Frostburg mining journal., 1882-12-23
HALL OF BITTER SWEET.
A CHRISTMAS TALE.
BY W. @. HURD.

That Christmas morning--the last
that greeted our eyes-was as bright and
beautiful as might have been the one in
which the morning stars sang together.
A light snow had fallen the day before,
and now lay, pure and crisp, with bright,
transparent edges that shone in the suns
light like diamonds.
1t had been pleasant autumn, calm
and MINDLESS, and therefore the still
green leaves hung here and there moist
and unfaded, with their thin veil of snow
flakes, giving more delicate beauty
Shan their summer splendor had worn.
Under the trees the brown tassels of the
larch had fallen, and now lay like rich,
soft carpet of brown, to which the snow
had just added a tender frosting.
In the town path had been already
worn by the footsteps of little children,
anxiously looking for the coming of those
who were to dispense the gifts Of the
venerable Santa Claus
From every cottage home, and each
higher and more ambitious dwelling,
curled the blue smoke that told of Christ
mas fires already kindled. But from
one, an old house, which had once been
the architectural pride of the village, the
smoke was faint and weak. Once the
house had boasted an ornamented front
and roof but this was of the past.
Other Christmases had shone upon its
brightness but that was in the long
ago. And now decay and desolation
were rife everywhere. The mold was
upon the walls, the worms had eaten the
floors, and the windows were dropping
from their castings.
So with the inmates. There were but
two-an old grayheaded man and woman.
They had been happy in their day-not
rich in the worlds goods, but comfort
able. Time was when Richard Waldron
and his wife was among the first in the
village. Time was when two curly heads
We're lying upon their bosoms-fair,
lovely children as the one you hold to
your heart, young mother They did
not die. God had not taken the fair heads
to heaven; but as years passed on, they
were lost to their parents far more effect
ually than if they were lying in the gray
old burying place.
Stephen Waldron the boy grew up,
the pride of his father, the Joy of his
mother-a bright, active, handsome lad,
with talents above the average, and adj
vantages OF person beyond the boasted
claims of the young cavaliers of old,
whose golden locks and piercing eyes
formed the staple of the poets verses of
their time.
Melanie Waldron the daughter was the
counterpart of her brother in beauty,
but softened to the EXTREMIST delicacy.
IL al l, Jfa,,
to her, her parents and brother sut1icing
to her for all society. Indeed she had no
experience in world knowledge, as may
be inferred; so that when Herbert Aus
tin came from the far-off city to rusticate
in the little village, it was not wonderful
that ut first she turned bashfully away,
nor that afterward she ignorantly put
her trust and faith in him, believing him
to be an angel of light.
Herbert Austin was, alas no angel, or
if he was one, it was as fallen and evil.
The innocent soul of Stephen Waldron
was the first which he essayed to cor
rupt. He taught him step by step to
drink, to become gamester, and grad
ually to commit every fashionable excess
in which he had himself become SO great
an adept.
Richard Waldron and his wife looked
on with troubled fear; but soon all anx-
iety for Stephen gave way before that of
terror Of Melanie. That the child was
learning to love the dissipated collegian
was no longer matter for conjecture. The
strangely excited manner of her who had
been so quiet and gentle, the glittering
eyes that greeted his approach, all be-
trayed that she, too, had been won by
the fascinations of the destroyer.
The savings of Richard Waldron had
been deposited for many years in bank.
They were intended as resource of old
age; or if he and his wife should moi
need them, to be left as legacy to theil
children. This, too, was known to the
deceiver, and Stephen Waldron, in nc
cordance with his suggestions, was in
duced to forge check for nearly the
whole amount upon Austin's assurance
of replacing it.
One crime leads to another, and the
step was short to forgery committed
upon an old and respected citizen, a frient
of Waldron; and in this he was detected
and arrested. Through the cunning o
Austin he found means to escape, ant
at the dead of night he appeared befor
his parents to take n last farewell Sterl
rs Brutus, the heart-broken old man, il
his devotion to justice, gave him III
afresh to the authorities, and his sentenc
was ten years in prison-lengthened +