Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-01-09
NO. 8.
Gales and Sketches.
UNCLE POMPEY'S CHRISTMAS.

/
bunches of which still lay scattered around
IN the Jublant confusion of preparation for
Santa Claus. On a table in the centre OF
the room stood Christmas tree, studded
with tiny wax candles OF more colors than
one old-ashioned rainbow ever dared to
assume. Boxes and bundles lay every
where on the table, on the foOr on the
sofa, on the corners OF the mantlepiece-
some with the papers torn away or the
tops pushed aside others still neatly fold
ed and the twine uncut. A fashionable
doll in "a miniature ph9ton occupies the
hearlh-rug, rocking-house with flowing
name. extended his legs in the bow win
dow, and the piano was laden with bon
oons showed temptingly through their pa
per lace. Some few articles had already
been placed upon the tree, and two ladies',
with heads thrown back and arms extend
ed were still engaged in decorating it when
Il servant entered with bundle Here
is some work, Miss Helen, Mrs. Radcliffe
is waiting in the hall, she says she would
be very glad to have the money 10 night"
Take it up stairs out OF the way, said
Mrs. Dale, land tell herr Hang that bu-
gle higher, Bel; we shall wish il higher
still before Rob has done with it; and az
James, just tell Mrs. Radcliffe that she can
come tomorrow it isn't convenient to-
night. (Now for the magic casteD Tell
her to come tomorrow, James"
Mrs. Radcliffe, standing in the hall re-
ceiyed the message and turned away, but
AS she caught glimpe of the parlor with
its glow and warmth and brightness, and
there swept family through the half
open door the perfume of oranges I'd
eyergreens and flowers. she thought Of the
ln ~ -.
OF the throat, and, turning back. she said
in a husky voice, Tell your mistress she
will oblge me very much ii she will let
me have the money tonight"
| "Oh. nonsense" exclaimed her en-
ployer, with an impatient shrug OF her
shoulder and her eyes fixed on locket her
sister was fastening to branch OF the
tree-"nonsense 1t is only fifty cents,
and what good can tiltycents do any body
The handkerchief? Isn't it exquisite
Go back, James," she continued. with her
eyes fixed on the tree and her mind only
hall on what she was saying; but. God
forgive her. she was only thoughtless and
did not mean to be cruel-"go back.
James, and tell her she must come to-
morrow; | can't attend To- it now"
Mrs. Radcliffe silently closed the hall
door and went out into the darkness. her
heart aching for the disappointment that
awaited her children, and swelling with re-
sentiul feeling toward the rest of the
world. She had been Il happy wife. but
the war had deprived her OF her hus-
band. She had been reared, like vast
number OF other women, to be simply low
able, and when her crowd OF servitors had
melted away. and there was no strong
arm to shield, she was totally unprepared
for combat with the world. and soon found
herself driven to the wall.
Her original home had long been sold,
and she now occupied basement room
in a tenement-house. and had no one to
serve her but Uncle Pompey, who was as
poor as herself and nearly a hundred
years old, but, who, feeble and tottering,
crept every day to her door. that he might
split her an armful of wood. or '.tote"
some water, or perform any little menal
office in his power. He had belonged to
her father, and had dandled her on his
knee when her head hardly reached so
high; and though she was now SO poor,
and he no longer at her command, the
old instinct of attachment and habit of re-
spect remained in force, and he was as
deferental to her, and as tender to her
children as ever he had been in the dear
| ola Gays tnat were gone.
Mrs. Radcliffe passed down the street,
pushed right and left by the lively
crowd, trying very hard. poor little wo-
man! to keep out of peoples way. but
succeeding in avoiding one person only
by jostling against another. Uncle Pom
pey had been taking care of the children
while she carried her work home. and now
as she stood a moment on the threshold
| hos in Unit Oh
saw touching picture, though poorly
lighted up, for there was no cradle, and
but mere handful OF fire on the wretch
ed hearth. On the floor. with her hands
clasped over her knees and her brown
ewes fixed on Uncle Pompey, sat Lottie,
little girl about five Years old, her rusty
black dress scarcely hiding the toes that
peeped from her forlorn little shoes, while
on low stool. with his head and shoulder
resting against the iireside, was boy very
little older, and so scantily clad that one
could not be surprised at his cough. Uncle
Pompey held the youngest on his knee.
with his arm around its shoulders, giving
1t an occasional trot as a reminder that it
was not forgotten. Poor old man. He
had had nothing to eat since morning, and
very little then, and was pititully hungry.
Nevertheless he was attempting to sii 2 in
a high, cracke ed voice, tremulous with 20
and weakness, and occasionally patting
with his disengaged hand 10 the great de-
light Of his childish audience. He was
swapping his fingers in the air and wag-
ging his woody head from side to side.
when the door opened aud Mrs. Radcliffe
entered. Uncle Pompey rose feebly as
she did so, and the children sprang for.
ward to meet her.
sit down Uncle Pompey." she said
gently, you cannot hold the baby stand
ing"
''Did you see Santa Claus, mamma ?'
was the eager question. ''Is he coming
tonight ?'' a
She thought the disappointment could
he better born now than in the morning,
yet hesitated TO inflct it, and the children
appealed to her with increased impa-
tience.
Look at the stockings. mamma. Uncle
Pomp helped, +" said Lottie. her mammals
little namesake.
Continued ON fourth psge.J