The Republican., 1900-12-20

dren's ward in the old hospital, and was so
funny and lovely that the pale little crea-
lures stretched out their hands to her, and
laughed little with their hoarse pain
laden voices. She had emptied her pockets
of pennies to the beggars that beset her
homeward path, and at three o'clock in the
afternoon had busted every article in the
quaint room to a fine polish.
Two great broad windows overlooked a
sloping hill and the roofs of many houses
Beyond lay the great gray ocean. A side
window was shelved from top to SILL and
filed with potted plants that bloomed pro-
fusely and overran the ugly red clay that
inclosed them.
Across one corner stood the piano. 1t
was the only really new thing at hand, and
its polished surface took on shadows of the
ancient grandeur about it, as if in apology
for its presence here. Opposite the flower
window was another recess filled with book
shelves, where goodly reading was to be had
between the shabby covers of many an old
treasure.
A few easy chairs and tables lay cozily
about; and the great brick fireplace with
its brass andirons and high old mantel shell
was the heart and core of the room.
Estella laid the fine thin old cloth care
fully on the round. polished table, garnish-
ing it by pinning little sprigs of holly on its
satiny surface.
She placed Urania' chicken by the warm
hearthstone, and on stool near by laid a
basket of rosy apples and pile of bread
with the great toast-for on guard. With
much pride of manner she turned out glass
of crab-apple jelly into an old glass dish
and fanked it by another dish of branded
peaches.
"That will surprise the girls" she said,
and laughed little as she showered Pencil
ope's lavish supply of candies in every con-
ceivable little receptacle she could find.
Estella looked queenly Her black satin
gown was old, but she had drawn over the
patched waist ichu of soft yellow lace,
and fastened in its folds bunch of pretty
old velvet wall flowers Her hair had a
trick of curling itself into proper places,
and a CLINT of its old auburn tint was in
its white sheen- Her eyes were bright and
her cheeks rosy with expectancy.
Toward five o'clock the shadows grew
| heavier. Day was almost gone. Estella
went to the window, looked out a moment
on the sea. Even the great deep is quiet
to-day" she said, "and there is no poor
lonesly Estela this Christmas
She drew the curtains, put fresh log on
the blazing fire and hurried to answer a
timid little knock that came on her door.
| As the gust of air rushed in she looked up
to see Penelope and Urania with hoods off
and hands extended, whilst they sang in
nasal tones the old street waits: 81 pray
you, merry gentlemen" Estella laughingly
whirled them into the room, saying: 81 am
dismayed."
With many loving kisses, wishes for
''merry Christmas" and soft little words,
they were divested of wraps and furs and
finally nestled down into easy chairs with
the restful spirit of the hour floating lightly
on their tired senses.
Penelope began knitting some soft, fluffy
white thing that grew and grew in ampli-
tude; and Urania, after examining the prep
arations for supper with pleased anxiety,
busted herself with toast-fork and apples
Estella wandered about the room idly for
awhile, saying few words, and now and
again touching the cheek or hair of her
old friends with the tips of her slight fin
gers. Then, finding her seat at the piano,
she drifted off into the land of music and
ecstasy, golden haired child, softly beck
oning the way.
Penelope and Urania kept quiet accom-.
paniment with needles and fork, and up the
chimney tiny fame spirits danced, while
the eheery logs sang a tune all their own.
As the last notes of "Chopin's Lament
fell on the air, great tear spashed down
Urania's soft cheek and fell into the snowy
heart of the last roasted apple.
"Time!" cried Penelope, though her own
eyes were moist, and she drove her knitting
needle straight through the unsuspecting
apple.
Estella sprang up and came laughing to
the freside. Then up jumped the others,
and, singing the Keel Row." danced about
the table as in their school days
The flames shot pink light on the op-
posite wall, and made the dancing figures
look like little girls. The old portraits on
the wall took on disappearing air, and the
little flame spirits ieered; but the great logs
sang a soft sweet song, and the dear Christ
Child nestled close to the old hearts that
had found Him, and caressed the wrinkled
faces into irnaues of love and nannA