Eagle River Democrat. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1893-1896, 1895-12-23

as Lney gFaBDeu MS Dig travelling Dag
almost before the hackman had time
to carry it into the hallway.
Hugs and kisses were exchanged all
around, and his sister Wept a few sweet
memorial tears. He had grown SO like
his father, she thought. All, if mother
could see him now-that mother whose
patient, loving face was pictured on can
vas in the quaint, Old-fashlOned frame
hanging on the parlor wall.
His nephew, Alex, handsome lad, led
him up to the same room in 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;
books. And over the fireplace was a
photograph of Eleanor Kent!
He threw himself into 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 out with his
two eldest nephews, Alex and Sam, to
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 now! The sense
of loneliness which had haunted him for
years, was gone, and .yetLin week he
would be back again in that quiet house
of his in ST. Louis, with no othergoccu-
pant save the faithful Sarah Burns!
1t was Christmas eve. All the lights
were burning brightly in the McCray
mansion. 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 it was
a glorious sight to behold. The children
had never been so happy. All of them
had gotten an unusually large number
of presents. Uncle Dick alone. had
bought three and four each, even the
baby. In the big sitting room the; pres
ents were displayed on an old mahog-
any table that reminded you of some
down at the formidable looking kclaws
which served for it's feet. But the table
could not contain them all, so Several
chairs were placed on either sides of it
to hold the overflow exhibition.
AS the evening waned Uncle Dick
and Papa McCray lit their cigars and
went out for a walk. They hads been
gone but few minutes when there
was a ring at the doorbell and Eleanor
Kent and her aged mother enteredy both
bringing presents for the Children
Although dressed very plainly, Flea
nor never looked handsomer. The sew
enteen years which had passed since her
her lightly. She was now 35, but looked
much younger.
She was great favorite with the
children, who called her ''Aunt Eleanor"
They showed her the tree, the presents
and then-"Uncle Dicks home," they
said, watching her face to see refec-
ton there Of their own delight at the
return of one whom she had so often
told them about. But only little nerv-
Gus smile trembled on her lips and died.
And very soon afterward she must re-
turn home. She must write the names
of her Sunday school scholars in the
pretty, cheap books she had bought for
them and practice the offertory she was
to sing on the morrow, and. and
But the children would not hear of it.
They dragged her to. the piano and
forced her to play for them as they sang
"Jolly Old st. Nicholas" They shouted
the rollicking song with such lusty
they would awaken the baby, whose
wrath when angered was terrible, but
Mrs. McCray treasured her anu begged
Eleanor to sing the offertory she was to
sing at St. Brides, "While Shepherds
Watched Their Flocks by Night" But
Eleanor did not know it without music.
Her hands strayed over the keys. max
ing little impromptu chords and cadences
and then struck the prelude to Tostis
Memories" one of those songs that play
upon the human heart strings. Many
time when alone she sang it, but it was
not song for Christmas eve; it was too
sad.
AS Richard Jennings and his brother
in-law re-entered the house, the sound of
her rich, sweet voice reached their ears.
''Who is singing?" asked Richard.
cts Eleanor Kent was the reply.
Low and clear and sweet the words,
molten into music, reached their ears.
There is no note Of all your songs Of yore
That does not speak to me of you once
more.
There is no place we two have ever seen
That does not whisper of the might have
been.
There is no path of all that once we knew
That does not hold some memories OF you.
Still though they call the wild tears to mine
eyes,
1 would not yield them for paradise.
The two men entered the room softly,
and Eleanor went on singing, uncon-
scious of their presence:
There is no hand clasp that you ever gave
That does not live, though love be in its
grave.
Richard Jennings drew nearer to his
old sweetheart, gazing intently at her
lovely face. An instant later he held
her in his arms and imprinted a fervent
kiss on her blushing cheek.-Philadelph