Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1885-12-23
THE RED LIGHT.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.

n OF one OF lne IDEAL CnrlSllllaS LIVES
of poets and romance writers, wherein
the moon is always at the full, the
snow always a-sparkle like pulverized
diamonds, and the air always still and
cold and clear, but stormy twilight,
with the snow driving steadily from
the east, the wind raw and biting, and
the sky-what you could see of it
Hack as ink.
But it was Christmas Eve, all the
same, and Bertha Hooper's cheeks
were as red as the bitter-sweet berries
in the woods rs she sat, all wrapped
up, in the train that was steaming
northward, on her way to spend
Christmas with her Aunt Almira
Higgins.
Christmas in the country! TO Ber-
tha, who had lived all her life in the
brick walls and stone pavements of a
city, the very words seemed to convey
somewhat of cheer and joyousness.
And Bertha, as she sat with her eyes
closed and her little gloved hands
safely nestled into gray squirrel
muff. bcheld'iQ her minds eyes great
fires of logs roaring up wide-throated
chimneys, walls festooned with hem
lock boughs,and black green tufts of
mistletoe; and she had half composed
poem on Christmas and its cherished
associations when the ruthless conduc-
ior came along for her ticket.
GLOW far are we from Montcourt
station?' she inquired, as she gave up
he bit of pasteDoard.
Next but one, Miss" said the man,
as he hurried on, with his lantern
lnder'his arm. "fIalf an hour yet"
She had never been so far from
New York in all her life before. The
driving rain in which she had left her
home had changed as they progressed
northward into the steady fall of snow,
which fluttered around them like a
white waving shroud. But Bertha
Hooper cared little for this. Had not
Aunt Almira promised to send Zebe-
dee, her youngest son, to the station
with the pony to meet her on the
arrival of the six.forty, train from
New York? And was not Zebedee
to have n lantern with a red glass
door to it, so she could didentify him at
once?
She was very pretty, as she sat in
little black velvet toque, with its curl
ing plume. Of cardinal red and the
wine-red ribbon bow at her throat
pretty with the bloom and freshness
of eighteen. She was dark, with large
hazel eyes. 'almond-shaped and long
lashed, a clear, rosy bloom on either
cheek, and wavy dark hair hanging
in silken fringe over her broad, low
forehead.
"Mont Court - station T. bawled
the breakman, putting in Il snow
powdered fur cap, and withdrawing it
again as quickly as if he had been
magniGed edition Of the Jack-in-the-
box, which children much rejoice at in
holiday time. And Bertha Hooper
knew that she had reached her destin-
alton.
Stiff and cramped from the length
of time in which she had been sitting
in one position, she rose up, with a
little el-clasped traveling-bag in one
hand and a dainty silk umbrella in the
other, and made her way to the door,
All she'could see when she stepped
out upon the wet and slippery plat
form was blur of driving snow,
through which the lights Of the soil
tary little country depot cleaned lit-
fully; but the next instant something
flashed athwart her vision like u
friendly red eye-and beneath the re-
Aector over the station door she saw a
tall fine-looking young man, in a fur
trimmed overcoat, u seal-skin cap set
iauntily on one side of crop of chest
nut curls, and a red-lighted lantern
swinging from his left hand, as he
stood straining his eyes in the stormy
darkness, as If to catch sight Of some
familiar face in the little crowd.
"Cousin Zebedee T. cried Bertha,
aloud, and she made one spring into
the arms of this blonde whiskered
young giant For had not she and
Zebedee played dominoes and ox.and'