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Black Friday Starts Today
Recieve your Walmart-$50-card and get a jump start on your shopping. Just answer-a-short questionaire-and enjoy.

WalmartCard-9511272 - Grab Yours

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The thousandandone young gentlemen in blue neckties, who for atwelvemonth, in frantic strains, varying from basso profundo to pipingtenor, had proclaimed their entire willingness to mourir pour lapatrie, were engrossed at their shops; innumerable fascinatingtrimmers of bonnets, who, like poor little Dora, religiously believedthe chief end of man consisted in dancing continually ta la ra, ta lara, sat busily plying the needle, elbowdeep in ribbons; theconsumptivelooking fluteplayer before the footlights trilled out hisspasmodic trickle of melody, and contemplated with melancholy pleasurethe excited audience; the lank danseuse ogled and smirked at it behindthem, and, with passionate gestures of her thin legs, implored itsapplause; men, women, and , of all grades and degrees, crowdedinto the murky night; for a day was coming when the youths of theneckties would not agree to mourir on any account; when thefluteplayer would cease to be contemplative; when the danseuse wouldforget her attenuated extremities; when the whole world, where the graceof the Redeemer is known, would believe that the chief end of thehour, at least, consisted in dancing continually ta la ra, ta la ra. Shall The Air ring with the joyous notes of the carols, or breathe lowand soft with the sighs of the suffering Shall it burst into mad hilarity at the revelry, or wail with the sharpcries of the poor It was a painted house, but the paint had worn off; it had a garden, butthe garden was choked with weeds; its two rooms were once handsomelyfurnished, but the furniture was now common and old. It was once afashionable street; but fashion had fled before the victorious eagles oftrade. The tenants of that house were once happy and prosperous. Whatare they now The occupant of the back room was a man, and the occupants of the frontroom a woman and her . He was sitting at a rude deal table; before him were scattered somedirty sheets of music, and around him the place was dreary and bare. Bythe light of a tallow dip he was playing, in screeching tones, thecommonest of ditties and polkas by note. His coat was once of therichest; but now it was old and threadbare. His hands were once whiteand elegantly shaped; now they were dirty, and blue with cold. His faceonce beamed with contentment; now it was worn with care and marked bythe hard lines of penury. The other room was darker, and, if possible, more dreary. There were twotrundlebeds in a corner, and four bright beings, oblivious to thediscomfort, in the happy sleep of childhood. There was a mattress inanother corner, with a pile of bedquilts and a sheet. The fire had burned down to a coal. It shone on the mantle with a sicklyglare; and this was the only light there was. To the mantlepiece were pinned four little stockings, each waitingopenmouthed for a gift from Santa Claus. Below them crouched a woman, weeping bitterly. The woman was Clara Hague; and she was weeping because the Christmasdawn would find those little mouths unsatisfied. Our Air is getting mournful, too mournful for this hour of great joy. The Te Deum Laudamus, not the Miserere, is for outbursts of gladnesslike these. Let it sing of the carriage that surprised the man from his fiddle andthe woman from her tears by its thunder in the quiet street. Let it sing of the warmhearted brother, forgetting the bitterness ofthe past, his pockets replenished from a wellsaved hoard, who rushedin, startling the little sleepers with his joyous greeting. Let it chantthe praises of the hampers of wine, and fowls, and dainties, and thebundles of toys, that same lumbering carriage contained. And last, butnot least, let it thrill with the glad shout of a little newsboy, who, frantic with delight, hurried on a new gray suit and a pair of brannewboots, a present received that very day from his then unknown uncle, John Redfield. STORY OF A BEAST.

Beast started out of every bristle on his unkempt head; it shone in theunhealthy gloss of his battered hat; it wallowed on the stock that clungaround his dirty neck; it glistened in the grease on his dingy clothes;it starved on his thin, clawlike hands; it flourished in the grimeimbedded under his nails; it creaked in his wornout, downtroddenshoes. Men, as he shambled by on the streets, unconsciously muttered, Beast women, shrinking from him, whispered, Beast between theheartthrobs the terror of his presence created; , hushing theircries in silent horror at his grimace, stared Beast out of theirwonderstricken eyes. You might bray him in a mortar and boil the powderin a caldron, yet amid all the envy, hatred, and malice that made up theingredients, Beast would have triumphantly floated on the top. BeastBeast Beast Beast The universal verdict clutched him like the shirtof Nessus. He actually grew proud of the title, and received the stigmawith a cluck of beastly joy, as though inspired with a certain beastlyambition to deserve it. The laugh with which he hailed any appeal to hischarity was monstrous. It commenced with a leathery wheeze like the puffof asthmatic bellows; it croaked with a grating chuckle, as if histhroat opened on rusty hinges; and then it broke out in a shrill vocalshudder, that sounded like the shriek of a hyena.