Middletown transcript., 1894-12-29

A unpicturesqu
FaI heap of brick an
mortar known as the town Cour
House. A squad of newsboys an
gamins had just disappeared in tn
direction of the new hctel at the othe
end of the block. Their arms wer
full of fireworks" and their heart
full of the "good-will," not of tn
season, but of boyhood. They wen
out shouting to the silent man behint
the glass door. He remembered tina
they had shouted; he did not know
that they had wished him ''merry
Christmas" and ''long life," and &
''bully New Year." although the good
wishes had not been lacking the EN-.
phasis boyhood alone understands TIT
ant of giving. Yet, he had smiled in
response to their greeting; and he had
a vague idea of being glad the little
vagabonds were happy at Christmas
anyhow. He had paid visit earlier
in the evening to that part of the town
where the church people were holding
Christmas service.
The church was not new, as was
most of the town; it had come in
ahead of the boom that had turned the
place upside down, so to speak, and
had built manufactures, put in water
works, a foundry for pig-iron, coke
ovens on the outskirts, and had built
tie big stone club house, the new
Metropolitan Hotel, and last but by no
reasoning least, the railroad, with a
branch line running out to the coal
mines.
Then it laid off the town anew,
wound it up and set it going, like
clock on an eight days. run. Only in
this case the go was genuine; the
Southern nature had something more
than gas in its boom; the coal banks
proved both abundant and rich; the
steady, safe GO, that would neither
throw its hackers nor burst from its
OWL over-intlation. The experiment
was a success;t he tide turned its way;
new railroads came, new industries
And he, the tall young cynic watching
the Christmas brightness from the
glass door of toy shop, had caugh'
he tide and sailed in to success, too.
1t had come too late, he declared too
late. Like the little old church buried |
under a burden of snow and memories, |
he had got in ahead of the boom.
There were those who would have
liked to remove all of these; but they |
were mostly the Christian folk who
wanted handsomer church on the old
site; and the Court Square, where the
cnuntrymen stalled their teams o.
Saturdays and court days, the church
folk wanted for woman's exchange
building. There was an empty corner
around on Eighth Street where the
Court House would be out of the way.
AS for the young cynic-well, there
were others than the church folk who
would have word to say when it
came to asking Paul Wardlow to
s'move on" Some such thought was
in his mind as he looked over toward
the clubhouse. Nobody had opposed
The clubhouse; but then it represented
more than a million dollars of the new
towns capital, so the good people said
nothing about asking it to "move on"
"But lne-oh, they'd like to put me
,ut," mused Wardlow. II am spot
upon their feast.' She would like me
10 go, too. l think l am kind of
meme, meme tekep on the walls of her
content. 1 stopped under the caves of
he old church an hour ago, to hear
hem sing-sing of peace and good
will. Another beggar, one without
money, stood before the door, looking
n whenever it opened TO admit some
ur-wra pped worshiper. | saw an
Usher come to the door and drive him
,ff with a threat of the calaboose
lnless he moved on. The calabOose.
IN Christmas night, and while the
church people sang Of peace and good
Ulllp'
His lips curled; he had forgotten !
hat he had slipped dollar into the a
,eggar's hand with the injunction to
go home out Of the cold" Out of i
he cold; that was his advice always; I
le knew what it was to be ''left out in t
he cold"
He had only tarried moment longer
lnder the low-drooping caves; until q
ONE one put up one of the old
ashioned stained windows, when the 6
erfume and flowers became burden.
through it he had caught glimpse of
coil of bright hair heaped upon a s
Irish head that was bowed in prayer. b
He went away then, first for walk. 0
nd later the gamin had enticed him 0
ITO the toy shop. But the bright head
ad stirred him up, all his old half
uried bitterness awakened. The n
ymn they sang was in his ears. the h
Irish head before his eyes, torturing b
i'm. She was in the same old pew r
is fathers pew was the next one in n
hose days. A wealthy stock broker 9
ad it now. But she still sat the cor :
er where she sat then watching him
18th her sweet violet eyes, while her 8
title hands were clasped with saint "
Ike devotion upon a tiny velvet prayer h
ook. She was still praying; the bright u
cad scarcely reached the top of the 9
3w rail those days. He remembered
le first morning that he noticed she Il
,uld see over it, into his pew; he had '
iven her bunch of white hyacinths b
rat morning, and she had said, over q
IL