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Itcur $eav, 1002
PAUL'S NEW YEAR'S GIFT
AN AMATEUR SANTA CLAUS
HE FOUND THE BABY YEAH IN THE
Paul's little visit at grandpa's was at an
end, and h had to come home. The butler
oepned the door quietly, and looked down
at him with a twinkling eye, writes Marion
Dickinson, in Youth's Companion.
"Happy New Year, Jenkins!" and the
small man skipped into the hall.
"Happy New Year, sir!" answered the
Paul tugged away at his rubber boots,
but was glad of Jenkins' help. "See the
skates grandpa gave me!" he said, proudly
displaying the shining treasure. "Where's
mamma? 1 want to show 'em to her right
"Your mother says you're to go into the
library and wait until nurse comes; then
you can go up to see her."
"But I want to go now!" Paul objected.
Nevertheless, he went obediently into the
Backing up to his father's easy chair, he
was just about to make himself comfortable,
when there came a small shriek from the
hall and the rustle of garments, and some
body seized him by the coat collar.
"Gracious goodness!" nurse panted. "In
another second you would have sat down!
You gave me a turn, Master Paul."
"What's the matter?" askd Paul, rather
indignant at this unceremonious treatment
of a boy who was old enough to own skates.
Nurse laughed softly. "Turn around and
look at the chair," she said. "It's another
A large pillow filled the seat of the great
chair, and on it lay a soft roll of flannel.
Paul backed away. "What is it?" he asked,
Nurse carefully drew down a fold of the
flannel, and there was a tiny pink face, with
blinking blue eyes, a mouth like a round O,
and no hair to speak of.
For an instant Paul stared with wide
open eyes; then, with a whoop of delight,
he dashed into the hall and up the stairs.
"Mamma, mamma," he shouted, "come
down quick! The little New Year's in the
Theu Should Go Only Where Our Hearts
Prompt the Sending.
In the Ladies' Home Journal I'M ward
Bok writes in vigorous deprecation of the
complicating of Christmas. "Much as we
need simplicity in all the phases of our liv
ing," he contends, "its greatest need is
sometimes felt at Christmas. And it seems
a pity that we cannot make a beginning
there. We could if we would simplify this
question of presents; if we would leiive out
of our consideration all but the natural
promptings of our hearts. If ever material
considerations should be dismissed from our
minds and lives it should be in connection
with Christmas. If ever our friends should
see our hearts our real inner selves it
should be on Christmas day. Not that we
should be other than our real selves on other
days. But as it is, we are not our actual
selves on the day of all days when we should
be. See how we strive that our present of
this year shall surpass the one we gave last
year! See how instinctively we think of the
material value of what we give, and actually
of what we receive! See how we wrong our
selves by leaving needful things undone and
inviting illness because we feel we must give
something of our own making to a friend,
when really a sigh goes into each stitch,
instead of being frank with ourselves, and
pleasing our friends infinitely more by being
frank with them, and purchasing something
at far less cost to our health. Every woman
knows what I mean by this; the great evil
of 'making things' for Christinas presents
when really neither the time nor the
strength can be spared. In much the same
way we complicate Christmas at the table."
A Month of Celebration.
Perhaps no nation or religion enjoys New
Year's day more than the Chinese. They
relcbrate their feast in the early part of
February, and the festivities last a mouth.
Beating of drums and firing of crackers,
with decoration of bunting and flags, usher
in this day, when the people visit their
joss houses, worship their gods, and with
oriental ceremony shake hands with "A
Happy New Year." In preparation for this
event a Chinaman tries to square his ac
counts with all the world, and a Chinaman
who owes debts at the beginning of the
New Year forfeits his right to be called a
Who buys for boys this hint may take:
The frailest drum will soonest break.
5ms Br olHerlori-
(Uncle Selh loquitur.)
A-good'old-fj0med Chris' mas, with the logsjipdnihe hearth.
The tjblf filled with feasters, an' theroprfrehroar 'ith mirth.
With the stochin's crammed to bustjfan the medjfcrs piled 'ith.
A good dd-fasjnoftedxChris'mas like we had so lopgoj
NnmiS IhHt itlMf tfirfin
But Crimaslhthe ah here
With ll&cnywded husUe-busth
Ajilffie scowl upon thefyleJ of the
,of the stushf. noisL streetA A 1
sftmgte that you mbf. j fl
Oh, there's buyin', plenty of it. of a lot o' gorgeous toys.
An' it takes a mint o' money to please modem girls and boys.
Why, I mind the time a jack-hniffaJ&a toffy-lump for me
Made my little heart an' stockirjfruaioch-full of Chris' mas glee.
. 1 1 1 1 n i i i jii i v
Km Mnuchforstyld y- J
i ' u iu .... a i : i w
iM Mrefi wouldn t go a mtlef yj f
YotrseeI'm so old-fashtone
An to eat your .hrtssnasoapqu
I d rather haypswe Solomon, a good yarb-dinnefsvt- j j
With neafotf friends than turkle soup with all the nobs you 'd get.
Hhng this citytif)
axi-door heidhbor GrlJifanh how his
. . a - . i i 1 t r
dhbller "WeniQxrii'masl Cdight, old fellow, Chris
Cyffs he d nearly have
ysj I can't gef fjsed jb
Then ydur heart illfept
An' by night you
brMjs 'u'dlift. V
An' your enemy, the wo'st one, you
'Mebbe both oLtiSAuas wroaqjohn.
Mighty little Chris'mas
Where each snowflak
Fo a good old-fash
CtHTUKV uc Jj" eJ-
i till it nearly bu 'st your side, J
achin with your smile four inches wide.
d Just drab hb hand. m'isMv:
Obihe. lets-shahe W ChrisVm dAln
I Lie7X k 11 I
Spirit seemsJfrdwtU Hiucen cih walls.
1 j . . f. . . .. .. -
a Brings t soot-fisue for a brotner astt taus;
V iprtftLASn iinirf, don't you knokuf
mnatjiftt 'Xiji.c lihAmA fiAtf tn Irmti Ann
HIS LOT WAS NOT AN ENVIABLE ONE
BY ANY MEANS.
The man who had been selected to be the
Santa Claus sat out on the top of the roof
in the cold, cold night and looked up at
the twinkling stars.
"I've got a nice job, I don't think,"
growled Santa Claus. "I think when it
comes to being a nice, obliging young man
I am certainly the easiest ever. The next
time I go to a Christmas house party, why,
I won't. O, yes. 'We just have to have
a Santa Claus, Mr. Everts, to slide down
the great, wide chimney in the back hall.
There is a ladder fixed there, and you can
come down easy. The other men just won't
do it, and I hate to ask you, but you are so
'O, I'm obliging all right. I'm a real
sweet thing, and I'm just tickled to death
to sit up here like a north pole explorer on
the warm side of an iceberg. All nice and
warm down-stairs and that idiot Fleming
is dancing all over the shop with Miss Rob
erts. The other fellows are sitting on dark
stairs and making goo-goo eyes, and I'm on
top of the house playing Santa Claus.
"O, this is just too lovely for any use. I
just dote on this game. But if anybody
ever comes up sudden like in the night
and asks me if it's nice to be a Santa Claus,
I'll tell them that when it comes to good
things being Santa Claus is certainly the
"I wonder how many years I have to roost
up here on this perch anyhow. I was to sit
near the chimney so that I could hear that
gang of trundle-bed trash howl that song
about 'Welcome, welcome, dear old Santa
Claus.' Well, not a sound do I hear.
"I believe this is one of those snipe hunt
ing propositions. They get me up here and
then skip. Wonder they don't set fire to
the house to make it more pleasant for your
nice old uncle Santa.. Wish they would.
It'd be warmer."
A voice from the trap door in the roof:
"Mr. Everts, Mr. Everts, we've been wait
ing a half hour and the children have sung
until they're hoarse. Why, Mr. Everts,
you're at the wrong chimney." Chicago
A PLACE FOR SANTA CLAUS.
The Storu of the Old Saint should Be
Told In Merru Mood.
With the approach of Christmas arises
the problem discussed by modern mothers
and child -students in regard to the fiction
of Santa Claus. Is it wrong to deceive a
child, and will he not lose faith in the par
ent when he finds out that Santa Claus
does not exist? The best advice we have
ever seen on the subject was an editorial
printed in that excellent magazine for moth
ers as well as teachers, the Kindergarten
Review. The editor defends Santa Claus.
The trouble, where there is any, arises, she
says, from efforts to give the old story a
realistic setting and to reply to questions
with too ingenious fibs. "We put too little
fun and fantasy into our telling of the
Christinas tale," she writes; and again:
"Told as such tales ought to be told in a.
merry mood, with laughing mien and won
der tone, with funny winks and shrugs as
parryings of difficult questions the tale is
harmless enough." When the child dis
covers that Santa Claus is not real, he need
not feel a shock any more than when he
suspects that there are no fairies or goblins.
But the parents who raise this difficulty are
usually those who disapprove of fairy sto
ries. We are glad that we have such au
thority for retaining the "Santa Claus
myth," for old and young enjoy the merry
"make-believe." And when the child out
grows it we can afford to let it go. One
Christmas story more wonderful and super
natural he can never outgrow that of the
Babe and the Star and the Angels. Con
gregationalism A Good New Year's Resolution.
I have never been much of a hand at
making resolutions; still less at keeping
them; but if I were to throw some of my
ideals into that form for a New Year's
gift to my friends, I suppose it would run
something like this: Resolved, To live in
the active voice, intent on. what I can do,
rather than what happens to me in conse
quence; in the indicative mood, concerned
with what is, rather than what might be
more to my liking; in the present tense,
with concentration on immediate duty,
ratuer than regret for the past or anxiety
for the future; in the first person, criti
cising myself, rather than condemning
others; in the lingular number, obeying
my own conscience, rather than the de
mands of the many. -William De Witt
Hyde, in Boston Congregationalism