The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1892-01-03

sat in the stuffy greenroom of the little
theatre IN Ipswich. Around me were
gathered quite merry company of play
ers, who were relating experiences and an
ecdotes of Christmas. 1t was shortly after
had made my debut among theatrical peo-
pie, and listened and was impressed by
the humor and romance of their stories.
There was one story that impressed me
more than any of the others, and the re-
currence of Christmas brings it fresh to my
memory. 1t was told by the leader of the
orchestra, a pale-faced man of some sixty
years or more. l will tell it as it was told
TO me, but l fear it will lack the color given
1t by the original
''ln the little town of Ebsdorf in the
northern part of Germany there lived once
upon time merry fellow who was
blessed with good wife and one child,
little girl. The child was poor little mite,
with pretty face, but deformed by
bunch on her back. To all eyes but her
mothers this bunch was noticeable and
commented upon, but the mother never
saw anything but the sweetness of her
face and the sunshine of her disposition.
The father was given much to the society
OF his fellow men. and the mother and child
were LETT to enjoy each others company.
Ii self-denial could procure for her darling
one drop of pleasure or comfort the loving
mother never hesitated, and where one
went, there went the other also. When
Christmas came there was always some
thing pretty given to the little one, and the
village peddlers grew to love the child and
occasionally would sell their toys below
cost in order that the mother could procure
them for her loved one.
sit was nearing the time for the holidays,
and the poor mother was working her
finger nails TO the very quick to get some
money TO buy presents. The father spent
his time and his money with his gay COM
panions, and gave no thought to those at
home. The merry days arrived and the
child was made happy by several pretty
gifts, but the struggle had been too much
for the mother. and before the New Year
she sickened and died. When all was over
and all that had been mortal of the mother
had been placed beneath the sod, the little
one was deserted by all except her toys the
presents of her mothers life.
1.-The father was not long in seeking an
other companion, and Easter found new
wife installed in the house-a hard fea-
tured woman, who had been married be-
fore, and who had three rough, healthy
children, who took possession of every
thlng-eyen to the playthings of the unfor-
tunate one. They jeered at her, and made
fun oS the hunch on her back. She was
neglected and abused-as stepchiIdren gen
orally are. During the summer she devel-
oped cough, and her little frame COM
menced to waste and fade away. Before
the next Christmas arrived the child was
sick unto death, and never left her little
cot in the dark corner of the cold attic
Her mothers face was ever before her, and
her childish dreams pictured over and over
again the many happy days she had passed
with her mother.
"The rough step-sisters and brother told
her that Christmas would soon come, and
that she would not be visited by Santa
Claus. She did not murmur, but prayed to
her good mother in heaven to remember
her. On Christmas morn, when all below
stairs were merry, the heart of the neglect
full father turned to the sick one above, and
he went to her bedside. The poor little
face was lighted up with heavenly smile,
and she raised her tired head and asked her
father for kiss.
Pm so happy to-day, papa she said.
Mamma came to me last night, in my
dreams, and told me that she would take
me from this place and put me on a bed of
white roses. l asked her why every one
laughed at me, and what was in the bunch
on my back. She told me not to mind what
was said, and that my bunch contained a
pair of angel wings which would bear me
to her.
Then the little one fell back on her
rough cot and closed her tired eyes Just
as the evening bells in distant church an
nounced the close of the day her little soul
passed up to lie on the bed Of roses. 1t was
the Christmas gift she had hoped for and
God had not forgotten her"
There was not dry eye in the room
when the story vas finished, and the head
of the teller was buried in MS hands. His
task had been hard one, for he was the
| father.