The Saint Paul globe., December 28, 1902, Page 19, Image 19

About The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
CHUISTJIIfIS IN THE PINES
It was Christmas in the woods—in
the great, boundless pine woods of
Northern Minnesota!
To those who have never spent a
Christmas among the primeval pines,
with the lusty, rugged, good-natured
"lumberjacks" no idea of the joy that
is to be found there and there alone
can obtain.
"There is a pleasure in the pathless
woods" that is not felt elsewhere. There
one learns v/hat Gray meant when he
used the expression "the breezy call of
incense-breathing morn!" The ex
quisite aroma of the murmuring pines
mingling with the exhalations of the
generous balm of the balsam gives to
the sickly one assurance that had
Ponce de Leon but wandered through
a Minnesota forest he would not have
thought his search for the Fount of
„ Eternal Youth altogether in vain.
Yes, it was Christmas week; and for
two or three days Louis Prenault, the
foreman, had been in the full throes
of planning and preparation—co-oper
ating 1 with the cook as to the best way
of celebrating the- day. There is no one
.who takes a more childish, disinterest
ed delight in Christmas preparations,
than the true Canadian French habi
tant. His likes and dislikes, his friend
ships and antipathies are the same—
either may be founded on the most
trivial affair or incident. And once
formed they are for all time.
There was a momentous question to
be decided. It was a question of how
to get to the town —forty miles away—
to get the things deemed by one and
all to be necessary for a Christmas
dinner. This was to be the grandest
affair that was ever pulled off on the
banks of the Little Cloquet. Each man
was "dibbing in a dollar," as Pat Ma
lone phrased it, and everything was to
be in sumptuous style. But how could
they get the necessary turkeys in from
the town. No horses were available.
' Louis had told them of the situation.
"Fi' tea~m lay up, by gar!" turning
to the blacksmith, who lay on the floor
by the huge range, "zey are 'ow
you call zat? —ya! seeck —zat ees eet,
zey are seeck lak one dog, mon gar!"
"And you can't spare one for two
days?" asked the blacksmith.
"N —no sacre, no, zee work she
is back —much back."
"What's the matter with a party go
ing out on snowshoes?" asked the
smith. .
"Huh! Zee H'American lumberjack,
he cannot walk zee snowshoe —zee
Frenchman I want. "We are—oh hell!
'ow you say zat? —we*- are —stuck!
Sure!" and he rolled the difficult syl
lables around his tongue as though he
had never attempted them before. The
Frenchman does not take kindly to the
English language.
* * •
But the blacksmith did some hard
thinking through the night. He was
a Canadian, though not a Frenchman,
and in his youth he had been an expert
snowshoer; and the next day he asked
Louis to let him have six" men whom
he could choose from the ranks. Louis
gave-jfeis consent, and then, as he ex
pressed it, "zee fo-on —she commence."
Round and round the cook shanty the
blacksmith drilled his men, initiating
them into the arts and mysteries of
manipulating the shoes. Many and
ludicrous were the incidents that oc
curred during their period of novice
ship, and Louis and his countrymen
laughed till their sides ached.
At last their instructor pronounced
thenr sufficiently versed- in "snowshoe-
WHEN THE AX IS LAID BY FOR MERRYMAKING.
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"It, is a Fine Thing tioßea Good Singer but the Pride of the Woodsman Is to Be a Good Dancer."
ology" to start upon their journey of
forty miles and back. Louis attempted
to give'them instructions as to what
tc get, but he get everything so mixed
that all had to be gone over again, and
that time they were muddled worse
than ever.
"Fi' gal' of zee tea, and sev' poun'
of zee whisk' and ten poun' of zee mo
lass'-^-comprende vous?"
"Aw, what'er you talkin' about?" in
dignantly asked Red Hennessy, the
lustiest man on the Little Cloquet.
• "we're goin' after supplies—not to un-
ravel some Chinese-French riddle."
And with a majestic shrug of his
shoulders the foreman turned and
walked into the cook shanty, leaving
-the instructions with Napoleon, the
cook.
• * •
It was five days later, in the even
ing, thttt the party returned, each one
shouting, stamping, puffing and brush
ing the snow off himself and all telling
funny stories of incidents that Bad hap
pened along the way, and of how this
one or that had met with a mishap
while crossing a stream or a fence.
The things were lovingly unpacked
by Napoleon and the "cookee"' and
each article placed with tender care
where they would keep best.
"Zee turk' —mon gar, she is one bird!
Hah?"
"Ay tank it yust bane about de fin
es' dat was. What yo' tank, Yohn?" .
"Ay bane tank so —was yust so fine.
Ja, ja!"
"Zee teeth she wataire lak some
ting I nevaire see."
"Howly saints! but what a divvle of
a toime we'll hey."
And all stood around and commended
each in his own earnest way the work
of those who had walked the weary
miles and chosen the things.
Two days must pass before Christ-^
mas would be with us—and oh, the
amount of labor that was performed
in_ that time by Napoleon and his
cookee; and the amount of cursing that
the excitable Frenchman did in -that
period was enough to do any ordinary
man for the rest of his life. But Na
poleon did not weary in well doing—
at the expiration of the two days he
was as fresh for another run as when
he first began.
The huge turkeys had been hung in
the loft of the barn so that they would
be kept frozen, and on the afternoon
of the 24th Napoleon went to the barn
to get the birds.
The loiterers about the camp heard
him about two minutes later:
"Sacre! Diable! '-rr —! 1" he fair
ly screamed.
"What's the matter, Napoleon?" they
asked him.
"Mattaire? Mattaire! Mattaire! Ze
—ed fox she haf eat ze turk! Mon dieu,
le pauvre turk'." And he almost cried
in his rage.
Upon search, however, it divulged
that Napoleon was mistaken as to the
identity of the vandal. He had, in his
Gaelic haste, overlooked the fact that
there were marks which indubitably
proved that a bear —and an enormous,
one, had committed the theft.
"Boy garrys," said Pat Malone, as he
crawled up on the hay, and surveyed the
s«ene of desolation by the misty light
that filtered through the cracks, "sure
'twas a cyclone that struck the place un
beknownst till us. Sure how did the
baste get in at all at all?"
They soon found the place, but wasted
no time in vain regrets. 'Each one who
was able to do so got his gun and the
party was soon on the easily found trail
of the daring specimen of the genus ursus.
About sunset they caught up with him —
just as he was finishing: the remains of
his feast. He was speedily dispatched
and the carcass carried to the camp.
"Holy baldheaded Moses." said Pat fer
vently, "we've got the torkeys annyhow—
hey. Oscar?" to the big Swede who walked
beside hhn with a haunch of bear on his
back. ' -
"Ja, ay tank so."
• * *
Yes? it was Christmas night—my first,
but by no means my last in the woods!
TJhe tables were spread—the feast of
"ros' bear" is in full swing. About the
table is a motley crowd. Americans, Irish
(where will one not find them?) French.
Swedes. Finns and the ever-present
Glengarry Scotchman. All enjoying the
one day of the long, tedious winter that
is given to the woodsman to celebrate as
suits his humor while in the woods.
"Ros" bear and p'sup—she batter dan
ros' bif 'lone Hah?"
"You bate —she's pufty good chewin'!"
assented a hearty Celtic voice; "Napoleon
savvies about puttin' on all th* trimmins,
he does."
"Pass down them prunes there—yer so
busy atin' ye Jiiink no one else wud like
a little snack himself," bawled a Glen
garry.
The feast is- over and all are in the
humor for telling of the days lpng ago—
the Scotchmen tell of the "wonderfu'
hauls in the' Nincissins and lluskoka
THE ST. PAUI, GLOBS, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1902.
wo-ods;" the Frenchmen tell in awed,
reminiscent whispers of the startling inci
dents they encountered in the drives on
"ze ole Restigouche or ze Miramachl in
eighty-fi'—by gar she was dandee!" and
the Scandinavians sit smoking their pipes
and seem content to let the others do the
talking; occasionally they nod their heads
as if by way of encouragement.
Soon Louis, upon whom the others have
been waiting to give the word, says "Sing
habitat song, Jules, ole fashion song—she
ees good." And In a loud but sweet voice
Jules very accommsdatingly sings:
"Une Grande Piqnique! Dne Grande Piq
nique!
Lak' tonder ze ocean ro'rl
Blow lak' noting I never see.
Blow lak' ze Diable makin' grande tour!
Hear ze win* on ze be-eg pine tr-ree!
A salvo of-"se bon," "great," "yust fine"
and "fioine" greeted this effort, stirring
the others to try their luck with voices
hoarse from swearing at horses and "hal
looing" through the density of the forest;
and in a moment the rude but stirring
notes of a hearty "Come-all-ye" is mak
ing the dust fall from the rafters as
eighty lusty throats swell the chorus.
* * *
It is a fine thing to be a good singer,
but the pride of the woodsman is to be a
good dancer. So it is not long till they all
adjourn to the big shanty and the benches
are cleared away, and nothing is left on
Ihe floor but the great stove and the pile
of green maple wood that surrounds it on
all &ides.
Louis tells us that Napoleon "he play
on ze fid' lak' ze dcv'," and after Napoleon
comes with the instrument we are con
strained to believe him. Surely it must
have taken years and years of unremitting
practice to be able to extract from the
violin the series of shrieks and wails that
the Frenchman found within its bright,
brown body. He has tuneQ it up and an
nounces that he is ready.
"Play ole fashion reel," said Louis, "she
ver' good."
They choose their "ladies" and-then the
ball is opened. He plays the low, mellow
notes of the "Elfin Waltz," a favorite
with the lumberjack, in a quavering way
that makes the chills run up and down
one's spine; and with a celerity that is
wonderful they glide about the floor to
its seductive strains.
"Aw, sure." said one of the Irishmen, as
they stopped for breath and Napoleon put
some "ros' on de bow," *"Oi don't loike
that 'Infidel Waltz' at all at all—play
something more quick and divvlish. Sure,
Now, 'The Oirish Washwoman' is fioine
to jig to. Eh?"
The company are nothing loath, and
soon the nimble-footed son of Erin is cut
ting capers about the floor—jumping in the
air to see how many times he can crack
his heels together before touching the
floor, and all such antics so dear to the
big heart of the unsophisticated lumber
men. He is complimented very highly, and
then Louis announces that "ze whisk —she
be bring—an' ze hot wattaire, ya! an' ze
suguire!"
Again the fire of the old Cloquet days
is strong upon me—it flows through my
veins like Chian wine and will not be
stilled!
Again through the fretted aisles of fancy
I follow the swaying figures as they whirl
with liquor-accelerated speed through the
mazes of the dance with rude jest and
hearty guffaw! I see some long, lean,
lanky red-shirted son of far-off Glengarry
open the door of the great stove and the
lurid light from the fierce fire beats upon
his red hair, ruddy face and freckled, hairy
hands. From across the room there comes
an expectoration of huge dimensions and
lands, with the accurate aim that comes
of long practice, fairly upon his hand. The
incident is greeted with a general laugh
as he fruitlessly looks for the culprit.
"Heap on more wood, the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will;
We'll keep our Christmas merry still!"
He takes large sticks of the green maple
and tosses them into the Hungry may? of
the stove, and as they strike the fire they
hiss and steam and spit as though for very
spite. Then he closes the door and the
only light is that of the smoky lamps as
they shed their sickly radiance in a grudg
ing manner over the joyous Bacchanalian
scene.
Wilder and faster the fun waxes and
someone suggests that a kicking bout be
started —Jules St. Oroix is the acknoledged
champion in this respect, every winter he
has held his own against all-comers—they
all wonder if there is no newcomer this
year who will wrest from him the laurels
he has worn so long.
A space is cleared and Jules takes the
lead. He kicks very cautiously, as is his
wont —to lead the new ones on. They are
easily known. Several who take a pride
in this accomplishment In this respect
step forward, little aware that the man
whom they are about to compete with is
the champion of the famous Pierre le
Bouche district in far-off beloved "Xebec."
As they register their kicks Jules always
lands about an inch above the last mark
—so as to not discourse thjhn. At last
but one man is lefl^-aTall and lanky son
of Norway. —
"Ay skol tank et gpin' bane porty tight
keckin*," remarked one-'of the friends of.
the Scandinavian. The J competitors wise
ly say nothing—for the first time In his
history Jules is a Httl© mite afraid that
his prowess is not equal: to the occasion.
The stolid expression t qf the Norwegian
denotes nothing affirmative orTiiegative.
Higher and higher g£ow me marks of
each. The Norwegian with noncommittal
nonchalance equals" every scratch made by
Jules, who with grim defiance in his facs
sees plainly that, the efforts of the other
are not nearly as laborqd.as his own.
"Seven feet two inches!" calls the ref
eree. "Jules, you'll haye to dust to beat
the Norske."
"Seven feet four an*'a half—come on,
Ole!"
Up they went till the-Norwegian made
the phenomenal kick of seven feet nine
and a quarter. Nothing daunted, Jules,
though he knew well he would never
• make it, essayed to eqfcal It and fell flat
upon his back. Though cheered on by his
friends, he. would riot try again,, but
walked over to the Norwegian and held
out his hand without a word —the other
took it as silently. He knew what, it was
for a strong man like Jules to acknowledge
another his peer. Thus it was that for
the first time in his thirty^eight years' of
life that Jules yielded up the palm to an
other in his beloved sport. It is told of
in awed whispers after the men are
through work in the evenings even to this
day.
To cover up Jules' mortification they
plurged still farther and wilder into tho
sport of the evening. _
Pat Malone got upon the table, which
had been placed in the center of the floor,
and sang.
"We speak of a merry Christmas,
And many a happy New Year;
But each in his heart is thinking
Of those that are not here."
He managed to sing the verse through
and then his memory failing him he was
hustled from the throne and another,
mounted it whose mind was more reten
tive.
"Plaintee tarn' till morn'," said Louie,
and the whiskey juar was placed upon the
table, each man with a tin cup from the
kitchen, and the revellings degenerated
into an orgie that would tell the next
morning.
Napoleon warned them to not drink too
much.
"When yo' come to me fo' ze cup* cpff'
an' ze col' towl yo' fin' hout wat I tol'
yo'. Savvy?',''
MUSIC AND DOMESTIC
PEACE WERE INCOMPATIBLE
Three Pretty Song Writers Who Sang of
Home Lost Their Husbands.
Three young woman song writers of In
dianapolis, the eldest only twenty-two,
have had romantic careers, more remarka
ble than any set forth in their songs.
Before their marriage their names were
Miss Elsie Lowry, Miss Marion Barrack
man and Miss Maebelle Hufford.
These young women live within a
stone's throw of each other, and yet they
have never met.
Each eloped after a rapid teourtship.
Each selected for a husband a man
younger than herself.
Each separated from her husband with
in a few months.
In each instance the ChieGreause of the
differences and the separation was the
wife's devotion to music. .T r
It is sad to record that' ;the authors of
such sentimental compositions as "Baby
Asleep," "I Love No Other Like My Cab
in Home," "She__ Has Found, a Place in
Her Heart for Me," "Sleep. Baby. Sleep,"
/'The Old Trundle Bed," '.'He and I" and
'other sentimental and 'domestic ditties
should have personal experiences that be-
lied their songs.
The only consolation for those who love
the romantic Js found in the experiences
of Mrs. Elsie Lory Phillips, who became
reconciled to her husband "through ..the
same agency that .caused them to sepa
rate —one of her own 'songs.
Her marriage to Howard Phillips was
a runaway one in a double sense. Both
her parents and his objected to the. roa^eh,.
because she was but twenty and Howard:
was only eighteen; So-the-yotmg!people
hired a horse and buggy and started'^or'.
ah obliging justice of the peace. r Tn?'trap/
broke down and th£ horse ran away 5. Forr
a time it seemed that"a funeral •Vfas "more
imminent than a wedding, but the pair
escaped with slight injuries and.carried
out their programme.
Mrs. Phillips proved a better, composer
than housekeeper, and the boy husband
didn't like it. Moreover, he was jealous
of his wife's devotion to her music, and
they separated.
They really did love- each .other, arid
true to her instinct Mrs. Phillips ex
pressed her misery and unhappiness in a
song. He happened to be passing the
home one night and heiird her singing the
plaintive ballad. He was so affected that
he immediately entered and clasped her
to his arms, and now everything is lovely.
Mrs. Phillips has been told' that the
song would make her a smalt fortune, but
she declares that it shall never be pub
lished. She holds it sacred.
Marion Barr&ckman made her greatest
success when she set to music James
Whitcomb Riley's "The Old Trundle
Bed," which has gained great popularity
in the middle West. Four days before she
THB^GtOBE
=qiviEs
GREEN
TRADING
STAMPS
To all city subscribers making
payment, and* double the number
of stamps for payments in advance
ASK THE COLLECTOR
\ CASH WANT ADS.
Also iget the little green stamps
■ CALL AT THEIOFFICE
sent the song to a publisher she eloped
with Raymond Barth.
The song was far more successful than
her marriage. Whether domesticity
quenched the fires of musical inspiration,
or her personal experience made it im
possible for her to compose music, is a
moot question. Certain it is that 'the pub
lishers to whom she submitted her efforts
declared that the music of Mrs. Barth
lacked the .rhythm and swing that had
distinguished the compositions of Miss
Barrackman. She applied for a divorce
and her husband was not unwilling that
It should be granted, so last June the
court made her Marion Barrackman
again, and the first song she wrote after
she secured her decree was immediately
accepted,
Miss Maebelle Hufford was a "co-ed" at
Ann Arbor when she wrote the "Ann Ar
bor TworiStep," which has had a great
success. "Her romance began in a class
room and it progressed with a rapidity
faster than any known musical move
ment.
Edward Johnson was the young—man
who gained her affections, but it is pos
sible that she would not have married
him had she not wanted to go to a dance.
Exit from the dormiio rv \ nd iorY i-tun'-.
The resourceful Mr. Johnson, &geif 21,
placed a painter's ladder against the win
dow, Miss Hufford descended and they
went to the ball. After that festivity
they sought a justice of the peace and
were married.
It was the same story—music and do
mestic peace, seemed incompatible—and
now Mrs. Johnson has sued for divorce.
Couldn't Stand Hustling.
In Harper's for January, Wu Ting
Fang, in his article on "Chinese and
Western Civilization," tells pf an Ameri
can who, having lived for a time in China,
was unable afterwards to endure life, in:
his own country:
"I had an American friend in China"/'
who died only a short tune ago?" sajss,
Mr. Wu. "The story of his life is rather
interesting. He went to China when
he was a young man. He learned, the
language of the country, and beeairie an
THIS WILL INTEREST
EVERY LADY IN ST. PAUL
Who desires to be attractive and good-looking. She who does not lacks an
Interest In herself that she should be ashamed of. Unless one's complexion
Is faultless, unless It is free from disfiguring pimples, blackheads, moth
patches and all other similar facial blemishes so common to women, sne
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a clear, spotless complexion, she cannot be and Is not considered good looKing
by any one. The famous complexion specialists.
Of 78 and 80 Fifth Avenue, New York City,
Have just arranged with MANNHECMER BROTHERS to show the Misses
Bell's celebrated Complexion Tonic to the ladies of St. Paul, and the sales
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cacy of the Complexion Tonic and its remarkable tonic effect on a skin cov
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Superfluous Hair on thi Face, Neck or Arms
Can be removed permanently by the Misses Bell's new discovery, KILL-ALT.-
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kills the root of the hair so that it will never return*. In order that every
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derful KILL-ALL-HAIR, and see for herself its wonderful effect, the sales
lady in MANNHEIMER BROS.' store at the toilet goods department will
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Ask the saleslady In Mannhelmer's to explain the merits of the Misses
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LA RENOVA, for restoring gray hair to its natural color; the Misses Bella
HAIR TONIC for removing dandrtfft and curing itching, scaly—and diseased
Bcalps; the Misses BelFfc SKIN FOOD, a daintily scented- ointment for use
before retiring, and the Misses Bell's LAMB'S WOOL SOAP, for the batfl
and toilet.
Don't forget to visit the toilet goods department and ask to see the
Misses Bell's Celebrated Toilet Preparations.
. * X^^ W Sixth and Robert Sis., St. Paul, Minn. - \
19
accomplished Chinese scholar. He adapt',
ed himself to the ways and habits of
those .among whom he had cast Jiis lot,
and thus became to all intents and pur
poses Chinese in his mode of life. After
spending the greater part of his life in
China, he made up his mind that ha
would pass the remainder of his daxs* in
the land of his birth, among the scenes
or his childhood. Accordingly, he left
China with no intention of returning. But
he reckoned without his host. No soon
er had" he found himself in New York
than the noise and bustle of the metropo
lis of the New World drove him
to distraction. He did not know k which
way to turn to find rest and .quiel, and
he took the earliest opportunity to go
t»ack to China. Thus it Is possible that
a man born and bred in strenuous Amer
ica may prefer the quiet surroundings of
China."
•- ."Goodness, Gertrude, what have you*
been doing to get up such an appetite?
Playing golf?'
--"No, mamma. I've been to two after-
I noon teas."—Philadelphia Bulletin.