Northwest enterprise. [volume] (Anacortes, Wash. Ter.) 1882-1887, 1883-01-13
BACHELOR BRINDLE's CHRISTMAS.
"Be merry now. be merry now,
With joy bring in the holly bough;
With song and ( asst and smiling brow

BACHELOR BRINDLE'S CHRISTMAS.
"Be merry now, be merry now,
With joy bring in the holly bough;
With song and asst and smiling brow -
Bachelor Brindle gives the half
burned log in the fire place kick
that sends the red sparks flying, and
wonders crustily where that bit OF
rhyme, strung on half-forgotten
fragment of melody, comes from and
how it happens to chant itself to him
so persistently tonight. 1t is dis
NAL night. Outside high east wind
shrieks and squeals, skirmishes
around corners and echoes away dole
fully in every stray cavernous retreat
and nook. Within bursts of tawny
and scarlet fame light up Bachelor
Brindle's favorite apartment, big
low -ceiled and comfortable, yet wear
ing the air of careless disorder pc
culiar to a bachelors apartments.
And Bachelor Brindle, listening to
the winds boisterous whistlings and
plaintive minor chords, becomes
cross grained and even misanthroph-
ical.
"Song and feast" he mutters
grumbly, "holly, etc. Humph. Gam
monl Where's any holly, and who'd
go dragging round in this slush and
sleet to bring it in? What's set me
to thinking Of"
"Christmas eve," chants the tea
kettle swinging briskly over the
blaze.
"Crickeyw is Bachelor Brindle's rep
rehensible exclamation, $50 it is.
like to have forgot it."
As if sprinkled with some subtle,
magic powder, the freight, flicker
ing, quivering, dancing, suddenly
lights path across the floor, through
the cottage walls, beyond the murk
and mist, far into the past, where a
CHEEKY Christmas fire is burning
there are busy hands aud hurrying
feet and merry voices; there is an in.
toxicating flavor of holiday cheer
there is song and gladness; there are
bright-eyed cousins, troops of rela-
t.ves and friends, and radiant among
all, romping, black-eyed girl with q
turned up nose, who wore scarlet
| jacket
sand had temper enough for two. ?
grunts Bachelor Brindle. There Is 9
dim spot in the path of light. "Hali
your. fault" sings the tea Kettle cheer
fully. "More than half" snorts the
wind belligerently, coming in puff
down the chimney to back the tea
kettle. "Twas, twas, twas"
A momentary lulling Of the ag
gressive wind, and a soft sputterine
in the red Goals brings Bachelor
Brindle's mind back to his present
lot.
"Snow," he mutters with shudder
"Time was when the idea brought
only foolishly bright visions of sleigh
rides with her, Of frolics and fun, and
oh, what's the use! They're all gone
she among the rest, and I'm forlorn
old soul with no one to SO much as
cook Christmas dinner for me-un-
less I could coax Aunt Nancy over
Christmas eve! bless us. What an
old wretch was to forget it,"
Bachelor Brindle gives the fore
stick discontented poke, and turns
to light the tall lamp on the shelf
then brings forth his old-fashioned
brown Bible, and once more follows
| the sweet story of the beautiful Babe
and the first Christmas morning
while without, the wind tosses and
whirls it's feecy white burden about
at its own erratic will
y y ~
ugh! what a depressingly un-
Christmas evening, Christmas evep
Nab Lacy caught her breath, and
clutched at her veil with both hands
as the rampant gale, charged with
millions of sleety needles, swooped
around corner and nearly blew hel
off the steps of the grim, tall, narrow
chested house with its gray green
shutters, the bit of white paper tackled
against its door bearing the faded
otice "Furnished Rooms for Rent
revealing its nature and character
istics.
"Shelter is shelter such night as
this, If it is the waste and desert
gloom of Malone's establishment with
its mackerel scented halls and roachy
corners" she continued, plungine
into the shadows of the long, dim
hall, and feeling in the dark for hel
door knob; ''with all its faults it is a
haven of refuge from = mercy,
Peggy! What ara you tumbling my
furniture about and stopping my oil
cloth up for? And whose is this big
barn of a trunk?" m
The stout maid-ofzall-work, on her
l knees by the desolate little box stove
arose with a red flannel fioorrclott
in one hand, and bar of yellow soaI
| in the other, eyed Nab doubtfully