The Robesonian. [volume] (Lumberton, N.C.) 1870-current, 1897-07-14
IoNi6HTIoN

fire down here in the station
house"
| Nellie followed him gladly, and
soon found herself in a small
room, heated by stove. Her
new friend gave her some bread
and sausages for her supper, and
then made her snug bed in a
warm corner; and she lay down,
and slept until broad daylight.
"Did you ever hear of a Mr..
Goldthwaite, in Grafton?" she
asked, after she had shared the
old station masters breakfast,
and was about to bid him adieu.
| He shook his head.
Dunno as [ ever did. I can't
remember names, and don't go
to Grafton often"
"But you can show me which
way to go, sir?'' ----
eyes, yes! you take that road
to the left, there, and keep
straight on. Grafton's a bit be-
yond Cedar Greek. But you'll
have snow about your ears before
you get there, if you don't hur-
Try"
Nellie wrapped her shawl close,
bade her friend grateful fare
we'll, and set forth on her journey.
The cold was bitter, the sky over
cast and lowering, and wailing
wind filled the desolate wood
through which the road ran, with
Emournful music.
Nellie's little heart ached, and
so did her weary limbs; but she
went bravely on. Noon passed,
and the short-lived winter after
noon went like a dream.
"Please, SIR" she asked of a
Eteamster, twill you tell me how
| far Grafton is?'
"Oh! not very far. Just be-
yond Cedar Creek
Nellie struggled on, The snow
had begun to fall rapidly, and it
would soon be dark. She was so
tired, so cold, SO hungry; and it
was Christmas Eve. Trudging on,
she recalled Christmas Eve, when
she had her mother; and binding
tears fell from her eyes.
At last, just as the night came
down, she reached turbid stream,
spanned by rustic bridge. It
must be Cedar Greek, and Grafton
was not far. .--.
She took heart again but the
cruel winds tore off her hood, and
sent it whirling away through the
snow. Painting, breathless, her
dark locks tossing in the storm,
she paused at the foot of the
bridge, her limbs failing her, and
unable to proceed.
Far off, family borne on the
winds, she heard sweet chime of
Christmas bells. All the world
was so happy. Yet she was out in
the storm, she had no friend, her
strength was gone, she felt she
must lie down and die. Her mo-
theirs last words came back to her
at that moment, to, comfort her.
"The loving Father, who cares for
the young sparrows, will care for
YOU"
The words gave her temporary
strength. She struggled on again
in the teeth of the storm, and
crossed the bridge. But in the ra-
vine beyond, her strength failed
utterly, and she sank down by the
way-side. She tried to get up,
but fell back. Her eyes closed.
The fatal torpor, which is the mes
senger of death, clouded her brain :;
she murmured, "Mother, dear mo-
ther," and lost consciousness.
1t was about this hour, that in
a luxurious mansion, near Graf
tom the door of the principal
apartment opened, and a young
lad came in.
StHere's Fred, at lastl Oh,
Fredl you're going to Grafton for
the girls?" cried several voices,
those of his sisters.
Fred came in, stamping the
snow from his feet.
"To be sure. 1 told Dick to
put black Bess to the big sleigh.
Let me get my overcoat, and I'm
off,"
Mrs. Goldthwaite looked up
from her needlework.
"1t' is late, and so stormy.
Maybe you'd better not 90, Fred. +"
"Bless your heart, Mamma,
don't mind the storm; and the
girls can wrap up WE'LL"
"Oh, Mamma! let him co.
cried Flora. ''We shall have nc
} Christmas without Lizzie and
| II