Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1892-12-21

own, and | don't think even father will be
hard to her. When want her will come for
her, but it may be long years first, If ever.
lead an honest but a wild life, and Texan
ranch or Rio Grande camp is not the place
for her. For my childs sake part from her.
Be good to her. mother. Your loving son,
WILLIAM +. MARSHALL
A moment later an old man was
struggling through the snowdrifts to-
ward the village as fast as his rheumatic
legs could carry him. Too latel He
only heard the echo of the coachman's
horn as the horses tore down the turn
pike to New York.
Baby Marshall was in her grandmoth-
er's lap and smiling brightly in her face.
Katrine piled the table with hot grid
die cakes, fragrant tea, sweet butter and
golden honey.
Farther and farther the stage carried
the wanderer from the old home.
i
Christmas bells ringing over the land!
Christmas sunshine glinting the far
reaching carpet of snow, and picturesque
tree boughs hung with icy diamonds.
In the churches music and song swelling
ont on the clear, frosty air.
Unto us son is born,
Unto US king is given.
Christ, the Lord
Old Mrs. Marshall always walked to
church Christmas morning, and as she
listened to the sweet tide of song her
head bent lowly down and prayer
welled up from the poor old mothers
soul: Lord, | have waited so long.
Let me see my boys face again before
die!'
In that moment the church clock
ehimed 12 meridian.
In that moment, as she recalled after
ward, peace spread its white wings
above her, and an angel voice seemed to
whisper, "All is we'll" When she re-
turned the family had assem- bled for the
Christmas dinner.
There was Rube, who had good
farm in the highlands-Rube, the steady
going "a broad shouldered, sturdy
Saxon, With his pretty, dark eyed wife.
dressed IN new black sill with real
lace coli II and cuffs; Marianne, the belle
of the f. mily, and the youngest, a lass of
eighteen, blond, 2ebonair aud roguish,
with her good looking fiance lowering
beside her. the son of well to do farmer
in the vicinity, whose daughter Marianne
had just been visiting for Il few days.
There, too, was Alfred, the doctor,
portly, well meaning man, and little
of a dandy in his dress, as became
physician and bachelor popular among
the invalid ladies of Westchester.
L.
meeting house, where minister and daa-
con had been holding a private sessiyn
of two hours over the backsliding of
some poor soul predoomed according to
their belief to damnation. There was
general handshaking of father and kiss
ing Of mother. The deacon did not be-
lieve in kissing Or indulging in the
profane luxury of smile on the Sab
bath day, but Christmas, even accord
ing to his creed, was made for rejoicing.
Among all the family that day a
queen had been enthroned--the waif
who had arrived the night before. A
big box had come for her by Sam Dolan,
the carrier, and its contents showed that
the wild Texan rover had hot spared
expense on his little daughter GAY in
blue silk and lace and ribbons The little
thing tossed her curls and hc...led de-
ightedly, first on one, then on another.
conscious of being the objec, Of every
bodys admiration.
At last she cuddled up i'll h.r grand
mothers arms and fell softly asleep
Poor grandma! She felt repaid for those
years of waiting and WEAKNESS as she
Graded the little ones head On hel
breast and brushed her pale face against
the fluffy, silken hair. Just as every
body grew keenly hungry Kat1ine rang
forth welcome peal from the dinner
bell.
After the deacon grace what chorus
Of praises went up! Was there ever such
adelicious, fat, brown turkey as mothers?
Whoever made such clear jelly? And
the tiny pig-roasted whole-with the
apple in its mouth! And the 1lince pies,
and whole pitchers of russet cider, ice
cold!
The perfumes of Araby the blest arose
from the banquet.
But every feast must have its end.
The day lowered as evening came on;
gusty clouds chased each other across
the sky, and Rube, full to repletion,
pushed back his chair and said he must
be "gettin up his team pretty soon, as
he'd promised his wife they'd stay at
her mothers, seven miles farther up, for
the night" Just at this moment Ka-
trine, who had gone to the well for a
pitcher of fresh water, looked in at the
door and beckoned mysteriously to old
Mrs. Marshall, which caused her to
make excuse, and leaving the room to
seek the spot to which the girl pointed.
In the cleaning, beside the old ''moss
covered bucket that hung in the WELL"
stood tall, stalwart man, who, as his
mother advanced, trembling and uncer-
tain, held out his arms.
Mother! oh, mother!" he said with a
hoarse sob in his voice.
With such a cry as only a mother
could understand, the poor, fragile crea-
ture threw herself upon the broad, sturdy
bosom of the man before her-her lost
child Of so many years. What prayers,
what silent tears, what longings of heart
had drained his mothers life of strength
for his sake!
Mother, told you | had lived an
honest life
Willie, do you think | did not feel
that to be so?"
well, mean to say that l am
ashamed to face no one; but when l
went away that day ! expected never to