The National tribune., 1883-12-20
EDITH'S CHRISTMAS.
Showing Once More How 1t Is Always Darkest
just Before Dawn.
by Kate Bro,cnlee SIlerarood.l
CHAPTER I.

For twenty hours the snow had been falling,
softly and caressingly at first rs the spirit of
dream upon the sleeping infants cradle; then,
swept by furious wind, driven in eddies and
whirls, with harsh, grating sound on Edith
Warren's low rafting window
Awaking from q broken sleep, the young
girl opened her eyes, to see, with the first dawn
OF day, the tiny white fakes as they sifted
between the sashes and already lay in a little
furrow on the narrow sill.
Edith's sweet face was very troubled. What,
with vain endeavors to coax little warmth
into her hard, cold bed, with its light, worn
covering, and d new unrest and anxiety, added
to her usual solieitude for the comfort of the
helpless little sister who lay by her side the
night had been long and bitter one.
With an audible sigh, which was in itself a
prayer, Edith arose, tucking the scant clothing
more closely around the sleeping child, who
already had the extra warmth of her sisters
cloak over her. with shawl wrapped snugly
around her little limbs and feet.
The prayer was now a thanksgiving uttered
in words as she rapidly hurried on her dress
and shoes the rest of her apparel she seldom
removed when the weather was so cold and
fuel so dear as now There WAS no thought of
kneeling, no choosing of language. petition.
1t was simply: Father, / thank Thee that Bes-
sieat least has slept soft and warm" Edith's new
solicitude was for Bessie's Christmas. For days
she had been studying and planning how she
could deny herself some crumb nom her daily
necessities to buy some pretty gifts for the
expectant little one, who, for the first time,
had come to know what the holidays really
| meant But, though only two days interviewed
now until the merry Christmas eve, she had
made little progress toward the desired result
Only the very poor know what hopeless lux
uries lie in holiday cake and Christmas
! doll.
Edith crossed the kindlings very deity IN
her little stove and turned on the soft coal,
which IN few minutes was burning eheerily.
Then she set on dish Of milk to warm and
carried out little Bessie in her arms, her limbs
still wrapped in the shawl Little Bessie chung
very tightly to Edith, who was almost smother
| ing her with kisses.
20, Sister Edith, I thought that dear Charlie
and Mr. Cuthbertson came home and we all went
toliye with Mr.. Cuthbertson in beautiful house.
And had doll and you had ring on your
| finger and a purse full of money, and-O dear,
/ got awake then, and guess it was a dream 2"
And little Bessie's eyes were full of tears as
| she looked up into Edith's face, adding I'M
ploringly: Edith, do you think Santa Claus
would bring Charlie and Mr. Cuthbertson and
the doliie if we should ask him."
Little darling" Edith said gently, i
| think there is ONE who will bring them all if
we can only wait long enough for their COM
| ing"
Then Bessie was dressed, and after the two
| had eaten their warm milk and bread Bessie
was left with the kind old lady who owned
the house, as poor almost as themselves, though
once as fair and as gently born, while Edith,
| drawing on her brown hood and mittens was
| off through the storm and snow to stand for
/ twelve hours behind the lace-counter of a fash
| ionable store.
| All that day bevics of ladies, their arms
laden with toys and trihes, tbronged the coun-
| ter, keeping Edith's tired fingers opening and
1 shutting box after box of the delicate, flmy
patterns. And holding dainty barb or jabot to
| her pretty white throat, she looked so fair and
| pensive in her lily-like beauty that many a
! grand dame among them felt that she would
| gladly exchange her gold and jewels for a
| dover of such wondrous loveliness. Thought
| less uninquiring souls, how should they know
/ through what privations and sorrow had been
born that nadonna-like beauty and grace.
8 If they but knew how happy one dollar of
| the money they spend so carelessly would make
| my little Bessie" she thought as she replaced
carefully a half-dozen creamy French caps,
/ with their bright, c0quettish bows, which had
been tossed about with little regard for their
/ expensiveness or daintiness, they would -
She put away the envious thought before it
/ had shaped itself in her mind, and, having q
moment to herself looked wistfully toward the
! gaily decorated windows, bright with their
| quaint Christmas faneies that were to make SO
many happy fresides glad with mirth and
merry making. Then she thought of Bessie's
! dream, but half scornfully, as she remembered
how many, many such dreams and day-dreams
| she had awakened from only to find her own
| dim little room colder, emptier than before.
! Her mind was made up. She would ask her
| employer to advance her a doll for Bessie on
her next weeks wages, trusting to renew the
| inroads on her slender salary by the sale of a
group Of bleeding-hearts and violets, the one
only precious thing she had saved from her
once luxurious home. They were the last
water colors Mr. Cuthbertson had painted be-
| fore he and her brother Charlie had set sail for
Japan, on that long journey of silence and sor-
row. 1T is the sorrow of parting, coupled
with the hope of sweet reunion" he had said,
as he handed it to her in its little frame of
crimson and gold.
But all this was SO long ago, and Edith found
| herself pinching her arm until it ached. How
else could she tell chat she was her own SELF
among such changed surroundings.
Yes, it must &c" she said, half aloud "the
| sorrow is well over, the hope is dead. 1t were
better to have nothing to awaken the horrible
pain of the one or the hooking expectancy of
the other"