Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1912-11-27
The Argus Daily Story
Christmas Bells-By F. A. Mitchell.
copyrighted 1919. by Associated Literary Bureau

mouse.
Suddenly a clock without began to
strike. and bells all over the city were
ringing in Christmas day. l should
have thought OF my critical position,
but instead I was impressed with the
ringing of the bells. The most solemn
thing In the world is tolling bell. and
the most gladstone is the sound OF
bells ringing for some joyful event.
1 was standing listening to the merry
jangle when the boy began to stir in
his crib, opened his eyes and listened
fntently. He had evidently been arous-
ed by the bells. Then he sat up and,
seizing his horn, began to blow q blast
that should have caused me to beat q
hasty retreat. But 1t didn't The bells
without and the horn within were so
typical Of Christmas that In my sp-
probation Of the ushering IN of the
day I forgot that I stood, as It were,
at the door Of a prison cell. I heard q
chuckle in one of the rooms and o
mans voice call out:
merry Christmas, BENNY Now, 60
to sleep again and give Santa Claus q
chance to come down the chimney
and I'LL your stocking"
But the boys mother couldn't keep
away from him, and the first thing
knew a woman In her nightdress
came through the hall. started down
stairs, but was too late. She gave the
alarm. A man sprang into the hall and
before 1 had reached the lower story
seized me. He was big and strong
white 1, weak from want Of food, was
unable to resist
The horror Of my situation did MOI
affect me as one would suppose u
would. A jail hasn't the terror for
one who cannot feed himself that II
has for one who doesn't know depriva-
ton. I resigned myself 10 my, fate.
The man, seeing that there was little
to fear from me, took me into his
library and turned on the lights. Then
he stood looking at me. The Christi
mas bells were still ringing without,
and 1t seemed to me that they were
a lettering influence upon my captor
to turning fellow being on this bless.
ed morning over to the police. How.
ever, he mastered his repugnance and
started to a telephone when In walked
Benny in his nightie. He stood looks
ing at me for moment. then said,
"Oh, thought you was Santa Ciauss
run back upstairs, sonny" said the
man.
"Who is he. papa?" !
''One who stole into the house to take
your Christmas gifts from you"
The little fellow looked very sober.
what are you going to do with him?"
he asked Of his father.
Send him to jail"
-And he won't have any ChristmasT"
mo. Wicked persons don't deserve tn
have any Christmas"
I've never had Christmas" said
despairingly, but thus far I've never
spent one in jail. I am starving and
came in here to get something l could
sell so that might buy a meal"
The man looked at me inquiringlys
Perhaps there was sincerity in my face
that moved him.
your first burglary?" he asked
81 have never stolen a penny In my
life"
No great time had thus far passed
since 1 was discovered, and the bells
were still ringing. They were beating
against this mans heart
You can CO." he said presently.
And, papa" put in Benny, cant q
give him some Of my Christmas gifts Pc
Time enough for that tomorrow"
replied the father, then to me, "If
you'll come here about noon I'll have
talk with you and see If I can do
anything to help you"
Cant he have a part Of our Christ,
mas dinnerr asked Benny.
To this the father paid no attention,
but, opening the front door, told me to
go forth, saying to me as 1 passed outs
'Tf you're sincere you'll come back to.
morrow; If you're a hardened criminal
/ shall probably never see you again.
Go before those bells stop ringing"
"Goodby?' cried Benny. Come to-
dinner"
/ did return to dinner, and found al
friend. He dared not at once trust me-
in bis house, but he gave me position
as porter IN his place of business. It
was not long before he discovered that
i possessed a gift more enduring than
any that could be given at Christmas
my artistic feculty-and he sent me to-
an art school to study. That was years
ago, and l am now prominent In my
profession. Benny is a young man and
comes often TO my studio. We are
strong friends. tell him that he saved
more than my life. Hanging to the
wall Of my artists den is the tin horn
which walked his parents on Christmas
morning and led to my regeneration.
But the Christmas bells. i have
heard them many a time since they
awakened in me a conscience, quick.
ened the spirit of mercy in the man I
had come to rob and snatched me from
the life of a criminal. No matter where
/ am on Christmas morning, how tired
and sleepy. whether sick or well, / am
awake before the dawn listening for
them. And never do ! hear them but
my heart IL filed with the blessed in
huence OF the child who came on an
and OF mercy to all men.
III Nov 01 - z.io,