The
crowded city seemed wakening to some keen enjoyment; even his own
weak, deliberate step rang on the icy pavement as if it wished to
rejoice with the rest. I said it was a trading city: so it was,
but the very trade to-day had a jolly Christmas face on; the
surly old banks and pawnbrokers' shops had grown ashamed of their
doings, and shut their doors, and covered their windows
with frosty trees, and cathedrals, and castles; the shops opened
their inmost hearts; some child's angel had touched them, and
they flushed out into a magic splendour of Christmas trees, and
lights, and toys; Santa Claus might have made his head-quarters
in any one of them. As for children, you stumbled over them at
every step, quite weighed down with the heaviness of their joy,
and the money burning their pockets; the acrid old brokers and
pettifoggers, that you met with a chill on other days, had turned
into jolly fathers of families, and lounged laughing along with
half a dozen little hands pulling them into candy-stores or
toy-shops; all of the churches whose rules permitted them to show
their deep rejoicing in a simple way, had covered their cold
stone walls with evergreens, and wreaths of glowing fire-berries:
the child's angel had touched them too, perhaps,--not unwisely.
He passed crowds of thin-clad women looking in through open
doors, with red cheeks and hungry eyes, at red-hot stoves within,
and a placard, "Christmas dinners for the poor, gratis;" out of
every window on the streets came a ruddy light, and a spicy
smell; the very sunset sky had caught the reflection of the
countless Christmas fires, and flamed up to the zenith, blood-red
as cinnabar.
Pages:
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179