Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1885-12-25
DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT.
A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE .

A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE.
'FNow, Charlie dear, do make 1t go as
far as you can, said little Mrs Rushton,
as she counted a roll of crisp, green bills
into her husbands hand rs thex stood in
the cottage door one Christmas eve,
Charlie received them quite noncha-
lantly, never once thinking, perhaps,
how many weary stitches that pale, pa
tent little woman at his side had earned
them with-stitches made in the dead
midnight hours, when he and the little
ones were fast asleep. He twisted them
together and stuffed them into his vest
pocket.
Mrs. Rushton sighed, and looked
wistfully out into the stormy gloom.
"There are so many things we need, !"
she said. ''If could have gone myself +;
but baby is too i'll for that" glancing
backward at the crib in one corner. $50,
Charlie, do the best you can. There's
the medicine for the baby-don't, pray,
forget that-and some coal, and a little
sugar and tea, and a few loaves of bread.
And | did want a turkey for tomorrow
a small one, yod know, Charlie; and a
few plums to make pudding. We can't
afford it well; but it seems so hard for
you and the children to have nothing for
Christmas.
Charlie moved restlessly, but her thin,
labor-worn hand held his arm.
"And some little trifes for the chill
dren, dear, " she went on; "the poor lit
tie things will be hanging up their stock
ings tonight, and it hurts me so to dis
appoint them. Get few candies, a d a
knife for Tom, and a doll for Annie =
some little things that won't cost much,
Charlie" "
He shook her hand from his arm, and
hurried out.
"Yes, yes, he replied, ,half.impatiently,
"Pll do it al if you don't keep me here
all night"
''And Charlie" she called, as he
str9de away, her voice full of touching
entreaty, "please don't stay long; baby
is so i'll, and will need her medicine in
an hour; and thought we would fix VI
bit when the children get to bed. You
will come back soon, dear2"
"Oh, yes, Mary, yes"
But Mary watched him out of sight,
with glimmer of tears in her patient
eyes. 81 wish could have gone myself, >
she sighed, as she returned to her baby's
cradle. Poor Charlie; | do hope he
will be as good as his word"
She sat down, with her foot on the
rocker, and took up her work basket.
There was never an idle moment for her
,,1( oh fHho hol Il
slept. its cheek hot and flushed, its
breath coming in quick, short gasps
Presently the children came in from the
pine ridge beyond the village where
they had been to gather wood for tht
fire.
"Wc'vc got lot, mother" said Tom
a study little fellow, the image of hi'
father. Well have rousing fire OF
Christmas, won't we, Annie2
Annie nodded and crept into the
corner holding her little red hands tt
the fire.
"Im not cold" said Tom. Girls be
so tender mother-let Annie stay in; III
feed the COW and get in the water-pn
in for Christmas work, am! Say, mother
shall we have ar Y goodies Tomorrow
His mother smiled.
''We must wait and see," she said
"there's 10 telling what Saata Claus
may do"
81 wish he'd bring me jack knife, o
a humming top. like Ned Raynor's,
said Tom, as he ran off to finish his work
Having warned her hands, Annie stol
softly to the baby's crib, and sat dow
beside it.
Mrs Rushton sewed on, and tn
stormy twilight closed in rapidly. Yer
soon it was quite dark, and every momen
the storm increased. She put by he
work, and made preparations for thel
frugal supper.
"You'l have to put one of your stick
on the fire, Tom, she said 'the room
is too cold for the ch Id thought th
coal would have been here before this. p"
'And baby ought to have had he
powder at FOUR said the thoughtfu
Annie; ''do YOU mind how fast sh
brealhes, molher9"
The mother bent over the little sui
feier, and pressed her lips to the hot
4 dry little mouth Then she went to th
door end looked long and wistfull
down the v llage road and such shar
/ iaiu AZ her moor heart She ha