The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1892-12-23


would have rung the chestnut bell, "
for he had heard sermons from his wife
on his sorely repented sin full many q
time and Oft
The best Of women will preach.
II have such a strange feeling about
me this minute. feel as if my boy was
right here by me-" she went on, forget
ting that her "boy" was now man OF
thirty-fve or more
AT this instant three startling raps on
the knocker sounded through the old
house.
"It's that good for nothin Jake Mollen
waiting till this time O. night to fetch
them groceries. Don't leave the slap
jacks, Katrine; I'll open the door.
And the deacon took up n candle and
stalkcd through the passage to the front
door. He opened it, What a strange
sight to see
Against the dark background Of night
and storm the figure of cherub child,
q wee maid Of five years, fair as pearl,
with bright eager eyes of heavenly blue,
and a soft fleecy mass of pale gold es-
Gaping from her blue satin hood and
falling over her white fur coat.
She advanced fearlessly and piped out:
"Tm Baby Marshall, and papa's
bought me TO danma, My mammals
dead Ion time ago, and las summer my
brack nanny, Oosy die, too, and baby
want see danma."
Another moment and the grand
mother, with the thrilling cry of u
woman's soul to IN answered prayer
lifted her grandchild to her heart.
Oh, the dear contact Was it real
the firm, warm, little hand she clasped,
the pressure Of the smiling rosy lipsI
"Where is papa? Oh, my dear, where
is papa?" she cried, while the deacon
looked on as one raised from the dead,
and Katrine gazed on the new found
treasure and thought Of the stories she
had read in Dutch folklore of the angel
Of the Christnastide.
Papa don" cooed the little one. "He
tum for baby after while. Take dis, ;"
and searching the recesses of her little
pockets she produced letter.
The grandfather with shaking hands
and faltering tones read:
MoTHBR, DEAR MoTugR-I have brought
you my motherlcss aad only child. / know
that you will love and care for her rs your
own, and | don't think even father will be
hard to her. When want her will come for
her, but 1t may be long years first, ii ever. |
lead An honest but II wild life, and u Tayan
ranch or n 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 T.. 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 late! 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 grand,roth-
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.
Christmas bells ringing over the land.
Christmas sunshine glinting The lar
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 n son is born,
Unto us q king Is given,
Christ, the Lord!
Old Mrs. Marshall always walked 20
church Christmas morning, and as she
listened to the sweet tide Of song her
head bent lowly down and Il prayer
welled up from the poor old mothers
soul: Lord, | have waited so long.
Let me see my boys face again before |
diet"
In that moment the church clock
chimed 12 meridian.
In that moment, as she recalled after
ward, peace spread its white WINS
above her, and an angel voice seemed 10
whisper, "All is we'll" When she re-
turned the family had assembled for the
Christmas dinner.
There was Rube, who had Cood
farm in the ighlands-Rube, the steady
going "a broad shouldered, sturdy
Saxon, with his pretty, dark eyed V;.G'.
dressed in "a new black silk with a real
AesSO VA ~ Sul.o, bilt Dcllt
of the family. and the youngest, a lass of
eighteen, blond, debonair and roguish,
with her good looking fance lowering
beside her, the son of we'll to do farmer
in the vicinity, whose daughter Marianne
had just been visiting for few days.
There, too, was Alfred, the doctor, u
portly, we'll meaning man, and little
of dandy in his dress, as became a
physician and bachelor popular among
the invalid ladies Of Westchester
The deacon trudged in from his own
meeting house, where minister and daa-
con had been holding "a private session
of two hours over the backsliding Cf
some poor soul predoomed according 20
their belief TO damnation. There was a
general handshaIipG Of father and kiss
ing Of mother. the deacon did not be-
lieve in kissing or indui.,ing ia the
profane luxury Of n smile on the Sab-
bath day, but Christmas, even accord
ing to his creed, WAS made for rejuiciuH
Among all the family that day Il