Dodge City times., 1883-12-20

last Christmas Eve Just ten years ago,
and 1 don't care about trying it again. =
The icy wind was sweeping down colder
than ever, and he began to feel strangely
numb and bewildered. Half-despair-
ing, and yet with an odd sense of happi-
ness, he sank down upon flight of low,
broad steps and leaned his head agains,
the balustrade. Across the street he
could see some one dressing Christ
mas tree some one with cherry ribbons
in her hair-and he smiled rs he
languidly tried to guess who it might
be; then he smiled again as he counted
four little stockings hung up before the
mantel-piece.
A broad beam of ruddy light flashed
out over the snow. A bluff-faced man
bent over him and shook him vigorous
ly. "Come, my man. he said, "this
won't do! Another half-hour and you d
never have heard the Christmas bells.
The man dragged him inside and looked
at him half-curiously. half compassion
atelv. "Tramp, eh?'' he calculated.
"Well, even a tramp ought to have
shelter night like this. Wait here till
you feel BETTER
The stranger looked stupidity around
him. Above his head rose a vaulted
roof supported by lofty columns around
which were wreathed long strings OF
evergreens, frightened here and there
by sprays of flaming holly. Some
church, of course, but everything
looked strange and unfamiliar. The
bluff-faced man stood on a step-ladder
5usily engaged in fashioning in ever
greens motto on the wall. His guest
looked on, fascinated as the sentence
grew under the makers deft fingers.
:" Unto us child is born-unto us a
Son'-it read at last; and as its mean
inc grew upon him he groaned aloud. :
The sexton, as he evidently was,
turned around pleasantly. Coming
round, l see," he said. "Well, now,
I've been thinking that it's hardly right
to send you out again tonight. Sup
pose you stay and help me. and I'll see
you through on bed and breakfast"
"Why, you. don't know anything
about me-" said the other, slowly.
"Tll risk all that. Just come up
here and finish out this sentence.
Here's the rest Of it written out on this
piece of paper"
Il know it well enough-I don't
want the paper said the stranger
roughly; then changing his tone, he
added: Il beg your pardon for speak
ing hastily. just give me the greens
and I'll do my best.
..Well, you are queer chap!' said
the sexton, reilectively, "but Jim
Davidson doesn't 90 back on his word,
and Ill do as | said. Here are the
greens, and you'll find the holly over
there in the corne-."
The two men worked on in silence for
some moments; then came knock at
the door, and the sexton disappeared
for moment. ''Only the rector" he
explained. as he came back and met his
companions inquiring glance. ''He
always comes TO the church Christmas
Eve and waits till the bells begin to
ing-leastways. he's always done so
since he took charge here, and that's
nine years ago. don't know what he
does here and / suppose its his own
business, anyway. Well, my lad, and
what is it now??" turning to a boy who
had been vainly endeavoring to attract
his attention.
"Please, sir, and there's a gentleman
down at your house that must see you
at once-important business"
'tTell him to come up here, Jimmy.
It's nigh to twelve, and I'll have to be
on hand to ring the bells"
He says, Mr.. Davidson, that he can't
possibly come up to the church, but that
he won't keep you bit a moment
''Well. suppose / might run around
for a minute or So" hesitated the SEX
ton. Then, turning to sthe stranger,
who had stood silently looking on:
you'll start the bells for me if
get back in time, won't you?
Here are the ropes, and you can easily
get the knack. I'll be back, though,
l think, in time"
He threw on his overcoat and started
for the door, then stopped, and turning
around with curious expression on his
face, walked up to little closet set in
the wall. Closing the door, which was
partially open, he locked it, and slip
ping the key in his pocket went out in
silence.
"Who's that in the church
with you, Davidson?" inquired the
rector, as he put Off his heavy overcoat.
''Only poor fellow that 1 found
half frozen to death on the steps, sir;
I'm keeping him with me to help dress
the church, and I'm thinking I'll help
him to a lodging tonight. It's bitter
to be about outside"
"Quite right. You might ask him to
come and see me tomorrow. Don't
let me be disturbed just now, though"
Rev. Arthur Drayton, rector of St.
Peters, raked the Goals down in the
glowing CRATE and then, drawing up an
sat down before the fire. A
handsome man, most people would have
called him. Iron-gray hair and beard,
clear, clean-cut features, mouth some
what too much compressed, perhaps
but altogether a face that exacted re-
Spect, if nothing more. No one of his
numerous acQuaintances pretended to
really know him. His parishioners re-
spected and looked up to him, but they
never offered him their confidence and
he never,seemed to expect it. At any
rate, he never showed the slightest dis
position to bestow his upon them He
lived apart, and people respected his
His past history none knew.
although many con iectured that he had
seen trouble. However, there are al
ways Some people ready to set up any
number of theories for any given set of
,actS.
Rev. Arthur Drayton looked long and
earnestly into the glowing Goals, and as
ne looked his thoughts wandered back
% days that had long gone past, and
his is what he saw. A young man just
upon his first pastoral charge,
strong in love and enthusiasm for his
Ealing. A year of happiness that passed