Newspaper Page Text
lIS 'Mf Ml- ffi if-
' ' ' f
ni i ii vii i
The Christmas Bells.
Oh, hear the sweet bells as they ring,
And welcome the glorious morn
The day when our Saviour and King,
The Messed Messiah, was born !
Behold in the zenith his star I
Cow it brightens the heavens, above I
And princes perceive from afar,
And come with their treasures of love. ..
Then join every voioe in the song,
The sweet bells of Christmas awake ;
Come join in the Jubilant throng, . J
Tho journey to Bethlehem take.
Bring gold, for a monarch is bora,
In David and Solomon's lino ;
Bring myrrh, for the sorrow and scorn,
Bring inoense, for he is divine I
Ho comes and the shadows depart
From all the. dark regions around ; ,
JT ! comes, and rejoicing, each heart
With songs, with salvation resounds t
K longer in doubt and distress
Poor wayfarers s'.and on the shore,
Now Jeus is waiting to bless,
And load the.n tlio c!ark river o'er.
Bring incense of worship, bring gold,
All gifts at his feet shall wo lay ;
The Saviour by prophets foretold,
Jehovah is with ns to-day.
A MINE OF RUBIES.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
A thin mantle of enow covered the
earth like a tattered garment, making
the landscape seem unfinished and un
Arnold Wait regarded the picture of
desolation from his car window, half
regretting that Duty insisted upon his
coins' ud into the country to spend
Christmas with his Aunt Ennis, who
was as disagreeable as Duty herself,
while Pleasure beckoned him over to
his fa7orite Aunt Helen's house in the
His Aunt Ennis had sent invitations
to her three nephews for Christmas
dav. ana while two of the young men
had sent retrrets. Arnold, who had a
soft heart, could not say her nay, for
she was as lonelv as if she had been tho
most unlovable woman in Christendom
tirobablv more so, for she was 6o
poor no one ever thought of tolerating
her crossness, or ol calling it eccen
Arnold was a puzzle to his friends
to those who knew him best most of all.
Gentle and deferential to ladies always,
passionately fond of children, and,
though scarcely over twenty-five, on the
high road to business success, no one
lrnnw of his ever appearing to be in
love, or of offering his hand in mar
A devoted brother to his one married
sister ho proved, and his Aunt Helen
was as fond of him as of her own sons.
Whv don't vou get married, Ar
nold ?" was a question that met him at
almost every turn.
"I am looking for a wife," he would
almost earnestly; "but I must
find bar in mv own way."
He went out in society a great deal,
but ho seemed as fond of the wall-
the belles. He spent his
nummer vacations in traveling ; he sub
scribed to all the society papers; he
was acquainted with the brightest and
most fashionable young ladies far and
near jet he never appeared to fall in
"TT&r Arnold ever had a disappoint
ment?" questioned an old laayof his
Annt Helen, one day.
(Wavo -rn-n ma."?- be sure, or he
i mil a V Ronred in some way. Besides,
I have known Arnold intimately every
year Df his life, except, perhaps, his
last in ftnlWe. when I was in Europe,
lint it ho, fallen in love that year.
he would never have graduated as he
did!" - .
Hn it wa settled, and Arnold wen
hia vav. a wonder among men.
This afternoon, while his eyes looked
out upon the wintry scene, his heart
looked back over many years or what
seemed many years to him. He saw in
a oorner of a half warmed, half lighted
church, a young girl seated upon a pile
of cedar-boughs, weaving wreaths of
cedar and hemlock and holly, her eyes
drooping half over her work, and half
because his own sought them so earn
Her cheeks were flushed, too, not
altogether from walking in the wind.
and her white hands, binding the
boncb.8 together, moved unsteadily.
He lingered over this picture lov
inrlv ; never since had he seen a face
- O J I
"To-morrow." she Raid (for he went
on w ith the old memory), "papa is com
inor for me after all, I hall not 6ee the
decorations here at Christmas time
He remembered it all so well, even to
the sorrowful lifting of the rare brown
"To-morrow, Ada P he echoed, in re
gretfni surprise, "if you go to-morrow,
wbn Hh all we ever meet again?
"I don't know," she said, bending
her head over her work still lower, until
he could sea little but the crown of soft
brown hair which was brushed back
into a heavy braid that swept the boughs
heside her. And then, in explanation
of the whole, she draw from her pocket
a 1 Attar, ft d nlaced it in his hands.
Tt v fmm herftuer. and he read
it. the angry blood mounting to his face,
and he was slow to anger, too. It was a
harsh letter, saying her aunt, with whom
Kb wa atavinar. had written word that
Ada had forgotten herself, and givenher
promise to wed one of the students,
although she knew he had other plans
tt i nnminv (nr her at once, and.
" j . , - .
a a tViora wan no reason for delay, sne
must prepare to wed her Cousin Carl the
coming liaster tide.
fa vnnr cousin uarlv or old?" Arnold
Voi1. &a nuietlv as possible.
'No ; he i young, he is handsome, he
is kind but, ah, J. do notiove mm, anu
I never will
"Bat you will be obliged to marry
She looked up into his face a fright
"There is but one remedy," he an
swered, stooping low as he spoke, that
no on a in the church might hear. "Mar-
t tqa to-night, and you are free from
him and safe with me.
"he shrank from him, catching her
treth quickly, and then looking back
into his face, alarm upon hers.
"If you love me, Ada," he said, "you
trill taarry me to-night, here."
It was growing late : the ladies who
had bnen busy in braiding festoons and
. .3 l ; - ... .1 -
uiauus wbib Doguimug, wim weir es
corts, to disperse. The young rector,
who was Arnold's friend, and als an
especial favorite with Ada's aunt, now
approached the pair - ho was to accom
pany Ada home. Arnold briefly, but
passionately, told him his story. The
rector. Mr. ward, was eloquent and
devout, a favorite with the congrega-
tion, but sometimes, people said, acting
upon tod sndden impulses. He heard
the story arwi, his . own heart jsore from
parting with the loved woman he loved
oecause ner father interfered;-he said?
'I will marry you it u the only
thing you can do." ,
Ada hesitated, afraid to take the step,
and Arnold tried his powers of persua
sion, while the rector went to epsak to the
old sexton, an iron gray man, who never
spoke to any one, except when addres
sed. One by one, the people were go
ing, and at last only the rector, the
sexton, Arnold and Ada were left.
"I will marry you, Ada said, at
length, 'if you will alio me to go home
with Mr. Ward as though nothing had
happened. Dj no1, attempt to claim me
until after you h.ve graduated, and
upon my part, I will not tell my father
until you come, except I fin I it neces
sary to keep me irom a second marriage.
I will write and tell you whither I go, so
you may know where I am always, and
then I will wait for you
To this he consented Mf. Ward
thought it wi3est, too and they were
married, the sexton giving the now pale
and anxious bndo away, the ring being
an old-iashioned circlet man naa oeen
Arnold's mother's, and was set with two
rubies and a pearl.
The ceremony over, Arnold had dus a
moment in which to embrace his trem
bling bride, kiss har .cold lips, and
whisper reassuring words into her ear,
when there was a rap at the church door.
Ada s aunt had become alarmed at her
absence, the fear of that "dreadful stu
dent" being in her mind, and had come
to see her safely home.
At the sound Ada slipped, fainting,
from Arnold's arms, and Mr. Ward sent
the sexton for restoratives and to open
the door, while he dragged the unwil
ling Arnold into the street, bidding him
cro home and be a man, or ne wouia
spoil all. k
This did not prevent him from prowl
ing about and returning from "the dra
pon g." as ht termed the residence ol
Ada's relative, ia the carriage with Mr,
Ward, who assured him that Adit, had
recovered, but was so pale as to excite
the sympathy of her father, who arrived
during hi.-j sister's ab3cence ; and all
thing considered, it was not probable
that he wjuM take her away next day.
S y Arnold went to hu loigings, rose
and attended his classes the following
day, gatting through them he scarcely
knew how, for h9 received a message
from Mr. Ward at noon, saying Mr.
Haven had taken Ada away in an early
That was nearly five years ago, and
Arnold had not heard one word from her
since that eventful night. He searched
for her. -auietly. always; he never
doubted her faithfulness and truth.
Mr. Ward had since lost favor with
his consrroaration. and gone across the
Continent : even Ada's aunt had disap
peared there was no dew to his lost
wife remaining. He was growing tired
of waiting, and never wa3 he so weary
of it as on this winter afternoon.
The conductor now came to collect his
ticket : the next station was his last. He
looked up and saw the sunset sky was
blood-red and glowing it had touched
with a rosv brightness the threadbare
patches of snow.
. . ... -
The tram was curving slowly round
one hill before it began the ascent of
another, and presently there came in
view a pretty, modern country-house in
grav, touched up with red, its windows
shinincr in the red lizht like a mine or
Arnold snatched up satchel and
umbrella, and went out upon the plat
form for a lingering look at the house,
which, pert looking as possible, was
perenad at tne toot ot tne nui. as me
train still carved, he was rewarded witn
anothor glimpse of the house, the end
of it being now ia sight, and a lighted
lamp within showed an invalid s easy
chair, a geranium gay with flowers, and,
lastly, a young girl watching the train.
One guuee, and then ha lsoked with
heart and eyes, for-airily this world
could never hold two such faces.
He descended one of the platform
steps, and leaned farther over to make
assurance surer still : and then a sudden
jolting of the car, together with the ex
citement of t(he moment, caused him to
lose his hold, and he fell headlong
down the embankment, and on" down
the hillside, striking branches o trees.
nrniectincr rocks and frozen ground ai
temately but failing to grasp anything
to stav his fall, until it was arrested by
the very gate posts near the door of the
house he had been watching.
The crirl rushed out. She had seen
it all, but failed to recognize in the
taller form nd heavily mustached lip
her lover-husband, of five years ago.
' "Is it possible you are not killed V
ana ftslrAfl. with more nervousness than
flisinretion. as she knelt by his side.
" I don't know." he said, stunned
and dazed and benumbed by a hun
dred bruises. "I only know" making
an effort to filasT her hands "I have
found you at last, Ada, my wile.
Th finish a knew him, and as, with a
nl Audi nor fflance. he looked into her
fanA. rhiah trraduallv changed to un
consciousness, she bent over and kissed
Ah what a strange marriage and
what an unfortunate lotl" she cried.
TTa lAavea me in a dead faint a mo-
mAni after marriage, and five years
later comes fainting back to me I My
good Ursula, do not tell me he is
dead l" to the middle aged woman who
now same and also knelt by Arnold's
"He is not deadl'. Trust me. Mise
Ada," the woman replied. "But let us
get him into your father's chair, and
Bend for Doctor James."
Bo when Arnold came to his wits at
last he was lying in tho very invalid
chair he had watched from the car. The
geranium, with its red flowers, stood at
his feet, and beside him, applying
restoratives, and: chattering over him
like a mother would to her infant, was
the girl wife he had sought so long,
who received bin as though she had
believed in him all these yearsnust as
he had trusted her. And then the doc
tor oame and she was sent away, and an
hour later she was called back to hear
the result of his injuries.
'Nothing serious, I assure you," tne
doctor said " There is only a sprained
ankle, a fractured wrist, a bruised
shoulder, a skinndd and battered knee,
anrl n. fAV ot.har ftllffbt OOniU&lons uvia
.... j i
and fhfvrA. Mere trifles. Miss Haven, 1
AfunrA you " seeing her horn fie 1 face.
"It is a very unfortunate occurrence,
mistaking her look, and speasmg m
load aside, "but it won't be tfeoessary
to have him upon your hands ior mors
. i . AT.:.t
than a week, in lact, u you oujwj w
his remaining, he can be removed with
out much pam in two or tnree aajs.
He will probably be feverish at nrst,
fnr ba ia nrettv well blTUlSed : DUt V.
soon as that is over he can go to tne
hotel. If you wish, 1 11 engage rooms
for him at the Hilltop House, and have
a carriage sent for him at the first
possible moment. From his appear
ance, I judge he can stand the ex
pense." Tray, don't trouble yourself, she
answered, so coldly, the doctor won
dered what was the matter. "Mr.
Wait is an old friend, and I shall cer
tainly kesp him here until he is quite
But after the doctor had gone, . and
Ada had sent Ursula to look about
some supper for the invalid, she shook
her finger at Arnold, and warned him
not to speak of their marriage, upon
pain of death.
"It will create so much talk," she
said, when he began to interpose ob
jections to such a course. " Everybody
takes me for the most demure spinster
in the world. Wait uutil you are well,
and then we will be married over again,
if you aro still of the same mind."
It was no use for him to say a word.
Sho coaxed him and finally she kissed
him, and, of course, she had her own
way. And then she told him how her
father had taken her directly to Canada
after their wedding,, where, when she
found him still determined upon her
marriage with her cousin, she at last
disclosed the fact of her previous mar
nage. Out of revengo ho had ner
watched like a nun, and every attempt
to send a word to Arnold was frustrated
This went on for years, when he was
taken ill, and then, since the physi
cian pronounced his malady a fatal one,
he bound her by a promise, to refrain
from writing Arnold until after his
This done, he returned to the States,
bought a cottage within a few hours of
the city, where they remained until his
death, which occurred only a month
and I am free. I am of age ; he has left
his whole property to me as Ada Haven,
but without restrictions. 1 fancied, by
your remark when you landed so un
ceremoniously at the gate a short while
since, that you were glad to had me,
and, though I strongly object; to the
manner of your corning, I anf glad I
was not obliged to send you word before
you came, after all. I hava heard of
your irreproachable conduct, and itwas
frightfully hard to wait and not send for
yon, as I had promised. But now wo
havo found each other, we must kaep
th. )is6 a secret, or no . one wiu aver
believe in demure maidens and good
little boys any more
"But vou don t consider me at an,
he said, laughing ; "nevertheless, think
how hard it is to be married, lose your
wile for five years, and then when you
find her. to be obliged to woo ner ail
over again. If I am, however, I giva
you fair warning, Mrs. Wait, the second
wooing will be shorter man tne nrsi.
She blushed at the title he gave her,
and held up her hands depreoatingly as
Ursula s st9p was heard in the passage,
"III manage you somencw, she
laughed, and, being a woman, she did.
She sent for his Aunt .Earns ns soon
as she heard of the old lady's existence,
and, much shocked, his affectionate rel
ative repaired to Adi's cottage to assist
the poor girl in taking care ol Arnold,
and he was too kind hearted to be cross
about it. whatever he thought of the
As soon as he was able to sit up and
hobble about the room, Aunt Ennis dis
closed the reason for her inviiation.
"I haven't money enough to leave- to
keep a cat alive," she said; "but I've
in my possession a set of really valuable
rubies that an old aunt of mine once gave
me. and everybody thought I had sold to
keep body and soul togethor. So I said
I'd leave 'em to my nephew that thought
. " -..it 11 l.'L.J -
the most ot me ; or, it taey aii iiseame
well enough to come out and stay over
r. . - ii i:..a:
Christmas, I'd divide lti3 lot among
them. So here they are, Arnold, for a
wedding-nresent to your wife
The old lady opened the casket, which
truth compels me ta say was a paper-
nollar box. and exhibited a really fine
set of rubies.
' "I thought I had fallen into a mine
of rabies the other night, said Arnold,
and I wai right after all," as he held up
the glowing genu for Ada s inspection.
And Ada hid them ior a weacung
present, for they were remarried before
the beginning of Lint, making a nine
dys' wonder for society people, because
Arnold had fallen ia love so abruptly at
"Ton have a most excellent husband,"
said an old lady t Ada, a few dys ago,
"but were you not a little afraid to
accept a man you had known so short a
"Oh, no!" returns I Adv hastening,
with her usual good natare, to answer
the rather doubtfal query. Ihad heard
of Mr. Wait before, and basides, he
threw himself at my feet in so emphatic
and earnest a manner the evening he
left the cars so abruptly, it was imp ri
sible for me to refuse him."
rrs : r
In England. France and Germany, it
has long been the utom abvu . Christ
mas time for children, and even siewn-
ud people, to loin togetner in uie
bandstand . go from bouse
Airnia-" or ChristmaH irvinns.
of these -$impla carols are of
remarkable beautv. and some of them
are from two to three hundred years
old. The practice of carol-sirgmg ap
pears to be as ancient as the celebra
tion of Christmas itself, and in tfce
early -ages of the church, the biflhoaji
were accustomed b celebrate the bith
of Christ by singing appropriate hyi ana
i ii i
ana caroxs among uiau tuvigj..
In the course of . time these Christ Anas
hymns were sung by others as well a
the clergy, and at the present tima the
clergy have given tl up entirely.
Some of these sweet nymns, xnat ior
centuries have floated out upon tho air
of night, mingling with the weet ang-
ling of the Uhnstmas pens, .linger
in quiet villages in England, Pxanfce and
One of the most common is xue zoi-
lowing, the air of which is very sweet
and simple :
God rest you, merry gentlemen .
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour
Was born upon this day,
To save us all from Satan's thrall
When we were gone astray.
Oh, tidings 1 glad tidings !
For Jesus Christ o ir Saviour
Was born on Christmas ay.
In Bethienem in Jewry
This blessed babe was oorn, .: ,
And laid within a manger,
Upon this happy morn
And this disguise the mother wisa
Jid nothing take in scorn.
Oh, tidings, etc
More ancient than the first is the
As Joseph was a-walking, he heard an angel
"This night shall be born our Heanly King,
He neither shall in housen be bora nor yet ia
Nor mthe place or Faraiisa, Da v in an ox's
"He neither shall ba cloV-ied m purple nor m
)nt in the fair white linen that usen babies 11
d e neither shall be rocked in silver nor in jjold,
But in a wooden manger that rocks upon the
Then be ye glad, good people, this night o all
And luht ye up your candles, His star i
And all in Earth and Hcarven our Christmas
"Goodwill and peace andKiory" and all the
. bells shall rifcg I
The following has a quaint ballad
refrain that lingers pleasantly upon
the ear, like the ringing of the Christ
mas chimes :
1 saw three ship come sailing in,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day
I saw three ships come sailing in,
On Christmas Day in the morning.
And what was in those ships all three,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day 3
Oar Saviour Christ and. His Ladie,
On Christmas Day in the morning.
And all the bells on earth ehall ring;
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day
And all the angels in heaven shall sing,
Oa Chris tm is Day in the morning.
Then let us all rejoiee amain
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day :
Then let us all rejoice amain
On Christmas Day in the morning.
As rude and simple as a nursery
rhyme, the old song has still power to
stir a thousand tender recollections in
our hearts. There is a light and trip
ing movement in the following that
sets itself to musio like a lark s song :
Carol, carol, Christians,
Carol for the coming
Of Christ's nativity ;
And pray a gladsome Christmas
For all good Christian men,
Carol, carol, Christmas,
For Christmas comes again.
Carol, carol I
Carol, carol, Christians ;
Like the Magi now
Ye must lade your caskets
With a grateful vow :
" You must have sweet incense,
Myrrh and finest gold,
At your Christmas altar
Humbly to unfold.
Carol, carol I
We mustconcluae with the hope that
our little readers wm not iorget mat
Christmas, though ordinarily styled
holiday, must also be devoted to thank
ing- the Almighty for His infinite good-
lietw to us and to all mankind.
To the kredit of humanity let me here
i. T nllnmaa fonnrl them Teddv
Hb X u ""''
. mQ the i deserve,
. tt .nimfti with this disadva
. . , ot tw0 leKS
. hunif she didn't she
I 1 "I '
naror would hay made a munkey,
ThA milk ov human kindness, like al
,Tnflb. i nrincfrtally valuable for
wvuwi . j . m
f bn h-rA9.ni that iz on it.
M ah seldum argue mutch about wha
both oy them understand, they readily
agree that 12 Jnches make a foot, and
1 ft nnnofisa Tound,
T.i fA i short, but all ov us manage to
wacttA more ov it than we use. Josh
Diplomatic : "Ma," she said, confid
ingly, "Henry has asked me to marry
him." "And' you accepted?5' was the
query. "No, "'was the reply, "I didn't,
and neither did I reject him. If I can
keep him on the string until Christmas
he'll make me a handsome present to
induce me to say yes.' You know I
bftvA been wanting a gold watch for
Contentment : - ' Don't be forever
sighing for wealth, my son," counseled
John's father ; "be content with what
you have." "I intend to be content
when I have it," replied John.
:- With the good wishei of this joyful
season, we offer our friends a feast for
Christmas, which though rich will net
be found indigestible.
We have endeavored to bring all the
elements together for a Christmas ban
quet the oysters, the delicate soup, the
hsh, the joints, the poultry, the entrees,
the vegetables, the relishes, the bread,
the fruits, and the plum-pudding. Or
perhaps our Christmas number may be
better likened to the pudding itself,
which, we hope will be found well made
and full of plums.
We cannot control events, but unless
sadness, of a more than common sort,
intrudes into the household, Christmas
should be made memorable, by all the
associations which tend to give color
and "brightness to the most beautiful
festival of the year.
"Keep its memory green" with holly,
with the Christmas t ree .with the dainties
which fitly crown the Christmas board !
Buy toys for the little ones, and gifts
If the value is not great, and your
good intention unrecognized, that is no
concern of yours ; you will "have done
your work all the same, and it will cot
be lost ; some time it will be appreciated
and crowned by blessing, whether you
know is or not.
IiOving-kindness, thankf ulnees.are the
best gifts after all, and rich gifts be-
come poor, unless accompanied by these !
evidences of sincerity and true fellow
ship. There are gifts which sting like
the bite of an adder, because the giver
3 not eaual to the gift, and generosity
becomes too much for him or her, as the
ease may uo. oacugiiHwo uut wm
havidg. They cost too much in the
i- - ci -i. :x -r i
pain and humiliation of obligation.
Such persons are out of harmony with
the dmno spirit of love, which is the
foundation and inspiration of the merry
Christmas time, and furnishes the per
petual fountain from which its peren
nial freshness flows
Life is very short, and to most of us
very circumscribed, and the Christmas
holiday gives us year by year the most
universal awakening from its monotony,
both in the actual experience and the
retrospect. Doubtless it loses borne
of its charms at the period of middle
age, when we aro usually beset by cares
and anxieties, and when Christmas
brings to us, instead of simple joy,
teenniftrv rAsnonsibilities and addition
a: nnrnnna nnon time uuu uucun.
Still, judgment and foresight provide
for the first, and the last are labors of
love which actually lighten others, in-
stead of being felt as additional
For the children's sake, for the
home's sake, for the sake of the cheer
ing influence in your neighborhood, let
the yule fires burn, and the guests be
bidden. L?t the kitchen be alive with
the preparations for the days or weeks
beforehand, for the very odor of spice
and lemons, and the plum cake and
mince pie are part of the general
atmosphere of reioicing and good cheer,
of wh ch as f ew as possible should be
A cold, unloving hearth and home at
Christmas is a sad state of affairs, and
let us be careful that we are not
responsible for it. Some very good
people are so irritable over any inter
ruption upon the ordinary routine of
life. that, without any intention, ind
while furnishing the means, or doing
their best to put them to use, they em
bitter all the sweetness with ill-temper
and fault-finding. Oh I friends, what
ever of life is reserved for us, let us
render it as wholesome and healthful,
an hnnast and true, as kindly and
gentle as life should be, not only at
Christmas, but throughout the year.
Brother Gardner on Musio.
"I has received a letter from Boston,"
slowly remarked Brother Gardner, of
;,ho Lime Kiln Club, as he squinted
from Samuel Shin to Waydewn Beoee
"I has received a letter from Boston
axin me for mJ observashuns on de in
fluence of musio on mankind. I reply
dat mankind without musio would be
chawin' each other tip in half a day.
Musio am do stonowall dat surrounds
marcv. peace, chanty ana numanuy.
. i ;i
Only las week I war writin down my
ohftArvoRbunfl. fur da las' forty-seven
y'ars, an I will gib dem to do public as
"Desoun'ofia hoss-flddle bringn up
old reckyleckshuns an' starts de tear of
regret. If played long nun an de wina
am in de right direckshun, it will cause
de listener to shell out a fcubscripshun
of $3 to'rds a new cul I'd Baptist church.
Try it once tmd be convinced.
"De soun' of a harp hits a man below
do belt. He begins to fink of all de
mean fings he ever did', an' to wish he
hadn't, an at de eand of fifteen minits
he am all ready to step over an
Tav his navbur a dollar apiece fur de
hens he shot in his garden las' spring.
" De soun' ob de fiddle p.raba on to
eeben different h'art strings at once, an'
a man am knocked so fiat dat he will
esteem it a privilege to len' you ten
" Piano musio sometimes hits and
" De guitar alius brings sadness an' a
resolushun to begin on de fust of Jin-
uarv to auit runnin out nights an
"De melodeon used to produce a de-
tire on de part of the listener to be
buried under a yew tree, but I ha'r dey
hab improved it so dat a pusson had as
lief be buried under a bass-wood.
" De organ fills de soul with awe an'
strikes de heroio chord, if you am
layin' fur a man, doan tackle him jist
arterhe has been takin in denotes of
"De banjo yum 1 Ii you want my
dog my hoss my house an lot, play
me de banjo, an Keep time wia yer ms.
I spect de musio of an gene harps am
sweet an soft an dreamy ; but ef dey
want to keep us cull'd folks satisfied
uo dar a littio mo banjo an' a leetle
less ham. am de fust prescription. Let
tm jow attack de biziness of de meet
ing." Detroit Frm Press.
Power of journalism : The girl pressed
cs leaves, but the boy pressed the girl.
The press is mighty and must prevail.
The Oris! f Chiitm as a H114ay the
Manner f Its Celebrattoa la Plffereat
The ZD.h ci Jjecember is the day on
which the sun is nearer the most
southern point in its apparent annual
journey, and for so long as we have his
toricai record, it has been celebrated by
ceremonies and rejoicings.
The Hindoos on this day decorate
their homes with garlands of flowers
and papers of gold and tinsel, and the
custom of making presents to relatives
and friends is universally observed.
The Egyptians recognized it by their
festival in honor of the birth of their
in China it is general holiday, the
shops axe shut and the courts closed.
No journey would under any circum
stances be commenced on this day.
The Persians kept it as the birthday
of Mithras the Mediator, a spirit of the
sun. with ceremonies of uncommon
The old liomans neid nign iesuvai
a 1 . ill
in honor ol xsaccnus, rejoicing. wim
him that the sun was about to return
and revivify the vineyards. They
designated the day the birthday of the
There is no record that the birthday
of Jesus Christ was" observed till the
second century. At the suggestion of
Pope Telesphore some of the Eastern
churches recognized tne otn oi January
as the day, while thote of the West
added it to other celebrations in the last
week of December.
In the fourth century Pope Julius
msun ui uruei skicuiuiujk vuo iu
a 1- I" A I
, . . s .. ,
theologians of the time, for the purpose
of examining all evidence bearing upon
the date of the hirtn oi jesus, mas
they should, if possible, fix the day, in
order that its observance mignt oe uni
versal. After due deliberation they
decided that it was on December 25th.
This decision was, at the time, believed
by many of the fathers in the church to
be erroneous, and they went so iar na
to assert that the examiners had been
biased in their decision by the desire
to please the publio, to whom this day
had already become to be a noted one.
Popular feeling, however, sustained tne
council in their decision, whioh was
finally universally accepted and com
memorated, although it ia now gen
erally believed to be wrong. On the
publication of the decision the Boman
church decreed and instituted special
nravers to priests, to be said on that
dav. which are known as Christ masses.
- - ., . . . .
But we find , another derivation ior
the name. The old Saxons had a word
Matssa. bv which they designated all
davs free from labor, whether holidayr
or fast davs. The holidays kept Li
remembrance of "the birth of Christ,
were Christ vicessa.
The spread cf tho Christian religion
carried with it the observance ot Christ
mas as a religions festival with which
became connected other observances
varvincr with the customs and habits
of different nations.
With the Germans. Christmas is
esteemed the " Children's Festival," and
with them originated the word-famous
myth of " Saint Nicholas," alias oanta
Clans." alias "Kris Kringle," the patron
of the Yule-tide and the friend of all
proper boys und prettily behaved girls,
HaDDilv the reforms in the observance
of the day. which began in Germany,
reached and was copied in otner
portions of Europe. Christmas is also
now "Children's Day " in England and
France. In toys and confections for
the period the children are distinctly
remembered in Italy, and in America
the Christmas tree, the "stockings
hung bv the chimney with care," and
the harmless merry games and innocent
glee ot childhood supplant much of the
boisterous carousal which once tendered
to rend to the day rollicking and
riotous. It was formerly the custom.and
is sti!l the practice in some of the small
villages in North Germany, to commis-
sionxhe personage ox " li.necn Jttuperv
corresponding with our oanxa iiaus,
to distribute all the presents made by
parents to . children. DiBgulsed by a
mask, wearing an enormous flaxen
beard, clad in a long white robe, and
ahod in - tall buck-skins. " Knecht
Rnoerfc" went from house to house, was
received by the parents with great
ceremony, called for the children,
afte the strictest investigation into
thair deserving. tlirensed gifts accord.
irnrlv. "Santa Cans." we all know
reports himself differently.
"Ii Xmas day oa Sunday be,
A windy winter ye shall see ;
Windy weather in each week,
And hard tempests, strong and thlok.
The summer shall be good and dry,
Corn and beasts shall multiply ;
That year is good for lands to till,
Kings and princes shall die by skill ;
If a ch'ild born that day shall be,
It ehall happen right well for he,
Of deeds he shall be good and stable,
Wise o speech and reasonable.
Whoso that day goes thieving about ;
And it sickness that day betide,
It shall quickly from thee glide."
twwt!v aoorned: "Qem'len." said
v ,-oa rABTimfl
the president, as business was Resumed,
"it am my painful dooty ioouuo
fack dat letters ol inquiry worn ae
"Jary of dg jjWb to , . de Jetary
of de meeting ?" Giveadam Jones dashed
off and presented the following : un
solved, dt dis club will hereaiter xreas
de Concord School of Philosophy wid
fn-mr1 bantinass an icy reserve ; and
resolved, dat any pusson who wants to
know anything 'bout philosophy kin
secure de werry lowest cash figures by
addressin dis club The resolutions
were adopted without debate. Being
Christmas day the club adjourned over.
,A11 doubts dissipated: 'O)o you
ever take anything 7' asked ah Austin
candidate, leading a prominwnet citizen
into a saloon. "Do I ever tslo any
thing? Don't you remember -I have
been a member of the legislature V
That settled it. He took something.
There's a Song in the Air.
There's a song in the air,
There's a star in the sky,
There's a mother's deep prayer
And a baby's low cry I
And the star rains its fire
. While the Beautiful sing,
For tho manger of Bethlehem
Cradles a King. -
There's a tumult of joy
O'er the wonderful birth,
For the Virgin' sweet boy
Is the Lord of tho earth I
. Ay, the star rains its fire
yhile the Beautiful sing.
In the light of that star
Lie the ages impearled ;
And that song from afar
Has swept over the world.
Every hearth is aflame, : . - -
And the Beautiful einj, .
In the homes of the nations, that
Jesus is King. . ,
We rejoice la the light,
And we echo the song
That comes down through the night
From the heavenly throng. - .
Ay, we shout to the-lovely . .
Evangel they bring, - . ;
And we greet in his cradle
Our Saviour and King.
Tho Christ Child,
The Germans have a beautiful legend,
which they more than half believe, that
on Christmas morning, the Child, born
in a stable, revisits earth, to look after
the little ones, that fiom the little
prince in his royal cradle to the baby
Bleeping IIEo mmseii in Eiraw, none -are
left unvisitod by Him, that He may
know how men have welcomed those
whom He gave as an especial legacy
into their tenderest keeping. What if
the story were true? What if, when in
a few' days Christmas dawns upon us,
the Holy Child were actually to enter
into the myriad homes of this so-called .
Christian city? On one street, He
would find hosts of beautiful children,
guarded from every unkind wind, wrap
ped in velvets, jeweled, pampered with
dainties, the constant care and delight
of watchful mothers and fathers. They
are his creatures; the good things
which make life a pleasant dream to
them are absolutely His gifti to their
parents. Side by side with them on the
crowded pavement, doztring their footr
steps with outstretched Lads and hun-
gry eyes, aro hosts oi otner cnuaren.
His creatures also. They are naked and
famished and sorrowful. They are so
used to misery and want that it has not
occurred to them that they have a right
to complain. They look at their more for
tunate brothers with an awe and wonder
rather than envy, as they might peer
through the gates of heaven as tl e
blessed within ; they, f orever, in th
cold and darkness. Most of them, as
their faces show, have but little knowl
edge or thought of God s world which
we are wont to call good other than
their own great mischance, the hunger
and cold and disease gnawing at their
meagre lives night and day. Some of
the baby faoes are simply dull and
tired ; others who begin in the cradle to
make a fight apainst death, are nerco
and cunning. Presently they will all
begin the desperate wrestle against fate
and their richer brothers which is the
wholo that life means to them. Why
should God have sent them ma world
from which they must wrench their
rights by force ?" There is their argu
ment ; while we wonder wnat nas maae
them tlieves and murderers, and, when
they annoy us, imprison them as the
one, or hang them a? tho other.
Is the German legend indeed a fable?
Will not the poor children meet ns on
Christmas day in every street and alley
with their pale faces, end empty, joyless
lives? Will the Christ Child not be
there to see and jadg'? Surely, if we.
could but Bee Him as He stands among
us that day, it would be as when once
before He camo to His disciples, and,
"taking a liule ohild, et him in their
midst." There is not a single hungry,
ragged ohild in New York who does not
come to us with that d.vine message,
straight fromHim.x "What will you do
with thisrmy brother?" Now, tteu-re
it is too late, is the time for
Christian hands to ba outstretched to
them to save body and soul. We do not
mean to urge any other argument. We
might tell of evil to the state averted ;
of ."dangerous classes' rendered net
only harmless but helpful; but we
choose only to rem mber on Christmas
that these hungry children and shiver
ing babes are oar brothers and His.
Nor need our sympathy exhale in wak
sentiment, or a sigh or two of compas
sion. The Children's Aid Society gives
us a direct and practical way of offering
aid. It is a tried, trustworthy, and ef
ficient organ of chari'v. Daring the
last year it has lodged and fed 25,408
children, provided 3,162 with homes, of
Tfhom 940 were orphans. It has twenty
one industrial schools open to all.
children who cannot attend the publio
schools, besides four . free reading
rooms. "Fifty dollars," Mr. Brace
states, "will provide three homeless
children with a home ; or give a school
of fifty children a warm dinner for a
TfT it . 1 at t
wui reaa mis ap-ew unmovea , wnue
w tttw iW he-y-ea in the
, - nbr4at nA
. M(t hahrtt w Tt -b
forget the young, young children
nothing but tears and disappointment
unless her kind hand is outstretched to
j them. Tribun.
Does not this sentiment meet the
history ol the world , in similar oon
A youthful critic : Charlie Smallfaoa
U continually mislaying his memo
randum book. We noticed ii carefully
hung np on the floor of his room this
morning and opened it at the last entry,
whioh was : "My father says, 'An
honest man is the noblest work ol
God. I saw the same remark in a
newspaper. This proves the old man a
plagiarist, and no plagiarist is an honest
man. There is no 'noblest work in on?
family.- - ..