O
ALLLK'L—L: '-
’-- -
HER CHRISTMAS.
[Copyright 1899. by the Ant-herd
It Was a glorious Christmas morning,
and Miranda stood in the doorway and
watched the sun climbing over the snow
capped mountains.
She had risen early and hurried through
all her duties. Long before her father
was up—fer he was went to sleep later
than usual on high days and holidays—she
had prepared the turkey and pudding and
set them aside, and had been to the dairy
for the cream and butter fer breakfast.
Then she had dressed in her comeliest
gown and come and stood in the doorway.
Miranda, though, was not pretty even
at her best. She was tall, slightly built
and of almost an angular form, with fea-
tures characteristic of the part of the coun—
try in which she lived. Her home was in
the extreme western part of Maryland, in
the Allegheny valleys, or broad plateaus
known as “The Glades. ” . ‘ _
Here she and her father had lived and
farmed since she had been a. child. She
had never known any other section of the
state, and the sparkling, tumbling streams
xwhich dashed past the house on their way
to either the Potomac or the Mississippi
seemed as though theywere part and par-
cel of her.
At one time she had been considered the
sprightliest girl in all “The Glades.” And
there had been women who had envied
and hated her, and men who loved and
courted her, but she had simply judged
men and women alike, with a. smile, a
pleasant word, and passed them by. This
indifference, which both charmed and ex-
asperated at the same time, she had allow-
edto go on until Robert Dodd, a neighbor-
"roU‘nE EXPECTIN noun :T TODAY, AIN’T
YOU?”
in g farmer, who was socially under a cloud,
on the charge of having committed some
small misdemeanor, became a visitor at
her house. Then one evening she had
shown a preference for him over Jim Clay-
ton, and Clayton, noticingit, had unhitch-
ed his horse from the fence before the even-
ing was over and ridden away. The coin-
cident had not CSC.l}l‘.ld her that she had
,provoked one man’s anger .byaddingte.
another man's bliss. Still, of such-things a
girl may not testify, and the next morning
she felt a heavy shock when the cry of
murder rang through the valley and the
guilt was laid at Robert Dodd’s door.
The victim was a stranger, who was sup-
posed to have been passing over the moun-
tains to the western states. Evidently an
altercation of some sort had taken place,
and the result had been fatal. Nothing
further was definitely known. but it had
been prove-d that Robert Dodd had been
the only man who had passed down the
' valley that night, and as society had al~
ready related him his name was pretty
roughly handled by the loosely defined cir-
cles, when: the force of judgment makes up
for the weakness of the law in dealing with
crimes which are difficult of detection and
uncertain of punishment. A word was
prhnoum-ed against him as powerful as the
levitica! curse. He was indicted, tried
and condemned, but afterward, through
the intercession of the governor, was com-
muted to a life sentence in prison.
He had not complained nor asked a hear-
ing in his own defense, for be well know
no bcnclit could be derived thereby, but
from the first Miranda had disputed the
accusation and had fought his cause with
a stubborn persistence. Many a grievous
hour and ma xious night had she spent with-
out fruition to her hopes. Still, she had con-
tinned to work and strive and plot until
finally after ten weary years success had
crowned her efforts. Time had lessened
the vindictiveness of evil tongues, and the
peopld: fearing they had overstepped the
limits of justice. wished to ease their cent
sciences; so had signed a petition for Rob-
ert’s pantie}.
AS'Sii-‘j toyed with the thought that he
would be home that morning Christmas
seemed far have a new significance from
what it had had in the past. The tall
peaks and cliffs hround, which had been
snow cox-mmd during the night, stood in
brokenootlincs against the grayish haze,
while a star. as though it were the star of
Bethlehem, seemed to float far away and
dissdve into a ruddy glow whichvslowly
formed the sphere of rising ‘sun. Then the,
icicles hanging from trees and bushes glis-
tencd. like thousands of jewels studding
the scene. like some great crown offered for
the salvation of mankind. Christmas!
She coull almost see the Christ Child ly—
ing in his manger. where he'was found
that morning ccnturiesago. lt'had never
been so clear to her before or the benefi-
connc of the season so full of beauty.
What a day of all days for Robert’s re-
turn! »
Seeing some one in the distance, she
\vzilwd with an eagerness akin to restless-
ness. Then as he came nearer she recog-
nized Jim Clayton.
“Good mornin.
he’s‘aid. ' "
He was a lean, lank individual, and
nature seemed to begrudge him the few
pounds of ilesh he had,- for they hung on
him in wrinkles, as though they had shriv-
eled before they had grown. He came and
leaned against the doorpest, whittling a
Stick.
‘ You’re expectin Robert today, ain’t
you?" .
Miranda glanced at him with something
of score in her expression. .
! “Yes, I’m expectin Robert,” she an-
- s'wered. “And you know very well, Jim
Clayton, if it had not been for you he
wbuld never have been condemned for
something he didn’t do. ” .
Clayton laughed. His small eyes rested
on. her hungrily.
“Well,” he said presently, “it’s taught
him a lesson anyway, and it’s taught you
one too. ' You won’t be so trifiin with
men's affections hereafter as you’ve been
with mine. ”
“I never trified with yours. ”
“You didn‘t, chit~ Then, when. are you
solute marry moi” '
A merry Christmas, "
a
i
WEEnnv
She did not answer, and he continued:
“Remember, Miss Miranda, beans ain't
as plentiful with you new as they used to
be. You'llhave to take what you can get. ”
“I won’t take you anyway. I’d rather
live and die single. So there!”
As he looked up at her, standing on the
step above him. he devoured her words. and
they fed his purpose as grist feeds a mill.
Thenpclosing his knife with a click, he
put it in his pocket and started to go.
back over his shoulder:
”Goodby. I just dropped round to see
how things were goin. I’m sorry you’re
expectin Robert. You might be disap-
pointed, ”
Miranda smiled as she turned back into
the house for breakfast. Her father had
come down stairs, so they sat down togeth-
er. She talked freely, for she was think-
ing much and rapidly. Robert would be
there soon now, she knew, and she wanted
to have things bright and cheery when he
came—something to remind him that it
was Christmas.
But as noon came and he had not arrived
her spirits began to flag. She served the
turkey and pudding for dinner without
eating herself. .
“Where’s your appetite?” asked her fa-
ther. .
“I feel as if I’d just had breakfast.”
“Land sakes, it’s been eight hours or
more! You must be a little worried over
Robert. ” He was an easy going man, and
trouble set lightly on his shoulders. ,
“I am, father. I wonder why he doesn’t
come?”
“Oh, he’ll be here presently. There’s
another train in about 6 o’clock. ”
Still she felt restless and soon began to
Watch for the last train of the B. and O.
railroad over the mountains. It passed, but
Robert did not get 011'.
What had Jim Clayton meant?
fire and began to smoke.
“Robert’s late,” he ventured.
But Miranda. said nothing. All the
thoughts that she had had during the day
had left her.
She went to the door and looked out.
The sky was a leaden gray, and the moon
came over the peaks and cliffs.
She stepped out and went quickly down
the valley. A wind had risen, and as she
had on neither hat nor coat her thin figure
swayed against the keen whips of cold.
Everything along the blufi‘s looked gigan-
tic in the gloom, which seemed to widen
and lengthen as she went on. The rows of
summer cottages at Oakland and Deer
Park—fashiena ble mountain resorts—were
all shut and deserted, and the great snow
bound hills on each side offered nothing
but blank silence.
“Robert!” she called. “Robert!”
A little farther on she saw something
lying still and black against the snow.
Her pulse quickened. Was it Robert? Ap-
proaching, she found it was Jim Clayton.
“What’s the matter, Jim?” she asked,
bending over him.
His pale face gazed up at her through
the moonlight. .
“I’ve been waitin and watchin all day
up .yonder on the mountains,” he said in
a weak voice. “But I couldn’t see well at
night, so I slipped and fell. Is—is Robert
come yet?”
“No. Have you seen him?”
Miranda waited breathlessly. It seemed
to her a 1mg time before Jim spoke.
he said in low, wavering tones:
“I reckon I’m about done for, so I might
as well make a clean breast of it. I was
waitin for Robert. I never meant to let
him go home. "
“What do you mean?” she asked, bend~
ing closer to catch his words. She could
not realize the situation and stood as if
rooted to the spot. A
“I've always had a bad temper, andI
meant to kill Robert, just as I killed that
man ten years ago and then threw the
blame on Robert. He wouldn’t let me
pass, and—and so I did it. My mind
hasn’t ever been easy since. But, now that
I’m about to go, I’ll try and even up
things. Robert’s been pardoned, and—-
and you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
He reached out and laid his hand over
hers in a tremulous way.
“ Goodby, ” he faltered.
you’ll forgive me. "
Then he died, lying there on the snow.
Miranda unloosed her hand and hurried
back toward home again.
It did not take her many minutes to
reach there, and as she burst in at the
door Robert, who had come up the other
side of the valley, came forward to meet
her.
“Miranda!” he said, reaching out both
arms.
She put up hers and clasped them around
his neck. She did not speak, for events.
had crowded down upon her so suddenly
that she could not give vent to words.
But after awhile she drew away and looked
at him.
He had changed certainly. His shoul-
ders were stooped, his hair was sprinkled
:Eii‘i'i'i -"'-" “fur-£2;
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“I hope—I hope
l A
“WHAT no YOU MEAN?” SHE ASKED.
with gray, and about his eyes and month
were furrows, prophetic of a hard life and
intense feeling rather than of age.
Could she forgive Jim Clayton?
As she told the story of how she had
found him down in “The Glades” and of
all that he had said, both Robert and her
father listened attentively.
“We must go to him,” said her father.
“Yes,” added Robert; “and the little
that We can do for him must be done now
-—at once. ”
There was no malice or unkind feeling
of any sort in his voice, and! she wondered
how he who had been wronged so deeply
could forgive so easily. He seemed to
know htho sympathize in a way that but
f2; - us do, and which, when we lack, is
o 7' light us by the trials and ordeals
throng which we ourselves pass. It was
something that she had never before seen
in anybody, and it brought back to her
with full meaning the thoughts that she
had had that morning of Christmas.
As they went out she knelt and prayed
to the great and glorious “Saviour that she
might be worthy to be Robert Dodd’s wife.
Then she prayed for the soul of the man
' who had caused her all her sorrow.
FRANCES S. ans
After he had got a few feet away‘he'called '
Her father sat down before the big log I
Then ,
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- [Rag/1‘) E
HOW IT WAS OBSERVED BY COLORED
TROOPS.
The Ole Bull of the Accordibn—A Sable
Nightingale—Christmas Gifts—A Happy
Lot of Children of a Larger Growth.
I enlisted after graduation at Yale in the
Twentieth Connecticut regiment and was
commissioned first lieutenant of Company
F. Our service during 1862 and 1863 was
with the Army of the Potomac until after
the battle of Gettysburg, in which we par-
ticipated, when the Twelfth corps, under
the command of General Hooker, “Fight-
ing Joe,” was sent west to farm a part of
General Sherman’s army. About this time
the government was recruiting regiments
of colored troops, a measure I approved.
AWAY THE TIMI". lN SINGING
AND DANCING.
because I thought the negroes should fight
for their own freedom and the elevation of
their own race, and because, in other
words, as was said at the time, a negro
would stop a bullet as effectively as a white
man. I believed, too, that properly ofliolr-
ed and led the negroes would fight well, a
belief that was confirmed by experience.
I saw four Christmases while in the
army, for I was not mustered out until
1866—two with my old regiment, the
Twentieth Connecticut, and one, that of
1865, while on detached service as the judge
advocate of a general court martial. The
Christmas which especially impressed it-
self upon me, however, was that of 1864,
which I spent with my new regiment, the
Forty-fourth, U. S. C. T. ’ This regiment
We“: 1'9"".‘slit0'3 from among the planta—
tion v---z:"')e= rucently slaves of northern
Georgi -‘- “Nana and Tennessee, with a
small spz.;-i;iing from Mississippi. Dec.
25, 1864, was my first Christmas as a field
ofiicer, and with the colored troops—and
with all of them—it was their first Christ—
mas as soldiers and with many of them
their first holiday as free men.
When Hood made his backward swing
from Atlanta toward Nashville, while
THEY WlllLEl)
Sherman swung off on his famous march
to the sea, the Forty-fourth was among the
regiments left behind under Thomas to
prevent the imperious Hood from reach-
ing the Ohio. We were not with Schofield
at... Franklin, one of the fiercest engage
ments of the war. We did succeed in get-
ting into Nashville in time to take part in
the utter rent and dispersion of Hood’s
army on Dec. 15 and 16, though in getting
there our train ran into a cul-de-sac lined
with Confederate batteries, and we were
only, saved from annihilation by the celer-
ity with which we got off the train and
got behind cover. That night, guided by
some of our Tennessee negroes who knew
the bypaths, we eluded the Confederate
pickets and get into the Union lines.
After the fight we were sent to Chatta-
nooga and went into winter quarters. Our
men lived in huts, rude, but comfortable.
In fact, most of them were better housedi
better clothed and better fed than they had
ever been, and,while subject to the restraint
of military discipline, enjoyed more real
frwdom than they had ever before known.‘
As Christmas drew nigh the colored troops
showed anxiety to celebrate it appropriate-
ly. On all well conducted plantations in
the south before the war the holiday season
was always a-time for enjoyment and feast-
ing with the blacks as well as the whites.
The bonds of slavery were temporarily re-
laxed, and all went in for a .good time.
The white troops were receiving from their
friends at home reminders that they were
mail and boxes by train laden with food,
drink and, clothing of a kind not provided
by Uncle Sam’s commissaryor qiiarter~
not forgotten in the shape of packages by.
master. But our colored soldiers had no
friends at home to send them these tokens
of love and remembrance. Their friends,
when not still in bondage, were poor, and
homes were yet'a thing of the future. But
the men had their pay, and sutlers were as
numerous as their prices were high. The
officers of the regiment, both field and line,
helped out the festivities of the black men
in blue both by contributions and by teach-
ing them how and what to buy. The re-
sult was that so far as creature comforts
were concerned the men of the Forty-
fourth, colored, fared remarkably well on
theirfirst Christmas of freedom and as sol-
diers.
The negro, like the Chinese and Japa-
nese, is imitative; but, unlike them, he is
musical, A s a. race the negro possesses a
positive genius for music both vocal and
instrumental. The men of the Forty-
fourth Colored were not at all behind in
this regard. We had a number of string
bands among the men. In .fact, every
company had one or more. They had
some very good performers among them,
some of those on the fiddle and banjo be-
ing remarkably good. They played, of
course, by ear, knowing nothing of writ-
ten music. There was one negro who
played the accordion with marvelous skill.
He was from Mississippi and had acquired
this accomplishment at New Orleans,
where his old master spent his Winters,
this man having accompanied the planter
as his body servant. The man had brought
with him the instrument his master had
bought him. lnder his manipulation the
peculiar whining tone of the accordion
as ordinarily played was lost.
Then, there were any number of good
singers. One big fellow, the blackest man,
I think, I ever saw, had a tenor voice that
would have made the fame and fortune of
a white man. It was clear and powerful
and as sweet as a chime of silver bells.
In ordinary conversation he spoke in dia-
l lcct, yet in singing his pronunciation was
correct, while his enunciatien was perfect-
ly distinct. He sang all the old favorite
ballads of antebellum days and the war
songs of the time. His favorite song,
though, was one of his own composition.
It was all about mocking birds and night-
ingales, orange groves and cotton fields,
running brooks and waveless bayous,
trackless forests and hunted animals. The
language was crude, yet endowed with the
spirit of poetry, and when he sang it in
that rich voice to a strange air full of
pathos and sentiment it always seemed to
me somehow that the black singer was
inspired by a dim recollection of his an-
cestral home in some vast African forest
and on the bank of some great stream.
This man Was the leader of a band of
choral singers formed by one of our lieu-
tenants, who had a musical turn, to sing
Christmas and war songs. And how they
did sing them! Christmas eve was passed
in this way. Sweet and touching were the
Christmas carols they sang, but they were
at their best when they gave musical voice
to the fact that “John Brown’s soul goes
marching on. ” This they sang as though
inspired,and when a thousand voices joined
iii the chorus, filling the frosty air with a
great sound of chanting, the effect was one
I‘ll never forget. This singing and the
music were the most characteristic features
of our Christmas festivities, the one in
which we all participated as performer or
listener, and the one which afforded the
most universal pleasure and delight. Thus
all of Christmas eve was passed. Christ-
mas morning my striker, a boy about 18
or 19, black, careless, shrewd, impudent
and faithful, woke nzo up by crying:
“Crismus gif‘, majah; Crismus gif’,
sah. I‘ze de fus’. Wot ye gwine to gib me
—a drink?” .
He dodged a boot and got his drink.
Thus my first Christmas with the colored
troops began. We of course had our indisJ
lity and merriment. Of course the chief
interest of the day, especially with the cel-
ored men, centered in the dinner table. It
is sufficient to say that they got the est
dinner-they had ever had. After that they
whiled away the time in singing and danc-
ing, swapping stories of their old life in
slavery, new ended for them and soon to
be for all wherever the stars and stripes
floated; ran races and engaged in such
games as their plantation life had made
them familiar with and generally were
boisterously merry, filling the air with
their shouts of glee and unctuous negro
laughter. They were a tired and happy lot
of big, black, overgrown children when
taps, “lights out,” sounded that night and
ended a day that to many of them no doubt
seemedto set for the first time the seal of
reality on vthat wonderful possession, per-
sonal ownership. Tues. B. KIRBY.
pens? ‘0 ail? u-v duties to perform, and .
we a - . r 3 ’mcut in hollow square
on, race gr. . ' to listen to divine
sci-v. '. Then thx: lay was girl-.1 up to jol—
Z '1‘ E 'I‘ E. .
“rm-trash“...
‘ CHRISTMASANA.
JUNIUS HENRI BROWNE’S PHILO-
SOPHIC REFLECTIONS.
A Day That Is Not Only Revered by All
Creedsmen, but by nationalists and Even
by Infldels—Originally a Pagan Festival,
\
Now a UniVersal Holiday.
[Copyright, 1896. by the Author.]
‘ Although Christmas is
now universally regarded as
the anniversary of the birth
of J csus Christ, ”although
during the fourth century a
rigorous examination was
made by the theologians of
the cast and west as to the
exact time of his nativity
and Doc. 25 finally agreed
upon, it seems almost cer-
tain that that is not the day.
As that is the some of the
rainy season in J udaca, it is
not in the least likely that
shepherds would then be
watching their flocks on the
plains at night, when, as is recorded, they
saw the star of Bethlehem rise in the east
to guide them to the sacred manger. Some
of the earlier churches celebrated the di-
vine event in January, some in May, oth-
ers in June, and any one of these periods
would have been more probable than is
December. "
The time of fixing the re-
ligious festival was not
chosen, however, without
"" ample cause. Like most of
g” the Christian holidays, it is
,. 3). primarily due to pagan 'pre-
WP‘B cedent. Nearly all the pa-
. I gan peoples considered the
a winter solstice, Dec. 21, as
a momentous point of the
year. Then nature began the renewal of
her active powers, and the gods, who were
originally but the celestial personifications
of those, were supposed to revive their care
of and interest in man. Consequently
those peoples marked the period with fes-
tivities and celebrations of many sorts.
And when Christianity arose the old heath-
en spirit was transferred to evangelical
agencies and” reproduced in evangelical
rites.
The ancient Germans held
their great Yule feast at the
winter solstice (Yule is still
. a synonym of Christmas)
I _ to solemnize the return of
the_fiery sun wheel-the sun
, is styled in the Edda the
shining whoel——as a part of
their nature worship. This
worship survived in Europe until 50 or 60
years ago. The inhabitants of some of the
villages on the Moselle were long in the
habit on St. John’s eve of carrying a big
wheel wrapped in straw to the top of a.
hill, firing the straw and rolling it down.
If it reached the river still ablaze, they re-
garded it as a good omen, evidence of a
fine vintage. The greenery with which we
still ornament our_ homes and churches at
this season and the gifts we hang on
Christmas trees are probably relics of the
symbols with 'whig‘h our rude ancestors ex- '
pressed their faith in the power of the re-
turning sun to clothe the earth with green-
ness and .to produce new crops of fruit.
And the frumenty (made of hulled wheat,
boiled in milk and seasoned), still eaten in
parts of Great Britain, and in some of our
southern states, at Christmas time, would
seem to be a. tradition of the offerings paid
to Hulda or Bertha, the embodiment of
fertility in the Teutonic mythology, to
whom the Germans looked for fresh sup-
plies of grain.
Many of the beliefs and
usages of the ancient Ger-
mans as well as of the an-
cient Romans concerning
,grthe Christmas-period, be-
tween Dec. 25 and Jan. 6,
in which those peoples
interference of their deities
in behalf of mortals, survive to a great
degree, with new interpretations, to the
present time, and exercise no little‘infiu-
once. We think paganism was extinct
ages since, and so it was in form; but its
animus continually crops out in our creeds.
our opinions, our modes of thought, in all
our conduct. We are as men much the
same now that we were in Egypt, J udzea,
Greece and Rome. The kernel of human
nature is ever the same.
Inasmuch as Christmas,
whether the date be. correct
or incorrect, stands for the
birth of Jesus, everybody
must revere the day, because
everybody reveres him. A
great many men who do
not at all believe in his di-
vinity believe in his tran-
l scendent goodness, his love
f of humanity, his spirit of
self sacrifice. They do not
' think that his being the
Son of God would add to
his merit, but would rather
detract from it, because his
Godship would remove him
from the plane of hum unity and from hu-
man sympathies. They prefer to regard
him as only a man, but the very best, the
noblest, the grandest of his race. All
creeds, all schools, all philosophies honor
him to the fullest. 'Even the Jews, who
are charged with putting him to death
and hating his memory, sincerely respect
him, though they do not allow the super-
natural claims made for him. It was only
one of their sects, the Pharisees, who clam-
ored for his execution. The body of the
chosen people hold themselves guiltless of
his blood._ The educated Brahmanists,
Buddhists, Mohammedans, Shintoists,
Parsees, place Jesus in the front rank of
mortals The savagest iconoclast, the rank-
est infidel, always speaks of him with ad-
miration. Of God there is no end of opin-
ions; of Jesus, morally, humanly, there is
but one. -
Christmas is scarcely
thought of new by the mul-
titude as other than a day
’ of recreation and pleasure.
.. From the earliest times it
‘3 was devoted to merrymak-,
ing, with which its religious
. l' . observation was never als
% lowed to interfere. It is the
first and most jcgmus of all
holidays, especially to childrnn. hose fes-
tival it is often called. Hardly an Ameri-
can any more than a. German child but has
delightful associations with Dec. 25, the
very poorest in this country receiving pres-
ents from their parents and every oppor—
tunity and encouragement for joyousness.
Unfortunate indeed is the child who has
not remembrances of a happy Christmas.
We all feel that childhood can never return, '
and that it is our duty to contribute-what-
ever we can to make it bright and pleasant.
.0 -.-._..--v—.——_.__..__.___— ..__ A _ ._._‘_.
‘ thought theycould trace the ,
hristmas isrcally blessed iii what it' 1
'means and brings, whatever their circum~i
stances, to the World of children. i
Dec. 2‘3 naturally sug-
gests, being accepted as the;
tion. about which the them
logic no less than the new;
. theologic‘ differ so widely.§
There is probably no other subject allooutl
which thoughtful, cultured people morei
radically disagree. The vulgar notion that;
they who reject the orthodox doctrine are ~
materialists, atheists, persons destitute of i
all faith, is an egregious error. Atheist is!
literally far more a word than a thing. I
What it is supposed to represent can sear-06.5
ly be found in the flesh, freely as the term‘
is used by the orthodox toward those held-
ing adverse views. Rationalists refuse to;
accept authority or dogma and wholly re?
nounce supernaturalism. They have, how—i
ever, discrepant views of the same topicsg
often, but always eschew what they calli
superstition. Death they consider natural
as life, as not substantially varying there—'
from, as bringing neither reward nor pun-E
ishment specifically, but merely a fulfill-
ment of the cosmic relations.
Some rationalists hold
that all life ends with death; {
others that it continues in-:
definitely, though without
The larger part of the World!
I believes that man dies num-T
, berless times, each time hen ,
ing newly incarnated, so that lifefjs butn'.
series of births and deaths through age‘sz'a‘
Plato definitively believed and taught this", if
and many philosophers before and sincbf, ,.'_
Jesus, the idea of resumes! .
\-
maintaining that with each rebirth the?
soul, which is indestructible, advaricés;
and ameliorates. , -
J UNIUS HEXRI BROWNE. '
A. Long Trip. .
From the far northwest of this country.
to Norway, Sweden and Denmark seems a
great way to go to spend the Christmas
holidays, and yet thousands of Scandina-
vians do it every year. They go to New-
York city in trainloads during the latter'
part of November and the first part of De?-
cember, the jolliest, happiest, most con—
tented emigrants that leave this country.
The trip across the continent is short-
ened by good nature and a recounting of
experiences, for they are a simple folk and
readily make friends and exchange confi-
dences. They are a homo loving people,
and after being here for a few years and
accumulating a little money they almost
invariably return to Scandinavia to visit
and to tell of their successes here.
Those who have gone home to visit this
fall are generally men in the prime of life-
who have established interests here, and-
who will, return in the spring, after two
or three months of enjoyment and wonder
telling among their relatives and friends.
All these emigrants carry much ready
money, with which they are liberal to a
fault. That which they have is entirely
due to their own energy. They are pro-
ducers of the most valuable kind. They
come here with the idea of becoming citi-
zens and landowners, and although they
retain their affection for the old home and
the old life they never forget or belittle-
the advantages that they have received
here or the allegiance that they have prom-
ised to their adopted country. A large
percentage of those who are now visiting
at their birthplaces will bring wives back
with them. .
Changing Fortunes.
At Christmas time last year
So many friends that now are gene were here.
So many hopes were glowing then unspoken:
So many faiths were strong that new lie
. broken
And loving hearts that trusted without fear
At Christmas time last year.
At Christmas time this year
So many of us find the world a drear
And barren desert wherein blooms no rose,
With mountain peaks surrounding it whose
snows
Have chilled our hearts and turned life's foli‘
age sear—
At Christmas time this year.
At Christmas time next year,
Who knows what changing fortunes may be
near?
Take courage, then our night shall turn to
day.
From bright'niug skies the clouds must roll.
away,
And faith and love and hope shall all be here .
At Christmas time next year.
—Kate Sherlock.
Can’t Go Home For Christmas.
N o drearier mortal can be imagined than
the man who cannot go home from college
for Christmas. He hangs around the (is.
sorted buildings with a most forlorn air, or
hovers over his study fire, if he has astudy
fire, in a vain attempt to get warmth. Or
perhaps he takes a different tack and
thinks to find Christmas cheer in a lark all
by himself. Alas! the spirit of Christmas
is essentially communistic; to be thorough.
ly enjoyed, it must be shared. No theater
can appease the loneliness of the solitary
one, and the only solace he finds is in sleep,
where he can forget that he is a man who
cannot go home for Christmas.
Christmas Goose.
In England goose is more often the
Christmas bird than turkey. To those
who think of substituting a goose for a
turkey the caution is given that the for-
mer, though it may present an ample and
tempting appearance as it is brought to
the table, crisp and aromatic, will serve
by no means generously, as only the-breast
is available. Under the modern treat-
ment of removing the tough leg tendons,
thus gaining all the drumstick meat, there
is no edible bird to compare in economy
,iWith the turkey.
A Simple Good Will.
There is a married couple in Washington
with their own peculiar method of cele-
brating such occasions. As the New Year
dawns the wife will show you a 810 gold-
piece and announce, “This was Charlie’s
ghristmas present to me.” The husband
will show you a SiOgeldpiece and ’say,:
“This was Annie’s Christmas present to
me. ” They always give that and always.
have given it. They lay the coins away.
and merely exchange them year after year.
Saved.
Wilkins—Miss Oldfryte sat directly be-
neath the mistletoe on the chandelier, but
Providence saved me.
Bilkins—Providence?
Wilkins—Yes; Providence dropped the
chandelier.
, At Christmas. .
Without, the frost winged breezes blow
Across the weld, above, below,
And the-rose in every cheek is stirred ‘
With the downy kiss of each snowflake bird.
Within, the cheerful Yulelog fire
Brims with music’s high desire.
Sheds light and cheer below, above.
Bespoaking the wamth of homely love. . ,
‘ . _ , . —Baltimora Tolggram. -'
l
Norwalk Chronicler