Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 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 pulyerlzed
diamonds, and the air always still ana
cold and clear, but a stormy twilight,
with the SHOW 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 Hoopor's cheeks
were as red as the bltter-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 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 sqafnt&s
mutf, beheld in her minds eyes great
fires of logs roaring up wide-thrOated
chimneys, walls festooned with hem
lock boughs and black green tufts d
mistetoe; and she had half composed
a poem on Christmas and its cherished
associations when the ruthless conduct
tor came along for her ticket.
"How far are we from Montcour
station?' she inquired, as she gave I'd
the bit of pasteboard. Nj
Next but one, Miss" said the man
as he hurried on, with his lanter1
under his arm. Half an hour yet
She had never been so far from
New York in all her life before. Th4
driving rain in which she had left hen
home had changed as they progressed
northward into the steady fall OF snow
which 1uttered around them like n
white waving shroud. But Bertha
Hooper cared little for this. Had nog
Aunt Almira promised to send Zebe1
dee, her youngest son, to the station
with the pony to meet her on thq
arrival Of the six forty train tfonT
New York? And was not Zebede9
to have lantern with red glass
door to it, so she could identify him az
once?
She was very pretty as she sat Il
little black velvet toque, with its curl
ing plume of cardinal red and thf
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 lonS1
lasned, clear, rosy bloom on eithe1
cheek, and wavy dark hair hangln9
in silken fringe over her broad, low
forehead.
"Mont - Court = station - bawed
the breakman, putting in snow
powdered fur cap, and withdrawIngi
again as quickly as if he had been \
magnifed edition of the Jack-in-thet
box, which children much rejoice at n
holiday time. And Bertha Hoopef
knew that she had reached her deslnf
alton.
Stiff and cramped from the lengVn
Of time in which she had been sitting
IN one position, she rose up, with
little steel-clasped traveling-bag IN ons
hand and dainty silk umbrella IN my
other, and made her way to the door
All she could see when she steppea
out upon the wet and slippery pia'T
form was blur of driving snow
which the lights of the sol
-ary little country depot CLEANED Il
fully; but the next instant something
dashed athwart her vision Ike
friendly red eye-and beneath the II
1ector over the station door she saw
all ine-looking young man, in a luf
trimmed overcoat, a seal-skin cap s
auntily on one side of a crop OF chesT
tut curls, and a red-hghted lan'el
winging from his left hand, as
tood straining his eyes in the storm
darkness. as if to catch sight OF sow
'amiliar face in the little crowd.
"Cousin Zebedee l" cried Ber'h%
loud, and she made one spring ~
he arms of this blonde-whlskeF7
'Uung giant. For had not she app