrow throws on some its palli
| And here, within the broad, fair city,
The Christmas time no beauty brings
| To those who plead IN vain for pity,
To hose who cherish but the stings
| Of wre;chedness and want and woe;
/ Who never Loves great bounty know,
Whose grief no kindly hands assuage,
| Whose misery mocks our Christian age.
| Pray ask yourself what means to them
| That Christ is born in Bethlehem!
But Rocket2 On this Christmas eve
! You might have seen him standing where
| The city streetsso interweave
| They form that somewhat famous square
| Called Printing House. His race was bright,
! And at this gala, festive season
Y4n could not find heart more light.
| III tell you IN word the reason:
| BY diLt OF patient toll in shining
| Patrician sh ard Wall street boots,
| He had, within his Jdckets lining,
| Collar and Il half--lhe fruits
| OF pinching, saving, and a trial
OF really Spartan self denial.
That dollar and a half was moro
! Than Rocket ever owned before.
/ princeiy fortune, SO he thought,
| And with those boarded dimes and nickeIs
| What Christ mas pleasures may be bought
| dollar and a halt! il tickles
| The boy to say il over, musing
| Upon the moneys proper usiugi
"I'llgo a-gobbler- leg and breast,
| With cranberry ssuce and 'tyxin's nice,
| And pie, mince pie, the very best,
And puddin-Say a double slice
And then to doughnuts how I'll freeze,
With coffee-guess that ores :he cheesel
Aud after coffee III go TO see
! The Seven Gobns of Dundee
If THIS yere Christmas sfn't -stsster
I'll let yer rip my Sunday duster y
So Rocket unused as he hurried along,
ClutchiItg his money with grasp yet tighter,
And httinmrT< theair of a rollicking song.
With a heart as light as his clothes-or lighter
| ThIough Centre street he makes his way,
When just as he turns tue corner of Pearl,
He hears voice cry out in tisthay,
And sees before him slender giri,
] As ragged and tattered in dress he,
With hand stretched forth for charity.
In the street hgif;'s'atful and -iiciZerinR glare
| He caught glimpse o: the pale ,pinched [a ce
so Knunt and wasted, yet strangely fair,
with lingering touch of chidhood's grace
On tne IN .1 delicate teatpres: Her head was bare,
mass OF tangled nut brown hair.
In misery old as in years she young,
I She Rszed in bis face. And, oh for the eyes
The big, blde, sorrowful hungry eyes
That were fixed in a desperate, frightene
Hundreds have 3Ostled her by te-ntyht-
The rich, the great, the good and the wise,
Hurrying on to the warmth and light
And the only one who has heard her cry'
Or, hearing, has felt his heartstrings stirred,
Is hOcket youn RSter OF cOarSer clay,
This RamiD, who never So much as heard
| The beautiful story of Him who lay
In the manger of old on Christmas day
With aTtiess 'bR-ti6 and simple speech.
= She stands and tells him her pittfuI tale;
! A h, well IL those who pray and preach
| Could catch an echo of that sad wall.
She tells of the terrible battle for bread,
- Tells of a.fafher brutal with crime,
| Tells Of a mother lying dead,
: AT this the gala Christmas time;
= | I6en adds. gazing up AT the starlit SKY:
: IN hungry and cold and wish cogld de 7
b What is il trickles down the cheek
J OF ROcket-can it be n tear'2
he stands red 5tsres but does not speak;
: ! Ne, rntfks again of that good cheer
o Witch Christmas was To bring; he sces
| Nisidlrs OF turkey sieufaiRH pies,
! The pla5'OlEs-then, in place of these,
! The girls beseeching, hungry eyes.
One mighty effort guiping down
| Ihe disappointment in his breast,
| eurvering Of the ltp, frown,
| And then. while Pity pleads her best,
| He snatches forth his cherished hoard
And gives IT to her like lerd
Here, freeze to that; I'm flush, you see.
And then you needs it more than me -
! With that he turns and walks away
so fast the girl can nothing say,
So fsst he does net hear the prayer
| Ihat sauctfles tle winter air,
But he VINO blessed the widows mite
! Looked down and smiled upon the sight.
No feast OF st>amfnR pies or turkey
| No ticket for the ma tfnee
All drear aud desolate and murky,
Z | In truth, a very dismal day
! With dinner oa n crust of bread
ana not peny in his DO -Eet
A friendly ash box for a bed
Ihus came the Christmas day to Rocker.
|. And yet--an here's the straugest thing
As best BELTS The festive season.
:, The boy was happy king
wonder can you Btess fhe 'reason7