The Penn's Grove record., 1883-11-17
AND BEST,

SAA hAA@SS a
mas. -I.8
"Ah, it seems as if N,rould scarcely
wait" y
'The clicE. click of the machines
was keeping up a noise like the descent
of a gigantic hail-storm slong the mar
O W looms of the factory, the steambelts
that supplied the motive power were
whirling swiftly, and the workers,
ranged in a row, sat guiding the on8
strips of cloth under the glittering
needles.
outside, the December sky was al
ready darkening for the storm-clouded
sunset. and piues and cedars that
fr1uced the mountain side, were tossing
their arms wildly to the wind.
Ruth Harper's machine was next TO
that of Mary Jones.
merry Christmas-is 1t, then, SO
merry to your she repeated, with a
slight smile. Oh, / forgot. You have
a home.
eyes" nodded Mary, "All our peo-
pie are coming back to the cd home
stead to spend Christmas. We are to
have a tree, Just as if we were little
children, and grandpa Is to hang a
present for each of us on its branches
And we're to have a ride over the hills.
and a dance. Oh it will be fun. But
Ruth, why don't you go home for Christ
mas?" she questioned, eagerly.
81 have no home," said Ruth, shrug-
ing her shoulders, except at Mrs.
Llfert's." !.
Christmas at a clearinghouse, "
said Mary, with arched eyebrows, ION,
that can't be pleasant at all"
Just then the foreman came stridlng
past.
"We're going to turn off steam d.
rectly." said lie. ut don't fairly pay
to hight up the place at night, and our
hands like to get home afore dark.
Which was natural enough, for Ben
field Mountain was q wild and desolate
place In those chill winter twilights,
and some OF the girls lived several miles
away.
And presently the sixty or seventy
hands are dispensing IN ali directions,
some laughing and pelting each other
with snow-balls. Some striving against
the keen north west wind. Some clus-
tered in little Knots-some all alone.
Amongst these last was Ruth Harper,
and as she decended the steep mountain
path, where the monster pines lustled
mysteriously in the wind, she repeated
to herself:
merry Christmasl 1t is merry to
every one but me. Why should / be
shut out from the general rejoicing of
the world? And 1 will o bel I'll
make q merry Christmas for myself.
I'll go to old Mrs. Cappels, the lone
hest and most forsaken creature, except
myself, that / know of, and we'll spend
our Christmas together. Perhaps
some human kindness and companion
ship will cheer her up a little. l am
quite sure that it will 90 MI good and
keep me from turning into a mere lump
of selishness."
Ruth Harper went home and counted
up her slender stock Of money-not
very much, we may be sure-and IN her
own mind she appointed it to various
kindly uses.
She had been alone all her life, this
dark-eyed factory girl. Her earliest
associations had been the high, bleak
walls and blue-checked uniform of
an orphan asylum. From the very be-
ginning, life mad been a struggle with
her.
There was one time-when she kept
the district school at the foot OF the
mountains, before the factory wheels
had begun to buzz and the spirit of
CONNER cial enterprise had entered into
their lonesem glens when she had
fancied that ohm Capped, the handsome,
restless grandson of this very friendless
old dame with whom she proposed to
spend her solitary Christmas. cared d
little for her. And then life seemed to
assume a mor roseate hue, aud all the
world was different for awhile.
But John Capped went away and
eve told her that he loved her. He
was coming back when he made his
fortune, he said, with that sanguiue
siriness which belongs to one and many.
But he had level come, and Ruth
Harper had put all that part of her life
away into the dark chambers of the
past, trying to think of it as seldom
rs possible.
what is the useP' she said to her.
self sadly.
She went to the village the next day,
after work hours, and bought a little
tive-pound turky, and peck Of red
apples. and a quart of rosy c~ranberries.
And she stood before the bakers wind
ow for some time. thoughtfully con-
sidering which of the Christmas cakes
she should buy, finally deciding on one
rosted over with sugar lilies struck
with scarlet berries.
dollar and a quarter is a good deal
to pay for a cake" she pondered. But,
then, Christmas but once a year.
and grandmother Capped used to be
fond of cake"
Mrs. Litfert, the clearinghouse
keeper, was there, pinching bony turkeys
under the wings, pricing forlorn looking
geese, bargaining Tor damaged apples
and wrsngling over shrlvelled punches
OF celery. She looked keenly at Miss
Harper.
='Eh?" said she, "'fraid l won't give
ye enough to eatP Buying fruit and
cakes for YOURSELF"
"No," said Ruth quietly, 81 am go.
&c ~ oROAa ShAAot14ho Will u lTlt4u,
1--WE don't make deduction of a single
day of, said Mrs. Liffert sharply.
Neither do l expect it of you" said
Ruth biting her up.
And the boarding house keeper went
chuckling OIL her way.
Old Mrs. Capped sat, all alone, in the
dreary little cabin. perched high up on
the mountain-side.
The wind wasfrom the east-a quarter
that never agreed with her rheumatism
end the fire smouldered, and her
oatmeal porIidge had been scorched by
the widow Perkins, who came in, by
hts and starts, to edo" for her.
1t amt no USE" said Mrs. Capped,
1T amt decidedly comfortable, living
this way. And Betsey Perkins has for
got to bring IN the wood The teapot is
put up on the high shelf, where l can't
reach 1t; and--bless mel who's that
a-tappin' at the door? Come in. who
ever You bel Why, if it amt Ruth
Harperl'
az. - - NJ