The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1885-12-11
DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT.
A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE.

"Now, Charlie dear, do make 1t 60 as
far as you can, " said little Mrs Rushton,
as she counted a roll Of or 50. green bills
into her husbands hand as they 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-stitchcs made in'tbe 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
"Therc are 50 Tany things we need,
she said. ''lf could have gone myself;
but baby is too Ill for that" glancinr
backward at the crib in one corner. so,
Charlie, do the best you can. There's
the medicine for the habv-don't, pray,
forget that-and some coal. and a uttic
sugar and tea, and few loaves Of bread.
And | did want turkey Tor tomorrow
IA small one, yoL know, Charlie; and a
few plums to make a pudding. We can't
afford it we'll; but it seems so hard for
you and the children to have nothing for
Christmas.
Charlie moved restlcssly, but her thin,
labor worn hand held his arm.
"And some little triiles for the chill
dren, dear, " she went on; "the poor lit
tie things will be hanging up their stock
ings to ght, and it hurts me 50 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
hurr ed out.
"Yes, yes, " he replied, half impatiently,
IN do it al if you don't keep me here
all niSht.'
"And Charlie" she called, as he
STRIDE away, her voice full Of touching
entreaty, "pcasc don't stay long; taby
is so i'll, and will need her medicine in
an hour; and thought we would fix up
bit when The children get to bed. You
viii come back soon, dearl"
"Oh, YES, Mary, yes.'
But Mary watched him out OF sight,
with glimmer of tears in her patient
eyes. 81 wish could have gone my self, "
she sighed, as she returned TO her baby's
cradle. Poor Charlie; 1 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,
not even on Christmas eve. The babe
slept, its check hot and nushcl, it;
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 thl
fire.
"Wc've got lot, mother" sad Tom
study little fellow, the image of his
father. Wen have rouslng fire Of
Christmas, won't wc, Annie:
Annie nodded and crept into III,
corner holding her little rel hands t.
the fire.
I'm not cold, said Tom. Girls be
so tender mothcr-let Annie STAY in; III
feed the COW and get in the watcr-I'n
in for Christmas work, ! am. Say.mother
shall We have al Y goodies morrow
Hi mother smiled.
eve must wait and see she said
'there's no telling what Saata Clau
may do
81 wish he'd bring me a jack knife, o
a humming top. like Ned aynor's,
said Tom, as he ran of to Fl sh his work
Having warmed 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 momcl
the storm increased. she put by he
work, and made preparations for thcl
frugal supper.
"Youll have to put one of your sticl,
on the fire. Tom, - she said; 1.-THE ROOF
is too cold for the oh Id. thought II
coal would have been here before his 81
"And baby ought to have had 1T
powder at four" said the thoughtfr
Annie; "do You mind how fast 81
breathes, mother2'
The mother bent over the little su
ferer, and pressed her lips to the no
dry little mouth. Then She went to tt
door and looked long and wistful
down the village road, and such Il shal
pain at her poor heart, She h
worked so hard, and hoped so much f