Woodville Republican. (Woodville, Miss.) 185?-current, 1889-12-21

young centipedes; there was steamJ
smell of soap and of scorching linen and
of evergreen in the air; and old Nurse
Piggins added the last touch of comfort
by grooming a cozy, cheerful, canty
Christmas song through her nose.
And it was at the door of this room
that Miss Nellie stood with the white
bearded st. Nicholas, gazing in at the
homely scene with shining eyes; for the
little lonely woman thought she had
never looked on any thing more beauti.
full. And when they were discovered
lurking in the shadow, and when the
entire clan swooped down on them with
a cry of "Santa Claus and Mrs. Santa
Claus! Hooray!" and when the little
hands clung to her, and the confiding
little arms stole about her neck, and the
baby lips pressed her faded cheek, and
the lovely young eyes looked
fondly into hers, which were bright
now with something like the brightness
of tears, oh, then was the supreme mo
ment of Miss Nellies lifel
Even in the happy future, when the
little woman, no longer lonely old
maid sitting in the round-lidded win
dow of the boarding-house, looking dowr
at other peoples happiness, but little
wife with serene eyes, watching at that
window where the nursery fire winked
and flickered, hedged in with little
arms, and surrounded by constellation
of little heads, and beset with little
voices-even then this Christmas Eve
was never eclipsed or dimmed of its lus-
ter; but shone on along the path of her
peaceful life like the pure star that
shone in the East over the cradle of a
Child.
What! didn't tell you how they kept
Christmas Day at the clearinghouse?
How all the individuals got up on that
day of goodwill and opened their re-
spective doors gingerly to take in their
boots, and found that unwittingly they
had been following the good old German
custom and had exposed themselves to
the weakness of getting gift, each in
his boot, or, in the case of the ladies, to
having it tied to the handle of their hot
water pitchers: and how they suspected
an impecunious little woman in the
other bedroom; and how they came one
by one in their independent, individual
fashion to the Christmas dinner, and
were coaxed into smile by the twink
ling bits of holly-Christma holly-at
their plates; and surprised into laugh
at the magnificent proportions of the
Christmas turkey, and actually plunged
into unheard-of hilarity when the plum
pudding came on; and how by special
invitation they came shyly into the
parlor after the Christmas dinner was
over, and found it transformed into a
bower of spicy-scented greens, and
blushing in the light of monster Of a
"Yule log" blazing and sputtering
away on the hearth like a good fellow;
and how they suspected "a certain some
body again (but never suspected who
had helped her in her cheerful deeds);
and how there was a sprig of mistletoe
on the middle chandelier, which was
the cause of more mirth and
many tactics and military ma
neuvers on the part of the
Major, and much blushing-entirely ir-
respective of the fire-on the part of the
ladies; and how Miss Nellie sat at the
jangling old piano and played an old
fashioned jigging tune in an odd, old
fashioned way, while "all hands" took
partners for the Virginia reel-the iras-
chile editor leading off genteelly with
the old lady in the false front, and the
INDECENT young clerk prancing after
with the pretty type-writer-girl, and the
couple siding amicably
hand in hand down the middle and back
again, and the Major bringing up styl-
ishly with the bouncing landlady and
putting in more pigeon wings and fancy
hourishes to the square inch than any
mortal who ever stepped out to the tune
of "Pop Goes the Weasell" What! did
not tell you all this?
Well-a-dayl the Christmas fire is burn
ing low, and the lights are out in the
great double-house, and the sounds of
merriment are hushed, and the day
that dear day of peace on earth, good
will toward men"-is over, dead and
buried with the dead past; but wot
there was blaze kindled that night
5hatll not burn out so soon, and lights
5hatll brighten the way for many long
lay, and sounds of merriment that'll 90
8choing on through years to come--car-
,ying onward the refrain of old Nurse
Piggins' song:
Without the door let Sorrow lie,
And IT, for cold, 1t hap TO die,
Well bury't in q Christmas pie,
And evermore be merry
w. L. Falconer, in Demorest.