Semi-weekly interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1881-1905, 1895-12-20


tell that from the houses-big, broad,
roomy, old fashioned brick residences
of bygone day, with quaint colonial
doorways, deliberately carved, the lin,els
in many cases supported by the classic
Ionic or Doric columns effected 10y the
builders Of century ago.
But their glory had departed. The
spirit of decay had fallen upon them,
and the children of those who built
them had moved tn finer and more
modern homes.
But the JenninCSeS and the Kents
were an exception. They had withstood
the general exodus and continued to
live in the house which had been their
family rooftree for nigh hundred
years. They were plain, quiet, conServ-
alive people, and not Of the smart"
sort, like the gay, fashionable families
who had all moved away.
Here's Uncle Dickr' shouted the
boys rs they grabbed his big travelling
bag almost before the hackman had
time TO carry it into the hallway.
Hugs and kisses We're exchanged all
around, and his sister wept few sweet
memorial tears. He had grown so like
his father, she thought. All, il mother
could see him now-that mother whose
patient, loving face was pictured ON
canvas in the quaint old fashioned
frame hanging on the parlor wall.
His nephew, Alex, a handsome lad,
led him up TO the same room i'll the old
fashioned house which he had occupied
when a boy, furnished with the same
high backed rush seated chairs, and the
low bed, with tall. carved corner posts
the old prints and knickknaCks and
books. And over the fireplace was a pho
tograph of Eleanor Kent
He threw himself into a chair, over
come with emotion at the many memo
ries Of his younger days that arose be.
fore him like ghosts from the past.
In the afternoon he went ont with his
two eldest nephewS, Alex and Sam, Co
see the shop windows, and when they
returned all three had their arms filled
with presents He was very happy. If
some of those married fellows in st.
Louis could see him nowl The sense
Of loneliness which had haunted him
for years was gone, and yot-in "A
week he would be back again in that !
quiet house Of his in ~. Louis, with |
no other occupant save the faithful |
Sarah Burns
II was Christmas eve All the lights |
were burning BRIGHTLY in the McCray I.
Uncle Dick and the children .
he had never realized before what
good companions children were-had
been busy all afternoon decorating the
huge Christmas tree. Against evening
c was glorious sight 10 behold. The |
children had never been so happy. All
If them had gotten an unusually large
number of presents. Uncle Dick alone
iad bought three and four each, even
he baby. In the big sitting room the
PRESENTS were displayed on an old ma
logany table that reminded you Of some
Wild beast Of the forest when you gazod
lown at the formidable looking claws
which served for its feet. But the table
Ould not contain them all, 80 several
hairs were placed on either side of it to
Iold the overflow exhibition.
As the evening waned Uncle Dick and
Papa McCray lit their cigars and went
ut for a walk. They had been gone but
few minutes when there was "A ring at
he doorbell, and Eleanor Kent and her
ged mother entered, both bringing pres
nts for the children.
Although dressed very plainly, Flea
or never looked handsomer. The II
ears which had passed since her early
nd only love affair had touched her
ightly. She was now 80, but looked
luch younger.
She was great favurite with the
who called her Aunt Flea
or. They showed her the tree, the
resGnts and then Uncle Dicks
ome," they said, watching her face 10
ne a reflection there Of their own de-
ght at the return Of one whom she had
D often told them about. But only "a
title nervous smile tremblcd on her lips
nd died. And very soon afrerward she !
aust return home. She must write the
ames Of her Sunday school scholars il
he pretty, cheap books she had bought
Or them and practice the ofIortOry she
yas TO sing on the morrow, and, and
But the children would not hear Of il.
hey dragged her TO the piano and ,
creed her TO play for them as they sang ]
jolly Old st. Nicholas. " They shout I
d the rollicking song with such lusty
horus that old Mrs. Kent was afraid
hey would awaken the baby, whose
7rath when angered was terrible, but 4,
lrs. McCray treasured her and begged
,leanor to sing the offertory she was TO
ing at st. Brides, "While Shepherds
Watched Their Flocks by Night" But !
Eleanor didn't know it without music. (
Ter hands strayed over the keys, max
ng little impromptu chords and Ca
ences and then struck the prelude TO :
'osti's Memories, one of those songs
hat play upon the human heart strings a
iany time when alone she sang il, q
ut it was not song for Christmas eve; c
{ was too sad. !
As Richard Jennings anu his brother