The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1896-12-22
Written for The Progressive Farmer.l
Ten Years After.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
BY IDA NJ

Is 1se Shandon to make merry the dear
old Christmas times. The rooms we're
beautifully decorated with ivy and
holly, glistening with red berries. And
from the chandler hung several sprays
of mistletoe.
The CRATES sent forth a sparkling,
ruddy glow, and everything seemed in
tune for the time Of year.
Outside, the earth was wrapped in q
soft mantle OF snow, and the pure
white fakes still dritted gently down
from a leaden colored sky.
Rose Shandon was just eleven years
old, and a very beautiful little fairy
like creature with bright golden hair
and big soft, brown eyes. Her guests
this evening we're all charmed with her
childish loneliness. Especially SO was
one squarely built handsome youth of
fifteen.
This was Herve Roland, who had
come to this party with his cousin,
Rome Semple, whom he was visiting
at this time.
Hence he was a stranger to all this
joyous group OF merry. makers except
ing his cousin, Rome. But, however,
he Q became acquainted with their
charming little hostess and the rest of
the party.
Herve was Of a vivacious character
and it was decidedly characteristic Of
him to want TO tease girls and boyp,
especially girls, younger than himself.
Nc oOner had he become acquainted
than he began to exercise this trait
among them in a very modest way,
which was exceedingly taking for the
most part.
But to Rose ShRndon it seemed moth
ing short of imposing To her it seemed
that he was too large and knew too
much to associate with the rest of the
party, as it consisted of children whose
ages ranged from five to twelve years
old.
In his innocent fun making it seemed
to Rose that he was taking advantage
and acting in a very rude manner. And
once when she had fallen victim to his
caprices she had of necessity to re,
train herself to keep from speaking
very unbecomingly to him. In short,
she thought he was a most contempt
IDLE being, and she did not like him a
bit.
The other children took his teasing
all in good part and seemed to coneid-
er his presence a real treat. Aud the
evening was being passed in high
jollity.
This merry making had reached it's
height. Childish voices rang out in
ceaseIes3 chatter. Peals CT intermit
tent laughter and wild rompings made
the house ring. The chandler burned
brightly and Rose stood sqIarely under
the swinging mistletoe. Herve Roland
perceived this and stepping up from
behind kissed Rose first on the cheek
and then on the mouth almost before
she knew it. Her anger was aroused,
and kIndled by the dislike che already
bore for him, she turned and dealt him
a singing blow in the face with her
clinched fist. Herve staggered back
ward, raised his hand to his face and
groaned. Rose ran from the room
crying and say ing she hated that Ro
land boy.
The remainder of the evening was
not spent s. joyously. In fact the in
cident acted as a kind Of barrier to the
pleasure of the evening. Herve R0
lands vivaciousness seemed to be nip
ped in the bud, besides he was likely
TO have a blue spot On the size Of his
nose. And Roses sprightlinees all
died out. She regretted that she
should have treated q guest SO very I'm
becomingly, but she could not sum
mon up courage to ASK his pardon.
Soon the hour for departure came
and Roses little friends scattered away.
She went to bed that night feeling
very much ashamed of her conduct,
yet feeling a bitter contempt for Herve
Roland. She felt that he deserved the
treatment she had given him, but she
was sorry she had lost her temper in
the presence of her many little friends
and marred the beauty Of the evening |
IN such a way.
Christmas morning dawned clear and
cold. Among the gifts strewn upon
the little table in Roses room, Vas a
tied-up box with H. R."
marked on the upper left hand corner.
When Rose espied this the blood