The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1889-12-25
cnAPrEn u.


Spirits of,evil and good were abroad
that snowy Christmas eve-spirits offan-
cy and unrest, too.
One hour after Gurdon Aylmer had
dashed from The Cedars an embittered.
revengeful mortal, silent figure stole
from the front portals noiselessly, Grand
father Densgow.
Christmas eve," be lpiped +" Christ
mas eye-an oId-time ssorm-an old
time celebration. Ali how the days
sgone, when lived in the rugged cabin
on the cliff. poor but happy, come back
to me tonight. Who heeds the snow,
the stormr All this is royal. Only
halfa mile and The Christmas lights shall
glow ike fire-hies.'
Whatever the thoughts or purpose Of
the old man, they buoyed his enfeebled
frame to breast the storm with laugh
of sianch disdain. Whatever the delu-
sion his clouded mind entertained, it
made him chuekle, and glow, and thrill
as if he were back in his forties.
Where the road turned be uttered a
cry of dismay, Tor some one was coming
down the path, and ere the old wanderer
could dodge aside, he had reached him.
Well, | declare Grandfather Dens-
low !" calculated the stranger. And
abroad such night as this. have let
ter for you"
"For me?"
Yes, the postmaster gsye it to me,
and l thought Ia bring it."
Put it in my pOcket-outside coat
pocket-that's it, I'll open it by and by.
An hour later, exhausted, he reached
a dilapidated hut at the very summit Of
the cliff.
Home = he piped; the old home.
All what jolly Christmases when my
gun brought down the game and crowd
ed around the great, broad fireplace.
Heap it on heap it on I'll wake the
ghosts of the old days with fire and light
and cheer"
He ran in, he ran out Of the cabin. He
cast vast armfuls Of wood into the fire.
place. He undid his bundle tallow-
dips and pine-knots.
Then snap, flash, lucifer. and the
summit of White Cliff began to glow
and glisten, aureoled with rsd-lit win
dows and dancing, rollicking flames. as
they swept up the chimney.
An old mans fancy-a vagary that
/ thrilled dumb dispair with intoxication
of action.
Waiting fol Christmas" old Grand
father Denslow chirped, and chuckled
and spread out his thin, trembling hands
to the grateful heat
And the Christmas was coming, sure
advancing irresistible as the trail of des-
tiny that marked the snowy whiteness OF
the bleak cliff that weird December
night
"Helpr
Faint, despairing. the cry pierced the
darkness and gloom Vaguely diseerni-
Bile, fifteen feet below, one hand entan-
gled in a stout dead vine, the body limp,
helpless, she made out human 6gnre.
ait is he am coming lam coming r
she quayered, and the hardy mountain
girl was down the dangerous shelf, cling
ing to the vine.
How she ever dragged the now insen-
sible form to the cliff she knew not.
Gasping, fear-eyed. she looked down at
the huddled figure.
aNot Grandfather DenslowI" she pant
ed. "A stranger Who is be? He lives,
but"
She gazed despairingly back the long,
difficult path leading to The Cedars. She
could never hope to carry that burden
thither alone.
Should she hasten to the village and
summon help7 About to brush aside
the cape that obscured the face Of the
senseIess stranger, Claire uttered star
tied cry.
A glow of radiance blinded her.
Thrilled. marveling, she looked ahead.
The old hut, familiar landmark, was
one reo glow Of light.
@what does it mean p she breathed,
aghast NO one has lived there for
years, yet some one must be there now.
cannot see this stranger, whoever he is,
perish of the cold"
Bravely she lifted the limp form.
ssanchly she plodded onward-down the