Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1896-01-09

windows had taken on FESTIVE All, anu
the dirty little newsboy who onered Brett
an evening paper grinned at him as ne
battered on Jingle about giving him a
dime 10 cheer the Christmas time Brett
gave the child quarter. and the little
fellow began dancing n war dance OF de-
Iight until a burly policeman shook his
finger at him with a gOOd-natured rcpri-
mand
As Brett passed Thorleys and looked I'm
at the branches OF holly. mistletoe, ana
the masses OF violets In the windows NE
eyes fastened on bunch Of snowdrops IN
a bed of moss. lie wondered II Grace
would mind II he sent them TO her even
now, though she was probably married
long ago TO some iuckier fellow. Anyhow
they might 20 anonymously ana perhaps
she would wear them to church christ
mas morning; perhaps they might even
remind her of the faded tokens OF lost
love. There was great many custom
ers in the chop. and the air was warm
and scented with flowers; the odor OF
the place summoned his old memories
again. and they rushed over him with
such a force that he stood staring stu
pidly before him until civil clerk asked
what he wished.
give me those snowdrops in the win
dow" said Brett. II want them Tut up
with some mHlQeludiI fern anu StAt ~
Miss Grace Ward" and he gave her adj
dress. The man looked at him question
ingly. There must be some mistake,
sir" he said at last. There has been a
BAPTIST church on that corner for three
years" Possibly" returned Brett i
have been away. Perhaps you coud ma
the name in the directory Bot there
were four Grace Wards TO choose from
all spinsters, all unemployed. 80 brett
gave ND his little Christmas onerins IN
despair Make up the flowers into
boutonniere, then" he said In take
them anyway" and when he walked
away at last he wore her colors III MS
/ buttOnhole.
Th- street-lamps were burning now,
and the broad windows blazed with yell
low light. The dense crowd that packed
/ the Rialto retarded his steps; some boys
/ we're blowing tin horns over In the
| square. but the ear-piercing noise ap-
reared to annoy nobody Tonight
! Christmas humor Tapped the world IN
/ good nature.
II seemed TO Brett that crossing TWEEN
ty-third street was not a bad imitation
| of a football rush The struggle anna
the sureing mass Of humanity began TO
excite him and drown his sense OF alooi-
ness. His mind became more alert, ana
he noticed the character Of the signs
/ around him The variety Of music SHOPS
/ was astonishing What an amount OF
| strumming people must do TO justify so
many makes of pianos" he thought. In
all this district the buying and the sell
/ ing went on with an eager restlesahess
| that claimed his attention. IL was not
until ne got into the comparative quiet
beIov the stores that the old memories
laid hold on him again. Then they re-
] trfNiNnpgE. Tor every
foot of this ground was sacred 10 his van
/ ished lady love IL was too strong ior
him. this Christmas ghost; IL SWEPT him
ont of himself and into the past uhti
he walked again i'm that walking dream
which had bounded him back TO the scene
of his dead joy and living despair.
AZ he passed the Church Of the Ascen-
sion some one came out and wave OF
music burs, into the street through the
omen door like an invitation TO the wan
derer. 1t was the place or places con-
nected i'm his thoughts with Grace, anu
though he knew il would mean suffering
/ for him. there was "A promise OF bitter
| svyeet in the memories that tempted MN
| to enter the dim church and SIT down
i'm the old pew whore she had sat WIN
him Sunday after Sunday in their prlel
rho air was heavy with the odor oil
/ box and cedar but the CHRISTMAS CUR
/ lands looked black i'm tho dlm .EnI
that filtered down from the orean-loil
whore the choir practiced huully.
Sometime the anthem Numbered
/ through the empty building, sometimes
a woman's voice rose and SCARED IKE
birds s.ng But Brett leaned his head
/ unon his hands. and despair nlled MS
/ heart and overlooked in bitter tears.
II he had been a better man, maybe
this God she prayed 10 would have been
merciful If he had been purer man,
| tho temptation that ensnared MN Woulu
! have fallen harmless. But l could not
love her better than / DO now 1
were a saint in Heaven" he muttered.
II could not love her any better" lie
remembered how often he used TO amuse
/ himself during the scrmOn-time by PIC
turing her as she would look in this
very church when she became his bride
] He would fix his eyes on the stuc-
/ coed angels over the altar and day
dream pleasantly until the benediction
awoke him with a start. The dim, sepul-
chral place, like, and yet unlike the
/ building ne remembered, seemed III
crave for the ghost Of his dead hopes.
The singers were going. now; he could
hear their self-suppressed laughter and
! talk as they descended the stair. He,
too. rose and made his way into the
street. very heart-heavy with the bur
den OF unspoken sorrow.
IL was quite dark and a thin, blue
mist had settled over the city II gave
the street-lamps stellar rays, and blurred
the outlines against the houses. Brett
knew that his pilgrimage was nearly
over; he had only 20 so a little further
and he would see the square I'm which
she had played as a child, and where
they had walked as lovers. Her home
I WAS changed. and she was lost TO him,
| but the brown trees and the green grass
would still be the same: nature, as ever,
would be more immutable than stone,
more friendly than humanity.
The two giant houses that crouched at
| either end Of the avenue were old ac-
auaintances Of his. He knew just how
their red walls glowed under the black
lacework OF leahess vines, but could not
account for the great white blur that he
saw through the mist 1t was only when
he came nearer that the stately grandeur
OF a marble arch cleaned down upon him.
| 81 don't like it," he thought 1T Is i'm
perial and pagan. 4 free school or
I university would have been a better me-
mortal 10 the Father of His Country. As
il any one cared what l thought" he
added, bitterly. He leaned against the
white pile. looking at the lonely place
which his fancy had painted full of spring
greenery and the laughter OF children, as
he had last seen IT, but on this December
night its damp walks were almost re-
pulslve I'm their desolation. as II its origi-
nal character OF POtters Field grinned
skull-like amid the ornaments OF pleas
ure garden IL was better upon Twenty
third street he reflected where the rush
OF people kept his wits about him.
Under the stress of the pain that wrung
l.. -
that French fellow who says we must
never return 10 our first lover" he asked
himself. Perhaps If / saw her now IL
would be worse than satisfying myself
with this perfect memory. Perhaps she
his grown loud-voiced and POLITICAL or II