The Delaware ledger. (Newark, Del.) 1879-19??, 1883-11-17
BRIGHTEST AND BEST,


said Jones, ioyfully; to merry Christ
mas.
"Ah, it seems as il / could scarcely
wait"
''The click-click of the machines
was keeping up a noise like the descent
OF a gigantic hail-storm along the mar
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 | ong
strips of cloth under the gllttering
needles.
outside, the December sky was al
ready darkening for the storm-clouded
sunset, and piues and cedars that
trlnged the mountain side, were tossing
their arms wildly to the wind.
Ruth Harper's machine was next 10
that of Mary Jones.
merry Christmas-is it, then, so
merry to your she repeated, with
slight smile. Oh, forgot, You have
q home.
YES" nodded Mary, IAN our peo-
pie are coming back to the old home
stead to spend Christmas. We are to
have tree, Just as if we were little
children, and grandpa is to hang
present for each of us on its branches.
And we're to have a ride over the hills,
and a dance. On it will be fun. But
Ruth, why don't you go home for Christ
mas2" she questioned, eagerly.
81 have no home" said Ruth, shrug-
ing her shoulders, Except at Mrs.
Lltfert's."
Christmas at boarding-house,"
said Mary, with arched eyebrows, "Oh,
that can't be pleasant at ALL"
Just then the foreman came striding
past,
"We're going to turn off steam dl.
rectly," said be. at 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 a wild and desolate
place In these chill winter twilights,
sAd some Of the girls lived several miles
away.
And presently the sixty or seventy
hetnds are dispensing In all directions,
sosne laughing and pelting each other
with snow-balls. Some striving against
the keen northwest wind. Some clus-
tered in little knots--sonle all alone.
Amongst these last was Ruth Harper,
and as she decended the steep mountain
path, where the monster pines rustled
nysteriously in the wind, she repeated
TO herself:
Merry ChristmasI 1t is merry to
every one but me. Why should l be
shut out from the general rejoicing of
the worldf And 1 will not bel I'll
make merry Christmas for myself.
I'll go to old Mrs. Cappels, the lone
hest and most forsaken creature, except
myself, that know OF, and wen spend
our Christmas together. Perhaps
some human kindness aud companion
ship will cheer her up little. 1 am
quite sure that it will do me good and
keep me from turning into mere lump
OF seltighness.
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 had 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
commercial enterprise had entered into
ther lonesom glens- when she had
fancied thatJohn Capped, the handsome,
restless grandson OF this very friendless
old dame with whom she proposed to
spend her solitary Christmas. cared a
little for her. And then life seemed to
assume more roseate hue, aud all the
world was different for awhile.
But John Capped went away and
never told her that he loved her. He
was coming back when he made his
fortune, he said, with that sanguiue
alriness which belongs to one and many.
But he had never 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
as possible,
''What is the useH" 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 quart of rosy cranberries.
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.
Hnnllar and @ nuarfar 10 n c,ood lo,'
to pay for cake" she pondered. But
then, Christmas comes but once year,
aud grandmother Capped used to bt
fond of ceke."
Mrs. Liffert, the boarding-houst
keeper, was there, pinching bony turkeyi
under the wings, pricing forlorn looking
geese, bargaining tor damaged apples
and wrangling over shrvelled punches
OF celery. She looked keenly at Mis-
Harper.
''Eh2" said she, "fraid 1 won't Civ,
We enough to eat? Buying fruit ant
cakes for YOURSELF"
NO." said Ruth quietly, 81 am go
ing to spend Christmas with a friend.
I'VE don't make deduction of singh
day of, said Mrs. Liffert sharply,
'Neither do expect 1t of you," SAT-
Ruth biting her np.
And the boarding house keeper wen
chuckling on her way.
Old Mrs. Capped sat, all alone, in tn
dreary little cabin, perched high up o
the mountain-side.
The wind was from the east-a quartz
that never agreed with her rheumatIsI
-and the fire smouldered, and ne
oatmeal porridge had been scorched b
the widow Perkins, who came in, b
fits and starts, to edo" for her.
1t amt no USE" said Mrs. Cappe
"It amt decidedly comfortable, liyln
this way. And Betsey Perkins has fol
got TO bring in the wood. The teapot
put up on the high shelf, where can
reach 1t; and--bless mel who's TIL
a-tappin' at the door2 Come in, VIII