Morning journal and courier., 1883-01-18
BeryI NTcClOskeyss Chrfstm@s Gift. fFrom the Chicago Tribune

"A sad Christmas indeed.n
 It was pretty face, albeit stained with tears and weary with watching, that was
 raised from the snowy-white pillow that lay
 upon one end of the fautenil as Beryl Mo- Oloskey spoke these words. And just then
 as if to mock her repining, @ great gust of | wind beat the big rain-drops against the | window panes more fiercely than ever and
 the bare, black limbs of the old oak that l stood near the veranda of Brierton Villa | swept through the air with noise that was
 almost human in its mournfuIness. As the girl sat there, the frelight just
 touching the disordered masses of bronzed
 hair and bringing into strong relief with it's ftful flashes the pale, sad face and slender
 form, the French clock on the mantel struck | eleven.
 Beryl knew by this that it was nearly five o'clock.
 'I wonder if there is another girl in all the
 wide, wide world as miserable as I am ?" she exclaimed. q who have everything to make
 me happy-health, a pleasant home, loving parents, and everything that money can pur- chase. And yet am miserable oh, so nis erable !'' ; "You can never be happy, my darling" | said Mrs. McCloskey, who had stepped qui- etly into the room through portiere, ''until you strive to make other lives brighter, other hearts glad. It is only when we have
 brought sunshine into homes that have been bleak and dreary and desolate for the want of it-only when we have seen eyes that were dimmed with tears sparkling with laughter-that the true meaning of happi- ness comes to us, and it is revelation in- deed"
 'eYou are right, mother" said Beryl, the look of discontent leaving her face even as she spoke, land your words have taught me lesson that I trust will not soon be forgot ten"-and rising from the fauteuil she stepped to the dressing case and began work ing the powder puff.
 t'Why, where are you going, my darling ?" asked Mrs. McCloskey, as Beryl began to ex- hibit unequivocal symptoms of getting dressed.
 s'To-morrow you will know all," was the reply, and after turning the hands of the French clock back seven hours the mother returned to her boudoir. -..-.-.
 In little cottage which stood at the foot of Huckieberry Hill lived the Widow Perkins and her only child, daughter. Pansy Per kins, although born to struggle with poverty, was endowed with beauty of face and fig ure such as rarely falls to the lot of any girl Having been eighteen years old for three consecutive summers, she was just budding into womanhood-just crossing the boundary line, upon one side of which stands youth, with rosy cheeks and laughing eyes, and on the other maturity, with all it's nellowed charms and ripened graces. But as Pansy Perkins sat by the freside beneath her moth CTS humble roof this Christmas eve tears of sorrow and disappointment were eoursing 1 down her pretty checks and around the riant 1 mouth that the buckwheat cakes knew so l we'll there was an expression of pain-a sad, l can't t-find my-chewing gum look, which told l too plainly of great grief that had settled | on her young soul.
 Presently there was knock at the door, | and Pansy answered it. The visitor was i Beryl McCloskey, the heiress of Brierton l Villa.
 II have come to see you to night. Pansy," she said, 'because it seemed to me that to girl who is almost alone in the world Christ | mas time must bring with it many thoughts | and recollections that are far from pleasant
 "That is true," replied Pansy. Two | years ago last Christmas I fell down while | skating and broke my bustle.''
 sAnd so," said Beryl, scarcely needing the | interruption, T resolved that one Christmas at least should be to you 8 time of happiness and that is why have come here o-night You know that, apart from my fathers for tune. am rich in my own right, and you must not refuse my gift, which you will find in this little package. Always be kiad to your mother, Pansy, and try to make her life pleasant" and, turning, Beryl was about to leave
 But what is your present ?" asked Pansy.
 'I have," said Beryl, smiling sweetly as she spoke, 'tgiven you my second best bang" From the FreTach of Matrat Hdlstead,