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See the Want Ad Pages for LITTLE STORIES OF BIG OPPORTUNITIES. •Nothing Succeeds Like—THE GEORGIAN' AND NEWS ‘Nothing Succeeds Like—THE GEORGIAN’ In Atlanta: TWO CENTS On Trains. FIVE CENTS PRICE ATLANTA, GA., FRIDAY, DECEMBER .8. 1911. gpftpi kl hl-i'l ; WKSmi wjfij: Cite (Qm$i of the HE Cyme said there was * no C hr is t mas Spirit; that it. had long since; dragged its moth-eaten wings mto_ * the realm of forgotten m ytha. In> its place, said the Cynic, was the Spirit of Custom, the Spirit of Gommercial- *sm, the Spirit of Barter. To prove it, lie set out to search the-fabled baunts of tbe Christmas Spirit, for a glimmer of its raiment or a flutter of its wings. He entered first a borne of tbe Very Rich, where f he holly wreaths in every window, suspended by a superior quality of satin ribbon, seemed to say: “ Wir'tAm is tbe Christmas Spirit. At this joyous season are we privileged to share °f our abundance with those less fortunate. Therefore we rejoice. Now, within the home of the Very Rich tbe Cynic found a table laden with gifts about to be sent off by the butler. There was a costly vase for tbe Titled Cousin; a rare edition for tbe Richest Relative; a choice antique for tbe Valuable Business Ally; an order for twenty-five Christmas dinner baskets, to be delivered by tbe chauffeur; and a Christmas check, of thousands, for tbe Endowed Hospital for Working Girls, with which to meet the increased expenses after the holiday rush that always filled the Hospital with 'the Working Girls employed by the head of thievery house of the Very Rich, and by the Business Ally. The Cynic smiled,with ironic satisfaction. Verily, the Christmas Spirit dwelt not there. So into the seething shops, on Christmas Eve, the Cynic crowded, though fearful that rid was gift-buying, he must surely come upon the foi here, where all tbe forsaken Spirit. . ' : A ■ f '• I ' * '• ’ ■' " '»?■; d •M#-: ; •, v; .< He beheld- jostling, fretful, wild-eyed crowds, stampeding counters of mniscy trinkets, behind which foot-sore, dull-eyed, harassed clerks prayed they would be dead before’another “Merry Christmas." And the Cynic laughed and laughed, until tbs spectacles fell off his long, lean nose. It happened, as he was leaving the shop, that he saw a.woman with a shawl over her head, cryit softly in a corner. He heard her say that she ha 1 lost the dollar with'which she meant, to hoy a doll for Mary and a drum for Peter. Presently he saw another woman, shawl-headed, too, go up to her and crush into her trembling hand a dollar hill. "Sure, an I just picked it up,—it’s that same dollar you were after Iona*! Bless you, don’t he thankin' me for only pickin’ of it up! ” The Cynic knew that it was not the lost dollar hill that the woman had placed in the other's hand, because he had seen her take it from her own lank, worn purse. And seeming to hear the soft rustle of wings, the Cynic followed her out into the street and to the very door of her tiny cottage. Through the window he saw a strange group gathered about a scrawny Christmas tree, sparsely decorated. There was, besides the three children of the belated hostess, the one- legged man who peddled papers in the building where she scrubbed, the lone widdy woman next door, and the child whose mother had been arrested the day before for shop-lifting,— forlorn waifs gathered up in a warm embrace of friendliness. And lo! when the woman he had followed entered the room there entered with her, luminous, the forgotten Christmas Spirit! And he saw that after all it was only the Spirit of Kindnees with a holly wreath around its neck. Now, nobody knows why, hut a tear fell off the long, lean nose of the crabbed old Cynic who stood! outside the cottage there, in the cold. Vi- See the Want Ad Pages for LITTLE STORIES OF BIG OPPORTUNITIES. |