The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-12-14
four little stockings hung up before the

manlel-plece.
A broad beam of rudy light flashed
out over the snow. A bluh-faced man
bent over him and shook him vigorous
| ". Come, my man. he said, q 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
ately. Tramp, eh?n he calculated.
. Well, even tramp ought to have
shelter a 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
eYergreens, frightened here and there
by sprays of flaming holly. Some
church, of course, but everything
looked strange and unfamiliar. The
bluf-faced man stood on step-ladder
busily engaged in fashioning in ever
green's a 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
2IGW upon ulII 2lOetHCO dAOuA.
The sexton, as he evidently was,
turned around pleasantly. Coming
round, | 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.
"rl 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
II know it well enough don't
want the paper" said the stranger
roughly; then changing his tone, he
added: 81 beg your pardon for speak
ing hastily. just give me the greens
and I'll do my best.
"Well, you are a queer chapp said
the sexton, retiectiYely, :" but Jim
Davidson doesn't 90 back on his word,
and I'll do as | said. Here are the
greens, and you'll find the holly over
there in the corner.
The two men worked on in silence for
some moments; then came a knock at
the door, and the sexton disappeared
for moment. sOnly the rector,n 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
ring-leastwayst 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 it's his own
business, anyway. Well, my lad, and
what is it now?" turning to boy who
had been vainly endeayoring to attract
| his attention.
please, sir, and there's a gentleman
down at your house that must see you
at once-important business
''Tell 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 but a moment
"Well, | suppose | might run around
for a minute or So, hesitated the sex
ton. Then, turning to the stranger,
who had stood silently looking on:
"You'll start the bells for me if
shouldn't get back in time, won't you?
Here are the ropes, and you can easily
get the knack. I'll be back, though,
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, Davidsonp" inquired the
rector, as he put off his heavy overcoat.
"Only q poor fellow that [ 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 lodging tonight. It's bitter
weather to be about outside"
+ 'sQuite 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
easy-chair, 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 face that exacted re-
spect, if nothing more. No one of his
numerous acquaintance 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
seclusion. His past history none knew,
although many conjectured 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
facts.
Rev. Arthur Drayton looked long and
earnestly into the glowing Goals, and as
he looked his thoughts wandered back
to days that had long gone past, and
this is what he saw. A young man Just
entering upon his first pastoral charge,
strong in love and enthusiasm for his
calling. A year of happiness that passed
like dream, and then long days of
pain and sorrow that saw him bending
over the bedside of his wife, watching
her drift away from his strong yet, ali!
how helpless grasp A time of blank
Inconsistencies, and then the laughter
Of his baby son ringing in his ears call
ing him back to take up the burden of
life again. A sweet child's face with
big black eyes and long clustering curls
comes before him now. His eyes are
growing dim, and when he looks again
it has disappeared. The years roll by
all too soon, and now the night is COM
ing on. 1t is in his old church and he
is looking down sternly-unforgivingly
on his son bending for pardon at his
feet. There come hard and bitter words
that he would fain forget; then the door
slams and he is standing alone in the
deserted church listening to the sound
ing moekery of the Christmas bells.
He pushed back his chair from the
fire and covered his face with his hands.
The FIRE sinks lower and lower, until
only little heap of cold and iifeless
| aSbnc ram aipc l,I,t 81; bo tl,ora