The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1884-01-02
TWo CHRISTMAS EWES.
pY NELLIE.

) that Louis Atherton seeks her side. Sh
: takes her boquet of starry lilies, an
running down the stairs, puts her bFigh
J head inside the door of the library.
"Are YOU busy-may I come in, papa ?
, and at the words the gentleman ad
dressed thrust something hastily into
drawer. and looks up with smile Ehicl
fails 10 hide the tense line about hi
mouth and the marks Of care upon hi
brow.
4 am never too bu.y to attend to yol
Jessie, what is %
How do look if yoa plesse?' witt
/ q little courtesy.
You know what you always seem Il
me. my darling" he says fondly, bu
there il a ring OF pain in his tone, tha
/ the daughter is quick to catch.
+ Papa, what is troubling you? sh
asks Wistfully. Won't you come will
me to-night-it will do yeu good"
No, my dear, not tonight. | hav
/ some work TO do"
Work! on Christmas Eve saucil,
imperative. Put it By and come witt
me
No Jessie It must be done"
Then let me stay with you"
/ And miss the reception: Certainl,
no., 90 and enjoy yourself. What woult
I Hugh ChalIoner say if | allowed such
thingE
/ at does not matter what he would say
/ with an impatient tap of her slipperet
( foot
Il hope il viii matter some day" h
returns more grayely.
! There, goodnight, Jessie taking
/ the mothefless girl in his arms for +;
( brief instant, as theaseryant announces
/ the arrival of her chaperon, and she
/ trips gaily away little dreaming of th'
cloud that is soon to burst over her, fol
I Horace Ford, the New York merchant
stands tonight faci.g death and dis
honor
For weeks he has been staving off the
crisis, keeping up appearances and breath
ing no hint to Jessie of any trouble. but
now the facts can be no longer hidden
from the world, and his proud name
must be dragged in the dust. Cnlucky
speculations; then to retrieve them the
use Of a trust fund which cannot be re-
placed, tells the story, and feeling that
he cannot bear the shame and disgrace,
the drawer Is re-opencd, and its contents
a silver mounted pistol, is once more
laid upon the table
In the meanwhile, Jessie is the gayest
Of the gay, for Louis Atherton's ozark
locks almost touch her own in the
whirl of the dance, while his musical
voice whispers soft nothings in her ear,
As he debates mentally whether to pat
the question now that will bind him fast
to the heiress, for whose thousands he
has such admiration, OF hold himself
free a little longer, and Hugh ChalIoner
leans his tawny head against a pillar,
casting now and then q reproachful
glance toward the girl who has been his
IDOL from childhood days, and who, be-
fore the advent of this stranger, he had
not seemed to love in vain.
And So the night wears on, and Jessie
goes home at last with the memory of
Louis tender tones as he begged for
private interview on the morrow, hint
ing that he has a boon to crave, and her
brilliant ewes grow soft Is her heart tells
her what he Is coming to ask.
But alas. the Christmas morn brings
only woe and sorrow into her hitherto
fair and happy life, for the city rings
with the news Of the suicide of the
wealthy merchant, and ere that horror
dies away there comes tn. rumOr of the
cause, and poor Jessie lies crushed be
meath the unexpected load
And now Louis Atherton proves his
worth by coming no more, and Hugh
ChalIOncr tries in vain TO see her, for
she refuses every one, though callers are
not many in this hour of darkness, and
one day he Is stunned by the tidings
that she has disappeared, aad though he
puts every force 10 work his search "a
useless.
The creditors take possession OF all
that Is available, and after the usual nine
days wonder, the gap closes, the circle
fills, and Horace Ford and his desOlate
Gaught2r are forgotten in other interests
And so a year rolls round and another
Christmas Eve is here.
In a shabby little garret room sits a
brown haired girl, the gleam from the
meagre fire falling ftfully on the pale
face and thin hands that are pinning the
folds Of paper over rich silken folds,
which remind poor Jessie painfully of
the days when the like were her own.
1t has been hard year to her, but she
has managed TO exc out a scanty liyeli-
hood by working at the handsome en-
broidcry, which used to form a pleasant
pastime for her idle fingers, but want
and sorrow have robbed the pretty fea-
lures of their bloom, and tho lovely eyes
Of their brilliant light.
She has learned to feel for the man
who 50 cruelty deserted her in her need,
only-bitter scorn, while the memory of
the days when Hugh Chalioner was her
devoted knight, are often with her, and
tonight as she prepares to return her
finished work, her mind flies back to the
scene of Il year ago, and blue eyes seem
again to look reproach into brown ones
as she recalls their owner.
He could not have cared 40 very
much after all, or he would have
searched for me, she muses., making her
way carefully over the CLASSY pavements,
and shiveriug as the wind cuts around
the corner. 1t is later than she is often
out. but her ewes were dim to-day with
unshed tears, and darkness had fallen
ere the last thread was fastened, so she
hastens on rapidly through the streets
thronged with merry, happy faces, her
heart growing sadder at the sight of the
Christmas joy in which she has no
share.
She reaches her destination, delivers
the parcel and waits for the sum which
is her due, but the servant returns with
the message that Miss Stacy is engaged,
and she must call again.
Indeed | cannot wait, says Jessie'S
trembling tones, 81 need the money to-
night" but the man answers that his
mistress is dressing for the opera and
canuot be disturbed, so he steps inside
the warmly lighted hall, leaving her on
the marble portico alone.
She turns to go but the thought of
cold. fireless room and an empty cup
board causes her to pause with the re-
solve TO see Miss Stacy for herself, If
possible; perhaps, if she can speak to
her in person and explain her necessity
she may be paid; so she begins to walk
slowly back and forth in front of the
handsome residence, where carriage is
already drawn near the curb.
She has need of patience, for it is
nearly an hour before the door is un-
closed, and the young helress with .
gentleman in attendance, comes out chat
ting merrily, and Jessie courage almost
fails her, but nerving herself she takes a
step forward saying beseechingly:
''Miss Stacy, viii you please -
"What does this mean@ interrupts
the LADY haughtily, allow dare you ae-
cost me in this manner@'
s'But if you will only pay me for my
work. she pleads, 81 need"
'Bsgone!' imperiously; Il viii settle
your bill next week, and dismiss you
from my service. The impertinenee of
such people is too annoying turning
to her companion who has stood SPELL
bound during the short colloquy, his
blue ewes fixed on the pale but unmis-
taxable lineaments of the sewing girl,
and now forgetting all else, he catches
her hand, his tones ringing clear and
true.
Jessie, nv dear little Jessie, have /
found YOU at last" while the girl who
has not before noticed him utters low
exclamation Of surprise, and Miss Stacy
stands in angry amazement.
sPardon me- he SAYS to her cour-
- sflS,2k I hs.,e Fr,sty,s7 a., r,1ff frsar,fl