Seattle daily post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, W.T. [Wash.]) 1881-1888, 1883-12-25
GeeD WILL rowARD nsx.
For the Posr. sr.Ixrx1.IroEn1

and the wind busters more and more
frightfully each miaute; belated travel
era bury through the streets as fast
as the darkness and snow will let them,
keeping close TO the buildings and try
ing to find some shelter from the
cutting wind which takes away their
breath and makes them hurry all the
more towards the snug freside which
each one knows is waiting. Even the
lcIcles Seem determined no. to be ont
On such a night, and one By one they
break from the caves above and come
rattling down to hide themselves in the
friendly bosom OF the snow. Soon the
streets ere altogether deserted. even the
watehman drawing bis coat tightly
about him and standing close in the
shelter of an open stairway. Surely such
another night was never known.
In an attic chamber remote from tho
finer streets, where CLEANS of light still
peep through half open curtains and
merry laughter rings behind warm. pro-
tecting walls, an old man bustles about
and seeks to maize his room as comfort
able as possible. He pushes a paper
under the door to shut out the chill
wind that ciU creep in at every crevice,
places the candle on the mantelpiece,
stirs up the Pickering fire and sits down
before the red GOALS. A sour enough
looking old man he is, with sharp fea-
lures and face that never can relax
into q smile; his hair, though, is white
and beautiful. and still clusters around
the broad brow as if it cannot yet make
up its mind to be anything but the
brown, curly waves of long ago. Ger
tainly the white hair is beautiful, but
nothing else in the old mans appear
ance can be called attractive. With his
grim features and his hard, relentless
mouth, with lips that shut together with
savage frmness, he is evidently not a
lovable old man.
He pokes the FIRE again and draws
closer. The night is cold; there can be
no doubt Of it. The old man is now
almost over the blaze, stretching out
his hands and rabbing them together
in the grateful warmth. looking all the
while deep into the mysteries Of the red
GOALS. The candle meanwhile flickers,
sputters and goes out; but he is 30 ia
tent on Watching the dancing figures
that como and go among the glowing
ashes that he does not notice the dark
ness around.
The wind blustsrs and Aies around
corners with noise and clatter, as il de-
teYmined to wear the snowdakes out in
their dance but above all the noise and
clatter there now rises faint murmur
as Of some one singing in the distance.
Tho words cannot be distinguished.
Only the broken, fitful murmur sounds
above the storm, rising and falling With
hz 1v~01 vSa - AhA 80
the Christmas sarollers singing their
pest. TIE sound pieroes 20 tho dim
| in his reverie. He froWns, looks sOurer
than ever then dreamily wonders what
| the song u about. and sits listening to
catch the words. Only the murnur oan
b heard, and even that 10 dying away.
But now there IL an instant's lull In tho
tempest, and the words Of the singers
strike sharp and clear
"Peace on earth good ciN to,cdrd
nssn"-the same words that have sound
cd en- the air Of every Christmas Eve
since the angel chorus first gave them
forth In Wondrous harmony.
Fudge r. mutt0rS tho old man,
Peace ON earth IL all very we'll, and
Wish that all were poaoe bat ~ for
'geod will toward men, that 10 differ
ent. How can l show good will to
knavish set Of beings, wh0 have never
shown me auRht but struggle and trial
and sorrow Good will, indeed -
He looks around the bare room with
q ecowl, and thinks bitterly of the
wrongs and injustice Of his life; thinks
Of tho disappointment Of youth merg
ing into the sorrow OF manhood, aud
the dull despair of age. "'Good will in
deed - and he tries to forget the song,
muttesing q curse ON the singers
But he cannot forget. Tho words
keep sounding In his ears. Good will,
good will" The very air seems to ring
with the hateful melody. He leaves his
chair and walks up and down the room
with the sc0wl on his face deepening,
and an oath coming now and again
from between his clenched teeth. His
newly recalled thoughts of the past
seem to render him frantic. After q
time be becomes calmeY, and tries to
reliRht tho candle, but il will not burn.
He sits down and again gazes into the
Goals. Other memories come ruahinR
on him. and the fairy flame land within
the embers 10 peopled now.
"Good will towards men," Yes. he
remembers. He sang that song once on
| Just such night as this, but that was
sixty years ago and far over sea. That
Christmas comes back to him; the last
ono spent in happiness and peaoe. Other
/ Christmas times come up; pictures OF
memory mellowed by time and sorrow.
How joyful they we're, I'd how happy
he was. He sees his father, his mother;
and the storm eyes grow softer-and
there was that sturdy brother, too. the
companion Of his boyhoOd. Poor boy
He sank on the plain OF Waterloo. and
there he rests. And little sister; dead
too. dear girl; long dead.
"Yes. that was peace on earth bat
good ~ill toward men, I'll never. never
wish. How can /? ! hate them--hase
them ALL"
Nov comes another memory Of the
past, aud once more he passes through
that last home Christmas Of his life; ht
sece again the parting with his Mary
. darling girl, and tho white head bow
with long forgotten grief. He seee he
nov ~ he saw her last, With the brav'
little face smiling. while the dear blu,
eyes we're nlied with tears Of parting.
"How happy We vere," he murmurs
and how little vs thought that partiu,
was the last. Poor girl, better, far bet
Ter, that she died. The long, long roa'
would have weASied her, and she woul,
have been very tired now-vcry tired
poor little Mary"
The fire is dy ing nov. and the whit
head in sinking lower and lower. h
aits there thinking and long gazing int
the slowly expiring flame. Anothe
sound il heard above the Storm without
the soand Of bells which hail with gla'
harmony the Chrissmas morning. The
seem 10 ring ont those same old word,
"Pssy On earth: good ~iH toscasd nses.
His lips shut together hrmer and dru
or, and he mutters = defiance 10 th
spirits Of the bells.
Hatred and sorrow and tro0hle {
men; curss one and all; curse them
ouHoe them
He raises his hand in the frenzy OF b
passion. He fairly screams, and trif
70 drown the sound Of the bells With th
sOleun vehemence of his ourse.
The tire takes new life and blaxes q
again. He is oonsciocs Of prsssnce