"O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by."
The twenty-fourth had been a good day for business in Tim Shartow's place.
He had had venison for free lunch; two mandolin and guitar players had been
there all the evening; and there was more than two hundred dollars in the
till. But now, in the quiet of the early morning, as he sat alone, the
reaction had come. He remembered how Rob MacFlynn had had too much, and
gone home maudlin to the wife who had toiled all day at the wash-tub. He
thought of the fight Joe Frier and Tom Stacey had had. And--he did not
drink much himself; he despised a drunkard--and these things disgusted him.
There was little Phil, too,--"the saloon-keeper's boy,"--and that cut deep.
Wouldn't it pay better, in the long run--and then the music floated softly
in.
He did not hear the words at first, but he had a good ear,--it was the
singing that had brought him, as a boy, into the beer-gardens,--and,
stepping to the window, he listened, all unseen by those without. There the
words reached him:--
"How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming,
But in this world of sin
Where meek souls will receive him"--
and until they sang the "Amen," Tim Shartow never stirred from the window.
* * * * *
The storm that had been threatening all day had descended. Without, a
blizzard was raging; but within, beside his study fire, the little ones
tucked away in bed up-stairs, and a book in his hand, the Reverend McKenzie
could laugh at weather. A knock at that hour surprised him; but when he saw
who stood upon the threshold, he knew how the saloon-keeper felt when he
posted his bills so many months before.
"Good evening, Mr. Shartow," he said. "Won't you come in?"
The face of his visitor was tense and haggard; for the struggle had lasted
the day long.
"I've come for help," he answered, shortly. "I guess it's the kind you can
give, all right."
For a moment the pastor searched his face. "God bless you!" he exclaimed.
"Come in, come in."
And so was wrought again, before the close of the day that had been ushered
in by the singing of the carols, the ever new miracle of Christmas; for
God's gift to men had been again accepted, and into another heart made meek
and ready to receive him the dear Christ had entered.--_Frederick Hall, in
Christian Endeavor World._