The dawn at Shanty Bay-- . iwixrthe Glozionoirtcri the CDixiC W. >^URELY there is nevertwilight in all the yearlike the twilight ofChristmas Eve. Howominously it creepsupon the world, portent of theapproaching dawn, herald of thethrobbing day that is waiting at thedoor. But in what different fash-ions is it greeted by those to whom itbrings its differing message! Child-hood, rapture-bound, hails it as thehem of the garment in which theMystic Messenger of the night, treas-ure-laden, shall creep to childhoods36 crib; wiser with the years, youthloves it still for the sweet delusion, ex-posed a
The dawn at Shanty Bay-- . iwixrthe Glozionoirtcri the CDixiC W. >^URELY there is nevertwilight in all the yearlike the twilight ofChristmas Eve. Howominously it creepsupon the world, portent of theapproaching dawn, herald of thethrobbing day that is waiting at thedoor. But in what different fash-ions is it greeted by those to whom itbrings its differing message! Child-hood, rapture-bound, hails it as thehem of the garment in which theMystic Messenger of the night, treas-ure-laden, shall creep to childhoods36 crib; wiser with the years, youthloves it still for the sweet delusion, ex-posed and thrilless now, that once in-terwove its spell with the very textureof the dusk ; older still, the broodingparent heart greets it for enchanted[\ \ childhoods sake, or checks the chok-ing sob that rises with the memoryof once eager hearts now foreverstill, the vision of once radiant facesnow wrapped in the long slumber thatno Christmas bells can rouse. Andold age, the tumult nearly past, willhail the Christmas twilight withreverent peace, well pleased that t
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