Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1881-12-24

forty year, aud never yet
"Michael," interrupted the pastor,
"that may all we'll be. But, read that
God knows cannot tell you read-that."
Taking the letter which the pastor held
out toward him with trembling hand,
Michael put on hts glasses, went over to
the window and read aye read
A letter from the captain commanding
Geordie's company, which set forth in
brief yet terrible words how after several
days Of almost continual marching and
fighting, and while holding very i'm
pOrtant post at tho extreme left of the
army in front of Petersburg, his son
Geordie had been found in the grand
round asleep on his post, had been at once
ordered under arrest, and was to be forth
with tried by court-martial, the judgment
of which it was feared would be severe.
No effort" said the captain, will be
spared to save the brave and gallant boy.
Nevertheless use all the influence you can
command with the authorities at home,
and make no delay"
Paralyzed as by a mighty grief, old
Michael stood looking at the letter as if he
did not at all comprehend what it was all
into his hand, letter from Geordie him
self, saying in brief yet awful words
"Papa and mamma, what the captain has
written is only too true. God help me
Pray for mo without ceasing"'
The unuttcrable grief there Was in that
quiet country parsonage during those days
of awful suspense, the reader is left to i'm
agine for himself. A gloom as of mid
night settled down on the unfortunate
household. Mr.. Burnett, having taken
every measure to bring such influence to
bear Oh the authorities as to save
his beloved boy from the extreme
and terrible punishment due to his
crime, in spite of the rcassuriDg words of
friends, settled down to the firm cOnvic-
tiOn that Geordie's days were numbered.
For hours at time, there he would sit in
his chair with his head bowed on his study
table, paralyzed, bcnumbcd. deadened,
unable to arouse himself from his sorrow,
too full of an inexprcssible grief to pray or
even to weep Had their beloved one
fallen in the gallant charge, or died of dis
ease, hard as that had been, it could have
been perhaps endured with fortitude, or,
at least, with resignation but this, this
was more than heart could bear.
Gloomy indeed was that Christmas
time in the household. The poor children,
| unable to enter into their parents grief,
or even fully to appreciate the cause of it,
wero yet hushed and awed into a silence,
which strangely contrasted with their GUS
tomary merrimcut at that happy season of
| the year.
And SO the merry, merry Christmas Eve
of 1864 came on. The sleigh-bells sounded
cheerily in the crisp, sharp air, as people
drove swiftly by, and all tho village was
aglow with joy and glec: At the parson.
/ t1n oI,;1 70 1NoA
| early, with no prospect, alas, of a Christ
mas tree greeting them in tho morning
"becausc," said Gertie rs she tucked her
self under the covers, "You see, old Santa
Claus don't like to so to houses where
people arc 50 sorry"
"Yes, he likes people to be glad when
| he comes" answered Rob.
| "Won't Santa Claus come Tonight,
papa?" Little Madge had climbed out of
her crib and gone down in her long night
dress to the study door, where her father
and mother were sitting in sorrow to-
gether,
mo, my poor child, there will be no
Santa Claus for us tonight, fear"
| because we are all SO sorry, papa ,
Santa Claus doesn't like to come to houses
where people arc so sorry. Don't cry,
papa aud mamma, l viii! pray tlle gCOl
Lord to let our GcOrdie live and come
home.'
| 1t was one o'clock Christmas morning
| Yet there they sat, pastor and wife, talk
ing of the happy times gone by-Of Geor-
dies babyhOod and his fine promise of q
noble manhOOd-his brave and gallant be-
haviOr on many u hard fought ticld-and
again and again mingling their tears, and
weeping bitterly as they thought of his
danger and the cruel doom that might be
awaiting him.
"How terrible to endure this untold an
guish, Martha, On this glad night of our
blessed Lords birth ! fear me tho bells,
which should ring out joy to the world Oh
/ the morrow. will do naught but toll and
toll for me-"
"Comc, John,' said she, g we should
be more trustful, it may not be so i'll. Let
us hope for the BEST"
Hope? Aye, wife, have hoped and
prayed, till God Himself seems utterly to
have fOrsakcn me, and loft nc crushed
under this mighty grief-thc Lord forgive
me my want of faith! Hark Did not
| you hear a noise out there, Martlla?'
| There was clanking sound on the
porch, followed by 4 distinct knock thrice
repeated. Taking the lamp i'll her hand.
the good wife went out, opened the door
I-thcrc was 4 shriek-a moan, and 4
heavy fall to tho floor. On rushing out
forthwith, judge Of the emotions Of the
worthy pastor ON seeing his wife fallen in
a swoon on the floor, and bending tender
| ly over her man in u cayalryman's uni
| form!
"Geordie Gcordie! My God, it is
| GcOrdie !; my son, my son
| eyes, father. But it is too much for
POOR mother, fear-lct me carry her in.' -
Now, tho sleep of children is prOvcrbi-
ally light on Christmas night, and SO it
was no wonder the little ones in tho cham
bcr above were awakened by tho noise be-
| low.
"Rob," said Gcrtic.
"Well, answered Rob,
Are you awaken
"Did you lear that noise! | wonder
whether it wasn't Santa Claus trying TO
get in ,"
"Oh, no, Gertic. You know papa said
Santa Claus would not come to our house
| tonight"
"Pll get up aud scc," said little Madge.
Climbing out Of her crib and going to
tho stairway, there she stood, like little
fairy in her long night dress, calling
"Papa! Papa! Did Santa Claus com 0
for all?"
eyes ~ answered strange voice.
"Who are you )" said she. 81 don't
know you. Are you Santa Claus ,"
"Aye, Madgie, my sweet little angel
sister am your Santa Claus tonight :"
Tl,o,, rou~ Dpt fbroun1, tho hon tho