Milford chronicle., 1885-12-11
THE RED LIGHT.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.


Not one of the ideal Christmas Ewes
of poets and romance writers, wherein
the moon is always at the full, the
snow always a-sparkle like pulYerized
diamonds, and the air always still and
cold and clear, but a stormy twilight
with the snow driving steadily from
the east, the wind raw and biting, and
the sky-what you could see of it
black as ink.
But it was Christmas Eve, all the
same, and Bertha Hoopar's cheeks
were as red as the bitter-sweet berries
in the woods as 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 countryl 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 a gray squirrel
muff, beheld in 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-
tor came along for her ticket.
Glow far are we from MOntcourt
station p she inquired, as she gave up
the bit of pastebOard.
"Next but one, Miss" said the man,
as he hurried on, with his lantern
under his arm. "Half 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 1uttered around them like
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 a lantern with a red glass
door to it, so she could identify him at |
once?
She was very pretty as she sat in
little black velvet toque, with its curl
ing plume of cardinal rod and the
ribbon bow at her throat
pretty with the bloom and freshness
IF eighteen. She was dark, with large
lazel eyes, almond-shaped and long
ashed, clear, rosy bloom on either
,heek, and wavy dark hair hanging
n silken fringe over her broad, low
'orehead.
"Mont - Court - station !" bawled
he breakman, putting in a snow
powdered fur cap, and Withdrawing it
gain as quickly as if he had been
edition of the Jack-in-th
,ox, which children much rejoice at in
Holiday time. And Bertha Hooper
lnew that she had reached her destin-
.tion.
Stiff and cramped from the length
f time in which she had been sitting
n one position, she rose up, with
title steel-clasped travelling bag in one
Iand and a dainty silk umbrella in the
ther, and made her way to the door.
All she could see when she stepped
ut upon the wet and slippery plat
orm was a blur of driving snow,
trough which the lights Of the soli-
airy little country depot cleaned lit-
ully; but the next instant something
ashed athwart her vision like a
riendly red eye-and beneath the re-
eclor over the station door she saw a
al ine-loolling young man, in fur
trimmed Overcoat, a seal-skin cap set
luntily on one side of crop of chest
ut curls, and a red-lighted lantern
winging from his left hand, as he
.ood straining his eyes in the stormy
arkness. as if to catch sight Of some
lmiliar face in the little crowd.
"Cousin Zebedee r cried Bertha,
loud, and she made one spring into
ie arms of this blonde whiskered
Dung giant. For had not she and
abodoa ,,fovad douafnone and fox and +