[DDL-Oracle-users] , stuck in a cracked beer-glass, before a picture

[Brening <log...@de...>]

Ce on the hardwood counter were heard out in the street. More than one
of the passers-by who came within range was taken with an extra shiver
in which the vision of wife and little ones waiting at home for his
coming was snuffed out, as he dropped in to brace up. The lights were
long out when the silent streets reechoed his unsteady steps toward
home, where the Christmas welcome had turned to dread. But in this
twilight hour they burned brightly yet, trying hard to pierce the bitter
cold outside with a ray of warmth and cheer. Where the lamps in the
delicatessen store made a mottled streak of brightness across the flags,
two little boys stood with their noses flattened against the window. The
warmth inside, and the lights, had made little islands of clear space on
the frosty pane, affording glimpses of the wealth within, of the piles
of smoked herring, of golden cheese, of sliced bacon and generous,
fat-bellied hams; of the rows of odd-shaped bottles and jars on the
shelves that held there was no telling what good things, only it was
certain that they must be good from the looks of them. And the heavenly
smell of spices and things that reached the boys through the open door
each time the tinkling bell announced the coming or going of a customer!
Better than all, back there on the top shelf the stacks of square
honey-cakes, with their frosty coats of sugar, tied in