Greenbrier independent. [volume] (Lewisburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1859-1980, 1895-12-19

a long time. Not clock licked, for
old Mr.. Roberts could not endure
the ticking of clocks. Not a leaf
stirred, not cricket chirped.
The stiffness disturbed him at last
and he looked up. The child was
out on the little balcony, leaning on
the stone balustrade. Her bonnet
had fallen off, and the sunlight, fall
ing on the mass of brown hair, wove
it full of CLEANS of gold.
Another touch on his arm-there
she was again. Her hand-such a
little morsel of hand--trembled
with some new emotion, and her
eyes shone with strange light.
cit must be nice to live on hill"
was what she said.
The old gentleman in the arm
chair had never been more astounded
in his life. He stared at her and
forgot to say anything.
" have always wanted to live on
hill," she went on. "Our house
Is away down yonder, and you can't
see any thing but the houses across
the street. But up here you can
look so far, and the sky's so close to
you. Don't you think people can
be better when they live on hill ?n
The newspaper fell on the floor
unheeded, and the crusty old gentle
man ami the little girl looked at one
another. After awhile the old gen.
tleman went to the balcony and
looked down to the roofs Of the
crowded houses in the narrow streets
below and then away to the far hori-
Zon. This beautiful home of his
crowned the summit of this purple
hill and was uplifted 80 far above
the noise and dust and wretchedness
Of the city that lay below. Truly.
1t was pleasant thing to live on a
hill. He had never thought of it
before, but all at once he fancied
himself down among those misera-
BILE tenements, looking up at this
beautiful home and thinking how
near to heaven it reached.
There was a hurried tap at the
door and Mrs. Murray presented
herself. Her comfortable figure was
attired still in the neat dress she had
worn in the street. Her round face
was wreathed in smiles, but she was
obviously f1uttered and quaking with
fear.
Did you leave word that YOU
wanted to see me. sir ?" she asked.
and then waited for the blow to fall.
Mrs. Marray," said the old gen.
tleman in his stiffest and most formal
manner, "am / to understand that
you have employed woman to
come here once q week and dust the
brio. .abrac ?"
Yes sir. Mrs. Holmes her name
is, and she's very careful, sir. II
couldn't do better"
She glanced up anXiously at the
wooden countenance before her,
What terrible thing was he going to
say neXt?"
Mrs. Murray, the woman has
sent this child to say that she is too
i'll to come. That will do. You
will excuse her until she recovers.D
Mrs. Murray went back to her
own room and fell into chair.
IT it had been consistent with the
dignity Of Mr.. Roberts housekeeper
to stagger, she certainly would have
staggered. She kept repeating to
herself: "Did you ever ?" and 81
can't believe it," She said after
ward that you might have knocked
her down with straw, though that
was fgurative, of course.
This was the beginning of Mar
Jorie's visits to the great house on
the hill. Her mother did not come
again, but every day the big sun
bonnet went toiling up, and then
the CLINT of the golden hair would
De seen in the great rooms where no
child had ever strayed before. Not
that she was bOisterous, or laughing,
or chIldlike in any way. She would
sit In Mrs. Murray's room for hours,
with her hands folded on her lap,
watching the lady at her work and
sometimes talking softly, or she
follow her from room to room, gaz-
ing with rapt delight at every beau
tiful object.
Mr.. Roberts knew that she was in
the house, but he said nothing. He
was conscious sometimes that the
child stopped near him and stood
with her hands behind her, regard
ing him with grave scrutiny, but he
did not drive her away, as he might
have been expected to do few
weeks before.
He was in his studyone morning
when he heard Mrs. Murray come
into the adjoining room" The door
was ajar, and, softly as she spoke,
her words came to him distinctly.
"That was present from my son
last Christmss," she said. dear
boy! He never fails to send me
something every Christmas and
every birthday"
Then came small voice, full of
Wistful meaning:
Mrs. Murray" it said, ado you
like Christmas ?"
=" Why Marjorie !" was the shocked
reply. "Why of course | dol
Everybody likes Christmas!,
81 DON'T" said the small voice
such desolate little voice 1t seemed.
Il would rather have Christmas out
of the year."
Marjoriew No words could ex-
press the horror and amazement in
Mrs. Murray's tone.
81 wouldP' The small voice had
grown thinner and higher In it's pain
ful intensity. WHATS the use of a
Christmas that never gets to some
people at all? There was little lame
Peter Franks, who lived in the room
opposite ours, and, oh, he wanted a
Christmas 80 much, Mrs. Murray -
He used to hang his stocking up
every year, every single year, and
he always thought there'd be some
thing In 1t next morning, but there