The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1899-12-27

BkOU6dT In. AN1~6lnF 40 On o2s1s" S@'
his Shoes
for It would be futile. 1t was too late
for speculation. What good to analyze
the past for causes when the irresist-
ible, impending effect was upon him
when it had not only knocked at his
door, but had entered and stood walt
ing, beckoning and impatient?
The old year was going out So must
he, too. 60 out. like big candle. but
whittier? What care does old Time
take Of his children. the dead years?
Where do wearied souls find haven
when the clay which gave them tene-
ment is cold7 He propped his back
with pillows and sat up in bed, staring
out the window Into the falling gloom
/. OF the short December afternoon, but
seeing not even the scattered fakes OF
snow banished from few scurrying
clouds marking the winter sky with
swift changing formations. His
thoughts were introspective. but domi-
!. mating them all in gloomy monotone,
like the irreverent booming Of deep,
toned bell marking q sunken reef. tell
inx of destruction standing with jaws
aaape, WAS that one he could not es-
cape II he would-he was done; he
was done; here was the end!
The barren room. Ill clad even for
that poor tenement. excited his disgust
. ri with a long groan he came back to
his surroundings. 1t smelled evil. too,
Ike Q basement dive, for he had slept
there long-hou long be hardly knew
and 1t reeked Of bis potations. He got
ND unsteadily and, drawing on his
trousers. rung up window overlook
ing the street. The fresh. keen air
rushed upon him bitingly. but he SEEM
ed not to feel its sting. Leaning far
out, he drank It eagerly. Lighted cars,
filled with, home going people who
seemed gay. hurried past on North
CLARK street, parkward, to the run1c
rhyme of the cable, to the changing OF
the bells the grIpmen gave voice IN
warning or in greeting. Most OF the
passengers carried little bundles. Some
I OF them held boughs or wreaths Of dec
oratiye evergreen. Tomorrow would
( be the New Year. They were going
home. content. perhaps with good res
iolutions. Going where? Home!, Where
was his home? What was It? he shiv-
cred and, shutting down the window,
. drew to the pile Of huddled clothes
which lay upon the door beside his bed.
The door behind him opened softly.
letting in shaft of yellow light from
the room beyond. and it threw across
the floor. even to his feet, the shadow
of the woman who loved him. AS she
stood there. looking uncertainty into
the dusk where he sat obscured, his
eyes were still bent upon that sill
houette. picturing on the coarse mat
ting her waved hair. her fair outline.
all grace and dear womanhood. all his
the pearl be had won as prize In life's
tourney and flung away,
George" his wife called gently.
care you getting up?"
He grunted roughly. for In truth 8
new kindled emotion choked him, and
he would not trust his tongue.
AS II IN echo of his voice there came
) from the lighted room the sound Of
Gathering blocks and falling tin, q
swift patter Of little feet and an eager,
childish treble crying out gleefully:
"Oh. mamma, Is papa upP
A boy Of 6 years ran past his mother
and. with instructive seeking.like steel
to magnet, plunged through the semi
: darkness straight into his fathers
arms with shout OF Joy.
The man cuddled him close. but be-
meath his breath uttered something
like another groan.
"Santa Claus is coming tomorrow.
papa," the child said, and as the man
sat still. only hugging him closer. he
went on: Because. you know. he
couldn't get here Christmas. he was 80
busy, and there were 30 many poor