Sharp County record., 1880-01-29

was the glass front OF Je"eIel >,
sparkling and glittering with jewels and
gold, and bright flashing wares; and
again, it was a toy shop whose windows
and counters and shelves were buried
under load of tin carts, pranclng
horses in impossible attitudes, wonder
full dolls with rolling eyes and squeaking
voices, strangely carved animals whose
prototypes never entered the ark, tum-
bling lacks and Punch-ike figures sud
denly appearing from the mysterious re-,
cesses of innocent looking boxes, and
picture books filed with the finest
Mother Goose melodies; then buStling,
busy store crammed with velvets and
laces and ribbons and fine lady custom
ers; then book store, displaying, in
tempting array, volumes in blue and
gold, and richly embossed coverings,
and thus, as far as he walked, old Bullion
saw flashing lights, and well filled shops,
and smiling shop-keeper, and laughing,
happy people. And the happy fathers
and mothers he saw; the shouting, crazy
children making the streets echo with
their mirth, or gazing in enraptured ST.
lence at some wonderful and deeply
coveted toy; older sisters searching for
gifts for parents, or, more likely still,
for attentive beauX; the beauX, too,
purchasing little tender offerings for
those same maidens. Who could have
helped feeling joyous amidst such
scenes? Who, but that would have felt
a warmer glow in his heart and kinder
1 feeling for his fellows? Who that would
not have felt younger and stronger and
better, aye, purer, for this merry Christ
mas season?
Who, save old Bullion, the hard-fSted,
hard-hearted old Bullion?
"Stuff!' " Nonsense!n "FOOlS amt
all dead yet!n "Such a waste of
money!" were the various CALCULATIONS
he indulged in on his way home, and
only buttoned his coat the tighter when
a little beggar, presuming on the greater
charity of the season, ventured to ask
the crusty old man for few pennies
Even the hearty "Wish you merry
Christmas!" of his acquaintances, as he
passed them, irritated him, and he
growled more fercely after each new
salutatiOn. So, when he reached home,
he was in no amiable mood, but grOwled
at his houSekeeper, swOre at his Serv-
ants, found fault with his dinner, and
ended by locking himself in his library,
with bad spirits on his table, and in his
heart, to keep Christmas Eve alone.
Poor old man! Poor old Bullion Poor
executiOner of his own happiness !!
Would nothing soften his hard old
heart?
Sitting by hislire, slipping his brandy
and water, old Bullion actually fell
to thinking! Not so strange thing to
do, say you. Perhaps not for you, but
for this old man it was. "What'S the
use of thinking ?n he would say. 81
don't want to think; | won't think!' y
Nor would he, for thinking only brought
up before him ;1flll scenes that he
tried very hard to forget. However, on
this night, in spite of his firm resolutions
to the contrary, he did actually fall into
train of deep thought. Perhaps it was
the brandy and water that caused it; or
the Joy and merry making in the streets
or it might have been the faint prick
ings of the conscience he had smothered
for so many long years; at any rate, he
did fall to thinking at tremendous rate.
At first his thoughts seemed to run on
the events of the day, and occasionally
he would mutter " stuff nonsense" "
"waste of money! "merry Christmas
humph! merry fools, more likely!'
showing that his temper was yet con-
siderably ruffled. Then he would sip a
little spirits and dash his glass down,
exclaiming, Father of twins! father OF
twins. What won't the lunatic do next,
l wonder" All, Tim Wilkins, your
red-faced babies have much to answer
for already. Look at this old man who
can not drive you out of his thoughts!
After while, however, old Bullion's
thoughts seemed to be running in a new
channel, for his face became shade
paler, he moved uneasily in his seat,
and his glass remained untouched.
Falling back in his chair he closes his
eyes, and remains quiet for some mo-
ments; then starts up suddenly, rubs
his eyes to assure himself that he is not
dreaming, and stares into the glowing
CRATE. Oh, old Bullion, there are dimly
outlined pictures in those hot Goals that
have at last stirred your hard old heart.
Gazing breathlessly, tremblingly, he
saw, as he had seen long years before,
a little brown house among the New
Hampshire hills, in whose humble
kitchen were seated two persons, one
himself, the other the trusting, loving
girl to whom he had given his heart
when it was softer, purer, and more
loving one than now. Something like
a tear glistens in his eye as he recOg-
nizes the girls beautiful face, and invol-
UNFAIRLY he stretches forth his hand to
her, but at that instant the picture van
ishes. He looks again and sees SIM
pie bridal party in a country church,