The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1889-01-24

purchaser TO buy Just one more pres
ent for some dear one, even though
their purses urged strongly to the
contrary, were one blaze of light,
throwing their glare far out into the
street and making the snow glisten
and sparkle like brilliant gems.
Not only the stores, but the resi-
dences seemed vieing with everything
else to make good cheer and properly
celebrate the birth of our dear
Saviour.
But why, on this night Ofall others,
couldn't it be thus bright and happy
all over the city? Why can some be
so happy while others are so misera
BILE? Why couldn't the rich, of their
abundance, give at least sufficient to
keep their far less fortunate neigh
bors comfortable?
The proof of the want of this gen
erOsity on the part of someone was
in the remote part of the city. In
rickety, almost topping garnet, only
reached after cropping up Il pair Of
miserable, rat-infested stairs that
seemed to have stood the wear of al
most a century, a most pitiful sight
might have met the eye.
On bed, scarce worthy the name,
composed Ofstraw, with hardlya COW
ering, lay the poor, emaciated body
of woman. The fevered cheek, the
false brightness of theeye the hollow
sound of the voice, all betOkened that
dread disease, consumption.
Reaching out her hand and laying
it on the glossy curls of the child
kneeling at her side, she murmured
feebly, "My darling Lottie, what will
become of you when | am gone? The
cold, cruel winter is already on us. l
cannot last much longer. No kind
friend in whose care to leave you; no
one to give you helping hand, and
the poor woman broke down in sobs
that seemed to speak of the heart
breaking within her.
"Never mind me, mamma" camein
a sweet, clear, musical voice, whose
bravery was surprising in one so
young.
"NOw try to go to sleep and | will
goand sing that song you taught me,
and | shall get enough to have some
thing nice for to-morrOw-it will be
Christmas, you know
So covering her up as warmly as
possible with the few ragged blankets,
and kissing her in a tender, bright,
childish fashion, she bade her 90 to
sleep and she would be back soon.
For almost year this little child
of scarcely ten had, by the little she
could earn selling matches and sing
ing, been the solesupport ofthis poor,
dying mother, reduced to penury by
the heartlessness of a drunken hus-
band.
Her little daughters mention of
Christmas had awakened tender
memories in Mrs. Bertram's breast.
She lived over again all the pleasant
scenes of her girlhOOd's home, where
every want had been supplied, where
every wish, scarce expressed, had
been gratified. She soon fell into a
peaceful slumber, a smile on her face
She was once more the loved daugh-
ter of a doting father, the idol of her
mothers heart. She had forgotten
all the cruel world.
Meanwhile little Lottie had gone up
one street and down another, sing
ing her little Christmas carol, but the
passers-by either we're mechanically
inclined, or did not have time; per-
haps they had forgotten the story,
taught them in childhood, ofthe good
Samaritan, probably they thought
only of the day as a holiday, and did
not remember the significance of
"For unto us a child is born, unto us
ason is given" and their hearts were
not softened.
The little one was almost heart
broken. Not q cent yet and her poor
mother dying for want of food. For
herself she did notcare And she had
been goneso long. Despair was writ
ten in every lineament of her face.
Bravely forcing back the rising
tears, she glanced up at one of the
L