Bettys Bright Idea | Page 5

they fastened the beautiful red cross up over
the table, and they stuck sprigs of pine or holly into every crack that
could be made, by fair means or foul, to accept it, and they were
immensely satisfied and delighted. Tottie insisted on hanging up his
string of many-colored beads in the window to imitate the effect of the
stained glass of the great church window.
"It looks pretty when the light comes through," he remarked; and Elsie
admitted that they might play they were painted windows, with some
show of propriety. When everything had been stuck somewhere, Elsie
swept the floor, and made up a fire, and put on the tea-kettle, to have
everything ready to strike mother favorably on her return.

[Decoration]

SCENE IV.
A freezing, bright, cold afternoon. "Cold as Christmas!" say cheery
voices, as the crowds rush to and fro into shops and stores, and come
out with hands full of presents.
"Yes, cold as Christmas," says John Morley. "I should think so! Cold
enough for a fellow that can't get in anywhere--that nobody wants and
nobody helps! I should think so."
John had been trudging all day from point to point, only to hear the old
story: times were hard, work was dull, nobody wanted him, and he felt
morose and surly--out of humor with himself and with everybody else.
It is true that his misfortunes were from his own fault; but that
consideration never makes a man a particle more patient or
good-natured-- indeed, it is an additional bitterness in his cup. John was
an Englishman. When he first landed in New York from the old
country, he had been wild and dissipated and given to drinking. But by
his wife's earnest entreaties he had been persuaded to sign the
temperance pledge, and had gone on prosperously keeping it for a year.
He had a good place and good wages, and all went well with him till in
an evil hour he met some of his former boon-companions, and was
induced to have a social evening with them.
In the first half hour of that evening were lost the fruits of the whole
year's self-denial and self-control. He was not only drunk that night, but
he went off for a fortnight, and was drunk night after night, and came
back to find that his master had discharged him in indignation. John
thinks this over bitterly, as he thuds about in the cold and calls himself
a fool.
Yet, if the truth must be confessed, John had not much "sense of sin,"
so called. He looked on himself as an unfortunate and rather ill-used
man, for had he not tried very hard to be good, and gone a great while

against the stream of evil inclination? and now, just for one yielding, he
was pitched out of place, and everybody was turned against him! He
thought this was hard measure. Didn't everybody hit wrong sometimes?
Didn't rich fellows have their wine, and drink a little too much now and
then? Yet nobody was down on them.
"It's only because I'm poor," said John. "Poor folks' sins are never
pardoned. There's my good wife--poor girl!" and John's heart felt as if it
were breaking, for he was an affectionate creature, and loved his wife
and babies, and in his deepest consciousness he knew that he was the
one at fault. We have heard much about the sufferings of the wives and
children of men who are overtaken with drink; but what is not so well
understood is the sufferings of the men themselves in their sober
moments, when they feel that they are becoming a curse to all that are
dearest to them. John's very soul was wrung within him to think of the
misery he had brought on his wife and children--the greater miseries
that might be in store for them. He was faint of heart; he was tired; he
had eaten nothing for hours, and on ahead he saw a drinking saloon.
Why shouldn't he go and take one good drink, and then pitch off a
ferry-boat into the East River, and so end the whole miserable muddle
of life altogether?
John's steps were turning that way, when one of the Shining Ones, who
had watched him all day, came nearer and took his hand. He felt no
touch; but at that moment there darted into his soul a thought of his
mother, long dead, and he stopped irresolute, then turned to walk
another way. The hand that was guiding him led him to turn a corner,
and his curiosity was excited by a stream of people who seemed to be
pressing into a building. A distant sound of singing was heard as he
drew nearer, and soon he found himself passing with the multitude