THE GHOST OF A CHRISTMAS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2130, 20 December 1894, Page 28

THE GHOST OF A CHRISTMAS.

{Specially Written far the Witness Christmas

Number of ISO 4)

By BERNARD ESPINASSE.

TO MY READERS.

We p.ro a'l sutyefc to c hests. Net material Dhantoms (so lo speak), perhfips, but those of tbin;/e long r^ad «nd burled siul done w^h— cLo-ts cf memory, that tbe eyes of the mind see It is t.warrls *h<i nul of tl-e year that these "fhect.d ghosts" (on fitc nil thoughts po-siHy it woul.l b-more app-opriato to toy, ••These wcl-bL.i.kMo.l ghoss") cm-r^e from tho nuntnl .- arc. phagi vhiivin they hnve lain do-m:-nt, and di-port themselves with rarlicukr di-tinc ness lam my elf haun'ed by a Bpec'ro Iti* the gh<st of aChis'nias. This wraith is on"y one ot a family. I' someiimestakes the sVape of a lit lc boy in Unielc-rbocloM s, who ate plnm pudi-ing bfca')se he loved it, and because, ht- thought; it ihe most heavenly thing cvi- of paradise. I know lh-.t boy ; he is lookirg at me now out of the looking glass At other times it appears (it is the s»rae ghost and thePbmeboy, oolj older) io theliktue ss of ay< ung man "pe^injr r. l^H-- n\ , ;.tti as in a strange html, tnv frou triiMid* n.u iJa. . The ptople who nt ftt the t.ibic- v..ii 'jii« are otrangers, tt itb f^: 1 " ,• ;■- >-i"-ts. I-* 1 ' >rs in Jif<* f V; 1i,..r no i .'i cf ih. ■ '1 i' ». •is himsHf al.n c dam ,7-t Lucii- I'bf ■<'--} ■-in i - overhead, bnt it j« iLi- ".Ui- -■ ' 'in •- ''" J'" li s pver known. Ac-'i'i tit appai'MHi (u'ui .'''' i p&UHRR on the r , . to i .) ■ -.(• t>>" >n;]"M'HH ir" a Chrißtmas bi>. ' i, :u.«i .v.c i : V (*gr«c>. hi I' 'hat w« mount in the course of the great pilgrimage is pa-sed forever. This is no grim, forbidding double, for a young wife, newly married, nods aud smiles »t him across the table Yet the shadow of a tear ia in his tye, for there is a vacont chair. The best and only friend of youth and manhood, whee eyes *e'e wont to me?t hi-s own in love and pride, pledges him no lor-ger in the glafs that he rai'es silently to his lips. And tht-reis ano'her shade, a very vague and shwpeless visitADt, who intrude himf elf wh^n I am thoroughly enjoying mymlfjauxhing with those who laugh with mp, Mid fchonig their mirth in mine. It is the ghost of a Chri&tmas that must come when I fhall ki.ow n-.tbing of ifc, when other ears sh«H h*-ar the bells that ring ro more for me, and other fceb will pa-s where I have ceased to tre»d. I don't like that ghost I corsidc- him wholly unnecessary, and I lave a cuspicon that he is uot a polite gto*t I fry to pen-u-dt myself that I have nothing to do with him, and put him out cf mv th< v, hts accordingly. Bub he comes back occa-icnally n»-ver-tkelcss. But llipfc flitting shadows have n< thing to do with my original statement — which is true encut-h— that I am haui>ted by the gh< sfc of a Ch i tm;>s. M< rfover— and this is th^ wcrsl of it— it is not my Christmas, bufc somebody i Isc's Chris" mas • After s.tting for a dubious hour, pan in baud, wave'ii'g »*> the threshold of a (Jhtiitroas article, not f"i- lack i f su» jects, bub for uncertainty of te'ectu n, I have mudly dec : ded to unceffin myphaitom aud, shifting the repp-n-sibility on to bis shcu'ders, as it were, 'ct h-m tell y< v a story ar.out a Ohri-tmes Not i>ut nhat I might, have fern tnd hlkm*- am n.st the archives of my own memory in tha respect bad Iso choseu. Taking you to lan s kcoss the seae, I might have <ie«crib»d Chri-tm-s Day among th»i peasant- of Andorre, th»t happy litt'e nation of 7000 si uls iv the lap of the Pj r. ntrs ; .or in a Manx village, where nhe who chancts to have her birthday on that d-<y mny g» a-seek-ing the *' Bl^rm stone" »■> J-oon as the s-ni has *et and while all are making nieny, wi'h the cprtain'y, if shft fiud it, of meeting him who is tob- h^r future husband on the ro.id back ; or I might (to romp nea-cr home) have described a obtain Cbristmas Dsy on Pi c«im'« Isle a century agone. But I have rejected thtst? and others >n favour of the Chri-tmin D»y where' f my ghost soruetirr.c^ throws the picture upon my wall at night, like th^ writing of Balshazssar. It may p- hit >». m. r*l on en if it fails to adorn a taie.

When we hear tlv be Is b itfce'y chiming, a' d see tin joyous crowds t v rouging the a'lvets, or at night, waimed with wine r.nd goodly f«re, etroll forth to read in the limb's in every window and in thi cch< es of happy laughfer tho *igus of a city <ull, forgetful tor the time of lites heavier fac- tmil it* m»ny wriukli^, who amongst us gives morn thau a pas-ing t' oug'.l for those to wLom Christmas Day i« little more than the mockery of an empty word ? Who thinks of the poor in great litie*, herding in sun-forsaken alleys, to whom Chris- mas briii£S no fresher light, no meai ing, «aye the meaiiing of tie C-o-wn of Thorns that they too, the crucified of " Man's inhumanity to man/ wear about their p«llid brows ? ■^ Chri'tmns Day ! Think of it in the lonely shepherd's huh ou the treat plains, in the convict's cell within the gl- omy shade of ?ilent prison walle, in the *wful solitude of Unlitfcouse towers on wave-swept rocks ; aud thiuk of it ou sbi| sat Bta when tbe sun goes down into 9ie waters and tbe face of God's eternity is aairrored in the restless deep !

Some of my readers may remember Ihe loss of the Jason, burnt in Eastern sess a dozen years ago. One of her seaaien told to me what I now tell to you, and nearly ia the words I give it in.