Newspaper Page Text
'ITTLE Mandy and her
MaMI 'S poorest folks you ever saw! Lived in poorest house in town, Where the fence 'uz all tore down. And no front-door steps at all 1st a' old box 'g'inst the wall; And no door-knob on the door Dutside,--y! but they 'uz poor! Wuz no winder-shutters on, And Borne of the windfers gone. And where they 'uz broke they'd pas'e [st brown papr 'crlost the place. Tell you! when it's winter there, An d the snow ist ever'where, Little Mlandy's Ma she say 'Spec' thy'll freeze to death some day. Wunst my Ma and Me--when we lien to church, and's goin' to be :'hris'mas purty soon,---we went There-like the Committee sent. knd Sir! When we're in the door, Wus no carpet on I the floor, And no fire - and heels and-head 1i Little Mandy's tuck ed in bed. And her Ma telled .-:i my Mla she : Got no coffee but ist tea, And fried mush and's all they had sense her health ? broke down so bad. he" Nen Ma hug and hold me where Little Mandy's layin' there; And she kiss her, too, and nen Mandy kiss my Ma again. And my Ma she telled her we Goin' to have a Chris'mus-Tree At the Sunday School, 'at's fer All the children, and fer her. Little Mandy think-nen she Say, "What is a Chris'mus-Tree?" Nen my Ma she gived her Ma Bomepin' 'at I saw. And say she must take it,-and She ist maked her keel) her hand - Wite close shut, and nien she kiss . Her hand-shut ist ike it is. SNen we comed away ... And nen - _ When its Chris'mus Eve again, And all of us chil derns be At the Church and Chris'mus-Tree- And all git our toys and things 'At old Santy Claus he brings And puts on the Tree;-wite where The big Tree 'us standin' there. And the things 'uz all tooked down, And the childerns, all in town, Got their presents-nen we see They's a little Chris'mus-Tree. Wite behind the big Tree--so We can't see till nen, you know, And it's all ist loaded down With the purtiest things in town! SAnd the teacher Z" smile and say: . "This here Tree 'at's y" hid away It's marked 'Little . \landy's Tree!' Little M and y ! Where is she?" - Nen nobody say a word. Stillest place you ever heard! Till a man tiptoe up where Teachers' still a waiting there. Nen the man he whispers, so Ist the Teacher hears, you know. Nen he tiptoe back and go Out the big door-ist as slow! Little Mandy, though she don't Answer-and Ma say "she won't Never, though each year they'll be 'Little Mandy's Chris'mus-Tree,!' Fer pore children"- -my Ma says And Committee say they guess "Little Mandy's Tree" 'ull be Bigger than the other Tree! (Copyright, by Bobbs-Merrill Co.) PICKING A P1RSTNT 1 DLLAT y DovuLA sALocn HEN Harry Platt and that girl friend of the Greens (I forget her name) were married, it was one of those my-goodness - gracious Just-think-of-that af fairs, with no one in on the secret except the suburban minister who tied the knot, the cab man who drive them out there and the girl from the minister's kitchen, who was a witness, and left a thumb-print of grease on the certificate (she was frying doughnuts at the time) and the minister's wife (at least the name was the same). Let's see, where was I? Oh, yes, when the Platts were mar ried, it being that kind of a wedding, there was no chance to send them a wedding gift as I would have liked to do, or to have done. (whichever is proper, or grammatical, though I'm sure I can never tell which) But Mr., Platt is one of thie nicest men in the office, that is, he was before this happened. So I felt we ought to do something for him, just 'to show our good will-and, anyhow, we've dug down for others we thought much less of, so why shouldn't we for him? But the wedding was over, without in vitations, or even a reception, and they were housekeeping before we knew it. So what could we do? Well, just then Christmas came along not just then but two months after the wedding. They were mar ried October 29, so it wasn't quite two months, but / that's close "' enough. When Christmas came t R along, that is, just before it came along, I sug- p. gested that we make up a purse and give them a sort of delayed wedding present, just to show our good will. Every body thought it was a splendid idea, that is, of course, except \l r. Platt, whom, of course, I didn't con cult. So I got up a subscription paper and went to everybody in the office (except Mr. Platt, of course). I got $26.60, including ten cents from the janitor, who wasn't expecte 1 to give anything but wanted to give some thing, which shows just how popular Mr. Platt was with everyone in the building, when a janitor even would chip in. Christmas shopping is hard enough, goodness knows, when you do it for yourself; but when you do it for a stock company capitalized at $26.60, with 28 stockholders, with 28 different kinds of ideas and tastes, then Christ mas shopping rises above a mere an noyance to the dignity of a real trou ble. And that's what I was up against. I thought it would be nice to get an expression of opinion. So I went around one morning and asked for ideas. But I couldn't get a word. No body could think of "anything. I couldn't myself. At noon I went out and looked. I walked miles. I priced. then I went back to the office. You should have seen my desk. Honest, you would have thought some one had turned in a gen eral alarm: They couldn't wait for me to get back. There they were-28 of them, (that is, 27, or 28 with me). They all had suggestions, and they were all different. The head book keeper thought an arm chair would be nice. (He stands up all day). The collec tor thought a rain coat would be . 4 best, while Miss Jones suggested a dress pattern. They all said, of course, that they left it entirely to me; and then each went away sadly, as much as to say that he hoped I wouldn't be so i Ifoolish as to buy any of those other things that the others had pro posed. The next day I looked again. But either a thing was too expensive or I would have money left. It is remark able how few things there are in the world you can buy for $26.60, no more, no less. And then I saw it. It was in a de. partment store, and marked down from $50 to $26.60! There it was, to a cent! A great, big, glittering, mag nificent Punch Bowl! Nobody had thought of that! But, to make sure, I sent the sales ticket with it and told the Platts they could exchange the punch bowl. if they wished, for something they liked better. And what do you suppose those Flatts did? In January they traded in that mag nificent punch bowl for three tons of HE club looked just the very thing Gerald Man nersley was craving for -a sense of home. A few lines read ac. cidentally in an out-of date newspaper had made him restless with longing for the old scenes. And so he had traveled two days and nights in a sleeper, vaguely connecting his jour ney's end with all the love and friend ship his starved nature was demand ing. When he arrived at his old club on a chill, grey Christmas morning, it was only to find that fifteen years' si t absence had been too severe a test for friendship. The place was enmlty of all but servants, and they wore strange, unwelcoming faces. He stood at the club window, look ing out on the desolate, deserted street which he had falways remem bered as being thronged, and a great sadness swept over him. This was not what he wanted. From his pocket he drew out the scrap of paper which had really brought him :-o many miles, and looked at it bit terly. It was only a death announce ment cut from a paper of a year ago. and ran in the usual way-"Michael Townley, at his residence," etc. In fancy he saw a sweet-faced made n, who sought her hap piness only in the eyes of the youth by her side. There were joy bells there, too, .. as they left the church with the fragrance of mu tual love about them. The bells peal ed on outside, and willing fancy led him still further into the realm of "might have been." In an instant he made up his mind to visit once more the old-fashioned cottage not many miles away, to which he had hoped fifteen years be fore to take a bride. lie would go and see it, even if its neglected con dition only added to his loneliness and pain. Two hours later he was striding through the crisp country air along a winding path which led to a ram bling, ivy-covered cottage. As the last turn brought him in sight of the house he stopped in sur prise. lie had expected to see dirt, ruin, and decay, but instead lie looked upon a trim, well-kept cottage, and a soft, crooning song, in a voice which reawakened the tender memories of long ago, came floating through the unlatched door. -Ialf believing that it must be fanicy leading him still, he entered the house softly, and, following the voice, went into the inner room, and stood in the glow of the warm firelight. The sweet, tired-faced, middle-aged singer turned as his shadow fell across the light, and then stood white and trembling. "Gerald!" she whispered. "Gerald! have you come to reproach me? Not today! Not today!" The strong man's voice broke as he held out his arms. "Nance!" he cried joyfully. In a moment she was crushed, sob bing, to his breast. "Oh, Gerald! is it really you? Cod is very good. I thought you must be dead." For several moments they stood thus, the strong man's tears fall ing on her grey tinged hair'. Then he gently put her into a chair. "You are not. alone?" he asked as his eyes caught sight of a little table laid for two, daintily s p r e a d with Christmas fare. "Yes," she answered. "I am quite alone. I have often come down here." "But you are expecting somebody?" he said, calling attrention to the table. She flushed prettily, looking almost as young as she had in his dreams of the morning, as she replied: "I was expecting you, Gerald." He smiled happily at her; then the smile faded, and he sighed as he sank into a chair. "This is all foolishness, Nance," he said sadly. "You could not live here in the old days, you could do so less now, and I could not live here on an other man's thousands." A smile hovered over the woman's face as she flitted here and there, busily preparing things for a meal. Then she slipped behind a chair, and leaning over whispered with burning cheeks: "Perhaps you do not know, Gerald, that-that Mr. Townley's money goes back to his family if-if I marry again." The man sprang to his feet and took her into his strong arms again. "It is not too late," he cried. "We, are still young. Will you let me try to make you happy?" Her answer was drowned in the( burst of Christmas bells that pealed 1 from the village church close by. liut he did not need her words; he could see her eyes. Happy New Year of Many Nations EWI YEAR'S day has for for generations been the occasion of revels. It has come down to us from the old German custom of di viding the year at the close of those months when it was no longer possible to keep cattle out doors. This was made quite a fete and in the sixth century was merged into the feast of St. Martin, November 11, on which day the opening of the New Year was celebrated. While in Germany Martinmas and the New Year were identical, with the introduction of the Roman calen daur the celebration was gradually transferred to the first of January, and with it went many of the jolly Martin In:-s customs. Traces of these old New Year ob servances and supersitions can still be traced in the way the season is kept in different lands. .ur decorations of greens, for in stance, are a relic of the old Roman suitterstition of piresenting branches of trets for good luck in the coming The giving of presents has also come it uis from the Romans. They outdid evenii the generous Americans, for they utsed to ask for gifts, if not received, until one of the emperors forbade his subjects demanding gifts save on the NeNw Year. One of the favorite New Year.'s gifts after pins were Invented in England, in the sixteenth century, were the rough hand-made pieces of metal that took the place of bone and wood skewers Later phi money was substituted. A gift that must never be omitted was an orange stuck with cloves to grace the wassail bowl. Apples, nuts and fat fowl were popular offerings of Shlio season. Gloves and glove money is a very old New Year custom which is still keplt up in the Increasing use of gloves as holiday gifts. Even more curious are the old New Year customs. Many of these are still observed by old-fashioned people who cling to the old traditions. The old-fashioned Englishman will formally open .the outer door of his house on New Year's eve just at the alplroach of midnight. This is to let out the old year and usher in the new. The Scotch make much of New Year. It is generally ushered in with a "hot pint," brewed at home and drunk by the family standing around the bowl just as midnight strikes. After hearty greetings to the New Year, the "hot pint," with bread, cheese and cakes, is taken to the houses of the neighbors. The first to enter another's home on the first of January bestows good luck on the fam ily for the year. In many of the Scottish regiments even yet the ushering in of Noew Year is most picturesque. At five minutes before twelve the soldiers, headed by the oldest man in the regiment dressed as Father Time, nmarch out of bar racks headed by the band playing "Auld Lang Syne." Just at the stroke of twelve there comes a knock at the gate. "Who goes there?" calls the sentry. "The New Year," is the answer. "Advance, New Year," is called back. The gates are thrown open and the smallest drummer lad in the regiment, dressed in lHighland costume, is car ried in on the shoulders of the risen, and marched around the barracks to the pipers' tunes. Tho rest of the ntght is spent in carousing. op .o .s - '- o / ýTný O~~;L~7 ~ O~ li I b ý'ý 29d ý ,[A rayer fonr L Ne PJar "1r TERNAL God, in whom" is the hope of all our years, remember us in Thy mercy also in this new year of our Lord. Reveal Thy glory in the experience of its joys and Ssorrows. Forestall its tears with the abiding comfort of Thy presence. Mak e us strong rightly to measure all our gains and to endure with patience every loss Thy love allows. Show us Thy meaning in the gifts and opportunities of each new day. Assure us of Thy help in labor, Thy delight in our joys. QOicken our minds to clear vision and our hearts to cheerful content. Provide for our bodies such vigor as shall be needful for our allotted work. We leave to Thee the mystery of the year's events, assured that Thou wilt guide our way. With hold from us all gifts which would prevent Thy purpose for our growth in wisdom and in service. Only deny us not Thy. self -Thy Spirit to instruct our hearts, Thy work to share, Thy peace to still our restlessness, Thy presence to resolve our doubts. In the sifting of temptation grant that our faith fail not, and when our years are ended bring us to Thyself, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 4l Happy New Year Just tt t the turn rtof mlnight, Yhen tho children are fast asleep, The tired (rhi Year slips out by hitnsolf, (lad of ai chiir.e to Ie laid on the shelf Anid the New Year taes a perirp. ,Iest gift of (Zime 'lThe passing of years is liko the coming of davwn ---slow, silent, inevit able. The most eager ('aullnl. hasten the quiet, irresistible mIovemntflit, and the miost relnuctant I;nnot forbid.i. Sonic gifts the years bring whicth we would fain decline-- age, sorrow, disappoint ment. Some treasures lhey t;kltt. which we woulld keep forlever- -youthrl, bIeati y, innocencle.. uilt Il ltr I re tlito . pIree Ious treLiasures which t tlite (cannot sullllly and lth(e s(i.l's annolllllt remolllve friendshipl, )patience, faith and love. Herbert L. Willett. Tie wind ri blw there arnd lthe wlrindl blew here, Anrd Iriuightt from Some where the small New Yra r. It ta,,rpped. for him at each door iiandI pane And never once was a knock In vain! All good folks. waited the corning chiltd. Their doors they opened and on him smiled. Inside he stepped, with a happy face, And softly slipped in the Old Year's place. Said he: "I bring nyou a RBo of Days. Tied round with tissue o l rainbow rays; I give It joyfully, for I Icknow, Though all days may not with gladness glow, Each gift holds some precious bit of cheer To win your thanlks," said the sweet Child Year! Good New Year's Resolves The New Year is a good time to "leave the low-vaulted past," to drop the yesterdays, to forget bitter mem. ories. Resolve that when yoiu cross the line between the old and the new year you will close the door on everything in the past that pains and cannot help you. Free yourself from everything which handicaps you, keeps you back I and makes you unhappy. Throw away all useiless baggage, drlop overything ress. Ci t ier the door ,tt tih tow yei-a wilth a BlIri shlate and al flree mindll . Don' t O t mortgaigted to the past, ardi tle:," loos back.- Orison Swett Maurdln in Suc. cess MaIgazine. Origin of New Year Gifts ,ike the! cUstomlls of ('hzristmas, which, in their originl, are a iroious mixtuire of poetry atn symbolhlism and of siuper'stition, those that belong to the observance of New Year's day are also relies of ideas that date from early heath en ages. The French de rive their term for New Year pres ents from the Latin word, Strenia, the name of a goddess whom the Ro mans venerated as the patroness of gifts. There was a grove in Rome dedicated to this goddess, where it was customary to get fresh twigs, to give as presents to friends and relatives on New Year's clay. During the sway of the emperors, Roman subjects made New Year's gifts to their sovereign. Augustus received such quantities of these that he had gold and silver statues made of them. Tiberius did away with the usage, because he con sidered it too troublesome to express thanks for the gifts. Caligula, on the contrary, reintroduced the custom, and even made up for his predecessor's re fusal to receive presents by requir. ing those that had been offered to him to be given to himself as arrearages. The custom of making New Year's gifts, notwithstanding attempts to sup press it, was continued after Europe had become Christian. For a time pres. ent making was transferred to Easter. but later it was again associated with the first day of January. SHE SAVED A QUARTER MRS. ARMES GOT RID OF THE SPURIOUS COIN. But the Poor Young 3irl Who Ao. cepted It Over the Counter was Forced to Pay the Penalty. Mrs. Armes handed $1.25 to the girl at the glove counter in payment for her purchase. "Even change," she said. "Need I wait for the sales slip?" "We are not allowed to deliver the package until the cashier sends back the voucher," the girl explained. "Here it comes now." She caught the box as it fell from the tube, and pulled out the slip. A quarter fell out with it. The girl glanced quickly at her customer. "I am very sorry, but we cannot take this quarter," she said. "It Is not a good one." Mrs. Armes frowned. "Isn't that a bother!" she exclaimed. "Of course I have not the remotest idea where it came from. I shouldn't know the dif ference. I wonder if my dimes are counterfeit, too! It makes one feel so doubtful." The dimes and nickels, however, proved good, and a moment later her purchase was handed her. Mrs. Armes took It absently. 11cr mind was still busy with that quarter. "I've got to get rid of it somehow," she reflected. "I can't afford to lose it. I'll try the little corner store. I'll get some thread there." The little corner store was a tiny, pathetic place, kept by an elderly woman whose face showed how diffi cult the struggle had been. She never had more than one assistant-always young and inexperienced. Today the girl was a new one. She accepted Mrs. Armes' quarter without qurstion, and that lady, with a sigh of relief, hasti ly put her thread in her bag and left the store. Five minutes later Miss Earle hap penedl to go to the cash drawer, and her fingers touched the spurious coin; she drew It out at once. "See, Lucy, this is a counterfeit," she said, and sihe showed the girl how it differed In weight and "feel" and ring from a genuine coin. "You won't make such a mistake again. I'm sure," she went on. "I'lI sorry, but I shall have to take this from your pay tonight. I can't afford to lose it; my profits are too small.' The girl's face' darknneod. She made no protest, for she knew the meager profits of the shop, only-it seemed so cruel! Twenty-five cents was all that she was allowed to keep out of her scanty wages, and this week she had been planning a tiny treat for little sick Isa's birthday, and now-the hot tears filled her eyes. But Mrs. Armes had "saved" her quart'er!-Youth's ''ornparnion. He Got Fined Anyhow. In a sparsely settled region of West Virginia a motor car driver was once haled before a local magistrate upon the complaint of' a constable. The I magistrate, a good-natitred man, was not, however, ahsolutctly certain that ihe Washingtonian's car had been driv 1 en too fast, and the owner stoutly in sisted that he had been progressing at the rate of only six miles an hour. "Why, your honor," he said, "my en gine was out of order, and I was going t very slowly because I was afraid it would break town compiletely. I give you my word, sir, you could have walked as fast as I was running." "Well," said tlie magistrate, after due reflection, "oil don't appear to have been exceeding the speed limit, but at the same tile ionl must have been n!ilty of something or youl wouldn't be here. I fine you $101 for loitering." Just a Sentimental Angora. ` Mrs. Moloriarity owns a goat, for which she has a warm affection. All the neighbors regard Nanny as quite is much a lmember of the Moriarity family as its aMichael or Kathleen. ()nie fine mnorning Mrs. Riordan lname running across the street with her shawl over her head and said: "Mrs .Morarilty, what is the matter wid Nanny? Is she sick. I seen her I'anin' again Ihe corner of the house. and she was lookin' ill!" "The saints bless you, Mary Ann," replied Mrs. Morlarity. "Nanny ain't sick! She climbed up on the cinter table last night and ate the mistletoe, and it made her sentimental, that's all!" Worthy of Her Hire. A northern lady with philanthropic symptoms was trying to instil a little economy into her husband's colored tenants. One of them, Mary Kinney, an antiracesuicidlst, kept a colored girl as nurse to her group of ten growing American citizens. "Mary," remarked the lady, "do you think a woman in your circumstances can afford a nurse?" "I dunno 'm, as I kin, but I don't pay her but 25 cents a month, an' I pays dat in ole clo'es, and," with a wide smile, "she don't git dem."-Lip. tincott's Magazine. Baron Von Steuben's Grave. The plot about the grave of Baron von Steuben, near Remsen, is covered with weeds and wild saplings, the monument is defaced and needs point. ing, and the little path that leads to the historic resting place of all that is mortal of the great Revolutionary lead er bears a neglected appearance. Steps will be taken to care for tho -ave.- Dryden H.