El Paso herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1901-1931, 1910-12-17
By RENE MANSFIELD

That was when the rose.color amb
tons of youth had seethed to the SUI
i face and he had left the farm Blu
the braggart assurance of the cit
para1yzed him He was not stupid, Blu
/ he grew to underestimate himself be
cause others did.
In five years he returned to the farm
for the funeral of his parents. He hal
hoped to renew some of the barefoo
friendships of his childhood. Blu
neither had the old friends the time tt
pierce his shell OF diff1dence. So he
returned again to the bookkeeper'E
desk in the city. friendless man.
December 25th." Barton crushed
the sheet IN his hand, and threw II
into the waste basket. Then he put
on his oyercoat and closed up the Of
fee. He slipped an envelope con
tanning a bill into the expectant hand
Of the elevator boy.
Thank you, Mr.. Barton. wish you
a Merry Christmas, SIR" the boy
said formally, with no trace of the
easy camaradie with which he had
thanked O'Connor.
Out on the street In the good-na-
tured, hurrying throngs Barton was
like withered bit of weed borne along
on a riotous wave of joyousness. At
the corner, where the crowd was
dense, the spire of a small Christmas
tree clutched in the arms of a big
Irishman grazed his face and cooked
his hat at an absurd angle. For a
brief moment he had been drawn into
the eddying spirit OF the street. He
Strengthened his hat and from habit
drew back his head between his
stopped shoulders.
Loosen up. We ould crouch, It's
Christmas Ave! Amt ye wise to ut?"
remarked the Irishman, and strobe on.
He paused at a brilliant shop win
dow. A woman with shawl over her
head and child stood near him.
ooh, ma, don't 1 wisht at or
W'iskers 'ud bring me doll like that
there one." cried the child.
Barton reached into his pocket, and
turned to the woman shyly. Tiff" he
began.
Come, Maggie. we must be gettin'I
home" said the woman taking the
child's hand. And they passed on.
Barton took his usual seat. at
Henry's cafe at table partially
screened from view by a couple Of
dusty, artificial palms.
Merry hristmas-sir-soup?" inquir-
ed the waiter.
"Yes-and turkey-and-and-say, John,
dx it up little, will you-some holly
or-or-"
Eyes, sir, I'll fix it up right for you, n
replied John, without enthusiasm.
Barton began almost to wish he had |
accepted O'Connor's invitation. But i
ne knew that he would have been butt
4 miserable spectator at happy home
Too, O'Connor's boisterous
Efforts to put him at his ease troubled |
lin.
uo,rvsc woe ---o,r a11oa IT, L.z,s
hought It possible that 80 many
should have no homes to dine in on I
Christmas Eve. He scanned the faces
If the men and women at the tables
about him. The men were for the
most part flushed of face and loud Of
speech. Before them on the tables
stood not only the bottles of cheap
vine served with the table d'hote, but
iiphons and bottles of whiskey to cele-
,rate the occasion. Barton searched |
he place for the face Of a woman
whom he could imagine sitting up far
nto the night to dress doll or fill a /
title stocking. There was not one
Imong them.
Barton smiled grimly when the
waiter brought in his turkey. At
either end of the thick, white platter
lpon which rested thick, dark slices
4 meat, he had placed sparse little
prigs of holly, quite berry-less and
With broken leaves.
Thank you, john" said Barton,
Iuietly.
As he was eating his desert he saw
he uosegay woman come in with her