The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1920-12-24
EoeningStow
The Black Sleeps Xmas.
BY MARY MORRISON.

lying IdHoSedpes ne WOuOSTeu dI the
impulse which had made him take this
trip after fifteen years of careful abb
sence, during which he had steeled
himself against all memories of the
little New England village with its
broad main street, its white columned
! church, and its view of distant hills
] which on winter afternoons like this
| glimmered with soft lavender and blue
lights. He remembered how as a child
he had labored up one of those hills
hoping to find it covered with lavender
blossoms, and how disappointed he had
been to discover that what looked like
! color from the village was only the
! afternoon light on common bayberry
| bushes.
John Emmet had been the bad boy
of New Guiford-at least, that is how
the village still referred to him. ALI
ms attempts at reform had been coldly
ignored and when at the age of twenty
I he had left for the big city it had been
with only bitterness in his heart. If
the austere Virtue of the town could
not forgive him for having one Fourth
! OF July put a firecracker under the
| pulpit and somwhat rudely interrupted
the minister's fifty-mlnute sermon,
why should he submit to the homesick-
ness that he had never quite been able
10 overcome? He hated the weakness
that was leading him back now. but
nevertheless as the conductor called
out New Guilford he felt q tremor of
excitement rushing over him. He was
solns 10 spend Christmas under the
SnauoW OF those purple hills again,
DIack sheep or no black sheep!
AS ne walked down the familiar
roao tnat led to the old Emmett house,
excitement and elation left him as sud
denly as they had come. The house
mad been closed ever since the death
father Sfn
ago. II would be cold and damp and
ABOVE all, lonely What fool he had
Deen to think of a merry Christmas"
alone in an uninhabited house. Well,
mere he was and he'd see it thru, any
way He passed the Griswold house
and stopped for a moment as if TEMPT
ed TO go in. 1t looked so gay and
cheerful with it's holly decked win
doWs thru which he could catch the
reflection of the roaring fire he knew
was burning in the big hearth. EN-
met had never quite been able to for
get Betty Griswold. The memory of
her as she had stood in the twilight
that Hateful afternoon fifteen years
ago and her parting words to him
would. in spite of every effort to for
get, come to taunt him with their
sweetness.
"Goodby, Johnny. I will never, new
er forget you" she had said.
Emmett had refused to acknowledge
the light that shone in the girls eyes
and had decided to put her out of his
heart along with the rest of New Gull
ford-but somehow she was mex
plicably mixed up with the homesick-
ness that came over him every time
he saw a New York, New Haven &
Hartford timetable.
Il guess this trip will cure me, all
right" he muttered to himself as he
walked on. He Approached his house
n n Cf n ND Hr1 I,A yo{o Af
looking to right nor left. With the
same steely indifference he took the
big front door key from his pocket and
fitted it into the lock, swinging back
the door.
A pungent smell of Christmas greens
and the crack1e of burning logs made
John Emmett halt ON the threshold for
moment in surprise. BuncheS of
holly decorated the hall table. there
was an air of festivity permeating the
whole atmosphere. It was very much
bewildered John Emmett that silently
closed the door and entered the well
remembered living room.
Perched up on a ladder the fire
light filling her hair with delightful
little golden glints, sat a girls She was
something-JohfiA could not quite
make out what. Then he saw
"Of all things. mistletoe" he ex-
claimed to himself
She was perfectly unconscious of his
presence and went on with what she
was doing with a pretty intenseness,
humming to herself as she worked. 1t
was not until she had finished and
started to come down from her lofty
perch that she saw John standing in
the doorway, a strange light in his
eyes.
"Oh" she murmured, and even
John Emmet, IMMERSED as he had be-
come to the ways of women, noticed
that she turned pale as she said it.
Good Cod. Betty! Am I dreaming,
or Is it really you? " He spoke at
last his voice husky with the pent-up
emotions of fifteen years. The girl
sat down on the ladder again as if
her strength had deserted her.
"Oh, I'm real enough" she replied
slowly. IT'S you who must be the
dream"
John laughed at this-really laugh
ed. He approached the ladder and
held up his hand.
SHAKE" he returned. land that
will prove my alibi.'' For some rea-
son he made that handshake last a
very long time.
whats the answer, Betty? Why
all this festivity for the -for-noth-
ing black sheep? I expected to find
the house damp, cherries, unin-
habitable hole-and then 1 come in
and see a bower of loneliness, and you
queen u ln0 SICpldQQ0I- w lldl
does it mean?" He poured out his
questions in a torrent, : resting his
hands on the ladder as If to hold on
to the vision.
well, it's just that couldn't bear
to think of your house falling to pieces
for want of friendly hand" replied
Betty, flushing. There is a lack of
morale about an empty house that
always appeals to unexpectedly at
Christmas when everything should be
bursting with cheerfulness. I hated
to think that yours was going to rack
and ruin behind your back, so to speak
so every Christmas 1 break open
your back door and dress the rooms
up a bit, just to remind them that
they have an owner even IL he doesn't
care enough to come back and see to
it himself"
The look which she bent on John re-
minded him of all the beautiful, half
forgotten things he had ever expert
enced in l'fe. Suddenly that Icy OBJ
4, 1ase hno ~ ~