Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1886-05-11
THE SHORTEST DAY.
And Yet How Much It Held for
One Poor Woman

HOW long is that oil most people,
wonderP Some perhaps can number
the full six hundred and thirteen thou
sand six hundred and eight hours OF
the allotted threescore years and ten,
while others outlast the pre.Adamic
day Of the geologist, and cover all
eternity. But mine was just the ordinary
daylight one, the shortest in the year,
too, for it was the twsnty-irst Of De-
cember. r q
And oven short as 1t was, / had al
ready wasted some hours Of it. Had l
thought it would have set so soon l
might have been up at its dawning,
though usually / hold, with Lever, that
the sun looks best-as every one else
does-when he's up and dressed for the
day, and that it's piece Of impertlnent
curiosity to peep at him when he's ris-
ing and at his toilet; he has not rubbed
the clouds out of his eyes, or you dared
not look at him. But when ones sun
shines such little while as mine, might
not one be pardoned for rushing to the
levee at an questionable hourp
Yet it was noon before l was out in
the bright glow, trudging down the
lane with yesterdays fall Of snow crisp
ing under my feet, and last nights
sleet clashing overhead, as the wind
caught at the struggling, overgrown
hedge-row boughs, and sent them ring
ing together. with such an icy-jcwoled
flash and splendor Of green and gold
and red and blue as summer, with all
her wealth OF leaves and blossoms,
could not rival. The very splendor
promised the glittering moekery but o
short life; the sun is q traitor with his
kisses, and the warmth Of them would
soon wither away the snow wreaths,
making their delicate minicry Of the
white May and the hawthorn In the
hedge. But meantime they were very
fair, and the snow lay light and white
under the great peach orchards that
had their ICY sparkle too, as they swept
away, in gentle undulations, right and
left Of the still lane. And the blue sky
had the merest snowflake of cloud
drifting along, and the sun was shining
full upOnlme, and somehow CLINT OF
it had got into my heart, though there
was nothing in particular to bring 1t
there. Christmas was so near, the first
I had spent out Of my old home, so
empty now;. and Father Christmas,
when he comes to us with, q changed
face, has the saddest Of alllooks. Yet
did not intend to NOPE. Aunt Mar
garet and the girls we're friendly and
Kind, and the least ] could do would be
to put aside the shadow Of my Grape,
and show them contented face. And
| So
Perhaps something more than content
flashed into it just then, when that
thought of mine was broken short of
by sharper clatter Of those hedge-row
boughs, and some one sprang down
through the gap, bringing with him q
little clatter Of falling icicles into the
road before ME. For, as we shook hands,
there was a pleased look in his eyes,
and he said, with some abruptness:
"Y0u are a little glad to see mel
You won't mind my finishing your walk
with your Z fE,[f(lyF !
/ tried 10 answer carelessly, though
It was not so easy, under that gaze o.
his: "Oh, If you are Of geological turn
this morning, l am going in search o.
foxtail and crow-foot. / marked 3
quite splendid bed down by the brool
In the woods in II sheltered spot wher,
Idare say this lightsnow has not covered
it. The girls tell me they are not in the
habit Of putting Christmas evergreenl
about the house, but l always did It a
home, and" W AFit 0ttI
| He understood me at once. He said
with his rare gentleness: "And you ar
trying hard to keep SOME of the ole
Christmas feeling about you. Yol
must forgive me II I cannot help seeing
4 something Of your brave struggle, ant
| yearning to help you in It,"
II Yearning! It was strong word
but his eyes made 1t stronger, as / coul,
! not help glancing up TO see. And be