The Pensacola journal., 1922-12-24

Il - where an open fire burned
merrily. He drew up two
great chairs, and. brought out ci-
gars. He was a banker in the
city, a big man and prosperous. a
man whose god, 1 had always sup
posed, was success. About his
breakfast table that morning had
hovered diamond and platinum
jewelry, strings of pearls. expen-
sive furs, promises of new motors,
of trips to Europe.
1T was mighty good of you."
said, ito invite me into your home
on Christmas Day"
He smiled and shook his head.
christmas Day." he repeated
softly. Il wonder if you ever feel
as 1 doom Christmas Day? Per-
haps you do. For you, too, were
born and grew up in a little town"
He went over to his desk and came
back with an old, time-yellowed
envelope. "A letter." he explain
ed-"a litter L happened to run
across the other day. But before
1 read it again, l want to tell
you-'
When Life Was Simpler.
The butler came in. Frank
would like to speak to you, sir.
1t appears there is something
wrong with the transmission III
the big car
Il can't be bothered" said my
host. 'Thell him to get it fixed
tomorrow. And shut the doors"
Before I speak again about tits
letter. my host continued, II
want to tell you something of the
home where l grew up. My father
was a minister in town of nine
thousand people. You know what
that means. We never had any
money. Eight hundred a year
and the parsonage-why, that fur
coat l gave Helen this morning
would have meant more than two
years salary to my grandfather.
Only eight hundred, hut my moth
y and he-they lived on it some
Iow-they even educated five chill
rem. OF course, in those days
mere were no bills for electricity
gas for telephone, for phono-
,raph records. for oil and tires and
asoline. Life was much simpler
fen" He sighed.
Il can remember a constant
>ruggle to keep things going, but
ever any envy, never any bitter
.ess. My father had, 1 recall,
ust three avagances-rather
itiful they seem now. He spent
ONE money for books-the best;
lie sent us to the best dentist in
own; he always insisted on the
,Cst olive oil for his table. The
zig ambition of his life was to
make a trip abroad, and the walls
his study were covered with
pictures he had cut from maga-
zines-the French cathedrals, the
Italian lakes, the Swiss Alps. Oft
en- he took the grand tour on foot
about the room. 1t was the near
est he ever got to his dream.
There was a college i'll a city
about five miles away, and while
we children We're still very small
my mother and father decided it
would be fine if he could take n
few extra courses there. So he
started in, three days a week, rid
ing over with the milkman in the
mornings and walking back even
ings-to save car fare. He studied
philosophy, science, he labored
hard and it never brought him an
added penny but 1 doubt if he
realized that. He increased his
store of knowledge, and that made
him happy"
The Thrill That is Gone.
The butler opened the door. A
blare of jazz from a phonograph
swept in. The telephone, sir.
Mr.. Smith,"
wish him Merry Christmas,
and tell him l can't come. 1 won't
talk business today" The servant
disappeared.
Where was I? Oh. yes-well,
you can see for yourself what sort
of home it was. A simple home.
\ hard pull but a cheerful one. An
atmosphere of books and music