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The Sisseton weekly standard. (Sisseton, Roberts County, S.D.) 1892-1929, December 21, 1906, Christmas Number, Image 15

Image and text provided by South Dakota State Historical Society – State Archives

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn99062049/1906-12-21/ed-1/seq-15/

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HEN Pierre Nadeau brought
blooming bride to the Itiver
Pachot, he was young and
strong, fresh from the lumber
of Lake St. John, lie had been
appointed wharf foreman in his new
home, and had grown old and gray as
time went on, until a small farm and
dwelling, bought with the fruits of his
toil, provided a shelter for his declining
Two sons had been born to the Na
fleaus, who, as they grew to manhood,
Went naturally to the lumber camps. Af
ter a time, however, attracted by promises
Df higher wages and cash payment, in lieu
of etore trade, they sought the growing
West. When they left their home they
were clad in provincial fashion when
they returned, on a visit, only, they were
clad In store clothes and radiant nock
wear, nnd they used strange English, such
R8 made the Pere Nadeau sick at heart.
iTinally, after unbridled depreciation of
the surroundings in which they were born
fcnd bred, they departed by schooner and
(Belting finally into the Orient were seen
bo more.
But their daughter Angeline remained
to them, brown of hair and eyes, the triin
aess of her supple form manifest despite
tie fashion of dress considered at that
early period becoming to the daughters of
eld France. The long, loose blouse, and
thort, homespun flannel kirtle, relics of a
Norman peasantry, which on other women
made them to appear squat, failed to hide
ier well rounded proportions and maiden
She had a sharp tongue, had this daugh
ter of the Nadeaus, and when she was
merry her laughter rang out like sleigh
belta in winter's frost. Sunday after
noon, when vespers were over, was the
time when she would exercise her sharp
wit when, with the other maids of the
hamlet she sought the lumber wharf to
Swap words of badinage with the lighter
ine», deal handlers and trimmers gathered
There were no frivolities 011 week days,
however, when Angeline milked the cows,
and made tasty butter for the Nadeau
table. This done she would seat herself
at the loom, which would ring out its
rapid click-clack to the push of her vig
orous foot, as it turned out its webs of
linen, flannel or catelonne, for village con
sumption. She was as quick with her
little hands and foot as with that biting,
scornful tongue of hers.
Every year, as the big ship Margaret
Pollock anchored off the shore for cargo,
Captain Locke would pay her a visit the
moment ho set foot on land. Clean
shaven, but for a fringe of fierce red whis
kers, his face was vast and lurid as the
setting sun. He wore broadcloth on such
occasions, with a beaver hat as high as an
ordinary chimney his shirt-front rivaling
In expanse his main t'gallant sail.
He always brought her a present, some
trifle picked up in a foreign port, which
be would donate in an offhand manner.
Sometimes the girl would kiss his gnarled
cheek, and he would clap her on the shoul
der softly with a hand which, clenched,
oould fell an ox.
One day the schooner Notre Dame des
Anges camn in, to load farmers' stuff, hav
ing been chartered for tliis purpose by a
black-browed man of thirty-five about,
who gave his name as Boisvert. He
swaggered to a certain extent, and was
dad in garments supposed to be of fash
ionable cut. and texture. The women
thought him handsome, but his eyes were
set rather close together for beauty, and
his nose, bent, and with a scar in the
concave section, gave to his face a sinister
expression. During the intervals of load
ing he sat much in tlio house of le pere
Nadeau, depreciating their surroundings.
His constant disparagements at length
took root in the girl's mind, and her en
vironment grew narrow and bald the more
he talked. He assailed the feminine fash
ions of the port, too so that when a
modiste drifted to the village from St.
Michcl, with steel engraved fashion plates
not three years of age, Angeline became
her first customer. One Sunday she went
to Aurch in a new gown, of bright color,
with a hat decked with red paper flowers,
and a ribbon at her neck of poppy hue.
•M. Boisvert was filled with admiration.
"How the boys would cast soft eyes at
yon hi St. Roch," he asured her with a
melting look.
"Go away, M. Boisvert," was her re
tort, but it was accompanied with an af
fected toss of her pretty head, which the
old Nadeau and his wife disliked, though
they could not just say why. So did
Olapha Oucllet. He had been a log job
ber, and having been successful in his
contracts, he had invested his capital in
a s»og farm in St. Angele, where his old
mother kept his house clean until such
time as Angeline would consent to be
oome the mistress. Alas for his hopes
the girl had of late become contemptuous
of the prospect.
"It's bad enough here by the sea, but
St. Angele, with nothing bur the big
woods to see—ball!"
"It's all that Boisvert,"' said Claphas
angrily. '"Octave Lavoie, the navigator,
•ays he has a wife and five children in
"It's false," snapped Angeline with
flashing eyes.
The Notre Dame sailed at length for
Quebec but the supreme content of Cla
phas and the old Nadeaus was but short
lived. But a few weeks had passed when
ahe returned to her old moorings, laden
•with wind-blown apples for sale or ex
change, with Boisvert, debonaire and cyn
ical as before, at his former post. Cap
tain Locke was in port at the time, and
took an instant and unconcealed dislike
to him.
One dark fall night, while the hum of
a coming easterly wind was heard in the
treea which overhung the river, the Notre
Dame des Anges swung round to the cur
rent, and slipped out seaward, with Ange
line seated, scared, and already repentant,
on a cabin locker.
There was consternation in the Nadeau
dwelling when tile morning light revealed
an empty nest in the old familiar attic,
from which she had never been absent for
a night since her cradle had been con
signed to the barn loft. Slu? had discard
ed her despised liou.se dress, of blouse and
flannel kirtle, woven by her own hands, of
striped purple and yellow. The sabot
shaped shoes had been tossed into cor
ner all her newer belongings she had
taken with her and the mother Nadeau
collected the despised truck and folding
them up, laid them carefully away. In
the sombre, inarticulate manner of the
peasant., they accepted their sorrow.
These were the early, undeveloped days
of the East, when the railroad and tele
graph were unknown east, of Quebec, and
but a bi-weekly mail, by horse and ca
leehe or sled, carried tidings of the out
side world. Once navigation closed, the
door was shut upon the dwellers in the
eastern hamlets bordering on the gulf. So
the snow fell in deep drifts, and the light
ers were pack-screwed high above the ice,
which rose and fell with the tides, their
masts looking ghostlike in the dark winter
nights. The once joyous fetes passed un
noticed by Pere Nadeau and his wife—
Christmas. New Year's Day—and they
sat alone and sileut, or went about their
daily tasks as best they might. Sometimes
the neighbors called, but while they spoke
of what was passing of the cut of logs,
of the prospect of a good year's shipping
to come, of Angeline they spoke no word.
When the summer tides flowed blue and
sparkling once more, Claphas Ouellet, em
barking his winter's cut of cordwood on
the schooner of the navigator, Octave La
voie. sailed for Quebec, returning after
an absence of a couple of weeks. He
stepped into the Nadeau dwelling casually
on his return.
"Well. Claphas." said the old man in
greeting, "your health is»ood?"
"Y'es, thanks."
"The cordwood sell well?"
"Not bad. Twenty-five shillings."
"See anything of my girl?"
"Is she well?"
"Yes. Works in a hotel."
"Hotel? Not with him. then?"
"No. She left him quick. He had his
own wife and family, same as Octave
"The accursed. Didn't speak of coming
"No. Well. I must go: the old mother
will be anxious by now for me. If she
comes, you will send me word, eh?"
"Yes, we will send you word, Claphas."
When the Margaret Pollock anchored
for cargo that, fall, and the news of An
geline's abduction was conveyed to Cap
tain Locke, his face grew purple with
fury, and he stormed so terribly on the
liarf that the hands, in their terror, hid
behind the deal piles, peeping round the
corners with scared faccs. From Octave,
the navigator, he extracted the news of
her present circumstances, and became
somewhat more calm, though still awful in
his frown.
I'or the second time since the flight of
Angeline, Christmas eve came round.
"We will go to church this year, my
"Yes, we will go."
Having prepared a store of kindling
wood against their return, they extin
guished their lamps, and locking the door,
deposited the key in a secret niche of the
porch, known to no outsider. As they
turned into the Kempt road, which like
a three-mile tunnel, by reason of the
spruce boughs which met and interlaced
overhead, led to the church, a faint, long
drawn wail from the opposite bank of the
river came to their ears.
"It is the horn of the mail driver," said
Pere Nadeau.
The church was aglow with the light of
many candles, set in temporary sconces,
on either side, and from the altar and the
deep box stoves wore like great rubies,
so hearty wore the fires of seasoned wood
which crackled within. In the choir loft,
fiddles wore being tuned, and as the ser
vice proceeded there rolled forth to their
accompaniment from the vigorous throats
of the young farmer choristers, the well
known carols of the season. Then the
priest from the rail of the altar spoke in
fatherly tones, and the duty of forgive
ness, even as we expect to be forgiven,
was his theme. Pere Nadeau touched
gently his wife's hand, as the words of the
preacher touched them both on a hidden,
quivering chord, and their old lips moved
in unison as they prayed.
The wind had arisen to a gale, as they
returned to their home, a fine, cutting
drift obscuring the sight but aa they
drew near, in a momentary lull in the
storm, a spark of light, twinkled forth for
an instant upon the snow. The Pere Na-
deau reined up, and crossed himself with
a trembling hand.
"What is wrong, my hasDacd?" asked
his wife.
"A light in our window," he said, in a
scared whisper. Then he heard a soft,
happy laugh, half smothered by her
shawl, and wondered.
"Drive on fast, my husband one per
son only knows the place in which we
hide the key."
he windows were ail alight when they
reached the porch, and from the pipe
which served as chimney, clouds of long,
feathery cinders from the fire of dry deal
ends llew hisjing into the whirling drift.
Then lie saw sleigh tracks, which came
to and turned from the door, and under
"The mail driver must have brought—
He brushed the snow from a window
pane, and looking in. saw Angeline dress
ed in her once discarded blouse and girtle
of purple and yellow—even the moccasins,
had come, bringing such happiness as he
had never dreamed could be his again.
He led the old mare to her stall, and
as he rubbed down her shaggy coat he re
called the old. old parable, grandest of
all the Book. The poetry of the story, he
could not grasp, of course, any more than
he could realize the glory of the antithe
sis. with which it ended but the words
came to him, even in the voice of the
wind, as it moaned in the eaves or round
the corners and gables of the barn, and
he uttered them in a voice which broke
with the very weight of his joy,
"l'or this my child was dead and is
alive again, was lost and is found."—
Montreal Star.
They Should Bo Such a* Will Do
light Ilia Vontliful Heart.
What shall be said of that blundering
kindness of homo folks that considers giv
ing the boy only presents of such things
as he actually needs? It is an outrage
upon the spirit of Christmas to present
him with new shoes, ties, handkerchiefs—
something that he knows he will get any
way—when his sleeping and waking
dreams for weeks before have been tilled
with visions of tops, balls, guns and
magic lanterns. The most beautiful knit
ted muffler woman's fingers ever construct
ed cannot compare wiLh a jackknife with
four blades and a cork-screw attachment,
when exhibited over the back fence to a
neighbor boy 011 Christmas morning. Very
soon after the days of kilts a boy reaches
the age when he yearns with his whole
soul after any toy or contrivance that
will test his muscular skill or endurance.
At this age an appropriate present would
be a rawhide or rope lariat, such as is
used by the Buffalo Bill riders. A pair
of hand or arm stilts will be received with
equal favor, and in the same category
conies a new fishing rod, snow shoes, ten
nis racket, golf clubs, a good bell, lamp
or cyclometer for his wheel, or even a live
pet, a new dog, a pair of rabbits or guinea
pigs—something that he can pet and train
for all his own.—Woman's Home Com
The llewt Clirlxtninn Preiiciit.
The best of all gifts at the present time
is yourself. Make yourself in some way
more pleasant and helpful to others. You
may have been neglectful of them bo
mindful henceforth. You may be quick
in temper and have spoken hastily put
on restraint and speak kindly now. Re
strain all evil habits and make yourself a
joy and a help to others. They will bless
you.—United Presbyterian.
5he Knew.
Sunday School Teacher (illustrating
the workings of conscience)—-What is it,
children, that makes you feel uncomfort
able when you have eaten all your Christ
mas candy and not given any of it to your
little friends who had none of their own?
Little Ethel Beenthere—Tumach-ache,
How to Amuse l:e Chtiurca Hiirlii'.
the lluliuuys.
games for the chil
dren are as neces
sary as a iUi 11 pud
ding, and the fol
lowing wiil please I
them and are w.'!- I
come to 111 a 11
grown-ups, says the
Chicago Tribune
Santa I'laus Pack.
—All form in line
and march to a
lively strain on the
piano to the next
room, where a table
holds the contents of Santa Claus' park.
They look at every object on the table
and then inarch back. The company now
divides in half, one-half leaving the room,
the table and its contents having been
covered. Those remaining choose sonv
object which they remember seeing: tIk
piano begins to play again and the others
return. The leader gives to the reluming
party a word which rhymes with the ob
ject chosen. Thus, if it was a ball, he
might mention the word "hall." The re
turning party now proceed to guess what
object has been chosen, and they express
their guess by acting in pantomime. They
do not all suggest the object in the same
way, but each according to his individual
an a a re
object they will guess. If wrong they go
out for another trial and so 011 until
guessed, when the other half of the com
pany goes out, and they remain and select
the object for the others to guess.
Hiding the Mistletoe.— All form in line,
single file, and march about the room or
several rooms until the music slops. They
then proceed to hunt the mistletoe, which
the leader carried in his hand and con
cealed somewhere during the march. The
finder must effect return to the starting
point without being touched by the leader.
Santa Clans' Sleigh.—Six girls an har
nessed to a little sleigh or sled, and the
white ribbon reins are held by a seventh.
The sled is filled with small parcels in
colored papers containing Christmas
crackers or any trifles as favors. The party
goes round the room several times, dis
pensing the favors 1o the young men, who
proceed to select partners and dance until
a signal from the leader calls all to march
around the room and back to their places.
Snowball.—A large white ball of tissue
paper is suspended well out of the way of
bric-n-brac. The young girls take turns
at shooting at this ball with a small rub
ber ball. When hit with sufficient force
it breaks nnd out falls a shower of small
er white balls, perhaps popcorn balls,
which are gathered and presented as fav
ors for the next march or dance. As
there should lie only about half as many
balls as there arc- couples dancing, this
will cause a scramble among the small
boys who gather them up and who, for
fair dealing, should b- kept behind a cer
tain line until the ball receives the shot
that bursts it.
Time for tlrxolvln^ In l) tin* !ie*»
You t'ati.
New Year's is upon us again. Lot
take up the line of march ,-nd make the
best progress we can through another
year. Humanity does not shape an edify
ing course. Day after day, year after
year, it blunders along, as any day's his
tory spelt out in the newspaper will at
test. To blunder along seems to be about
the best the best of us can do, cither a*
individuals or as a nation. It is not
ideal, but it will answer, if so be we can
keep pointed in the right direction and
proceed in a sagacious spiril. sharing the
road with the rest of the folks and not
less compassionate of their deviation than
of our own. The greatest goals that men
have reached they have reached by being
stronger than their mistakes. So it was
will Lincoln so with Washington. The
great difference between wayfarers, be
sides the disparity in locomotive power, is
that some manage to hold to the right di
rection and to maintain in spite of blun
ders the essential spiril. That sort inva
riably get somewhere where it is worth
while to arrive. For the others, speed is
nothing if the direction is not right. And
to carry along a great load of baggage
is far less advantageous than it: might be
if our job was a iieniinneut job, and if
every man of us was not. under con!ret lo
drop every shred he has and run when
ever his hour strikes.-—Harper's Weekly.
ChriNtiiutM Advice for it iliiomiire.
Although handicapped by your eiruni
stances, it. is not impossible for you lo
extract some comfort from Christmas
One of the best rules is not lo allow your
self to think about your condition. You
would gladly swap places and stomachs
with some poor devil who has to earn his
own living, but do not dwell upon this.
Instead, ascertain the address of some
misguided philanthropist who is in the
habit of giving a Chrislmas dinner to a
lot of ragamuffins, (id him to
to the place and view the moving sjecin
cle. He will be glad to have you see it.
and it will be a source of considerable
amusement to you. Then, after you have
been driven home, you can estimate the'
cost per plate and the number fed. nnd I
easily ascertain how raiilli you have saved
by not doing the same thing. This will I
cast a gentle glow over the remainder of
your holiday and help you !o enjo.v what
otherwise might, be a cheerless Chnstmas.
I-et Her l'nsn.
The mistletoe above the door
Expectant swains were viewing.
A maid passed ihrongh, lint she was more
Than thirty. Nothin' doing:
Philadelphia Press.
\olhlng Ventured, \otliing Knincil.
Papa—Santa Ch.us may think you're
greedy if you hang up both your stock
ings and may not loa-se you anything.
Bertie—Hub! IIo won't know they're
both mine he'd think I'm twins.
King nut in joy, chiming bolls!
For in yoar melody there dwell:!
1 he lmisie gt:', of Christ:nas-t idc,
»n every heart list one far and wide.
Alio resv lips, with laughter sweet,
1 he happy songs uf lil'e repeat—
liing out hi Joy!
King nui in h|n\ chiming bells',
tor your clear voice of patience toll*
lo waiting hearts who promise yieljs
No golden fruii of harvest Mold's.
"huso garnered grain of tolling hand
l.ies heaped tmon a barren land-
King out in hope
King out in grief. O --himing bells
or in your tremhling echo dwells
I'o saddened hearts a ihonght «f old,
A picture framed in meniory's gold,
A vanished face beneath the snow,
A dream of life's sweet long ago—
King out. In grief I
King out in eheer, O chiming hells!
For in your penis a promise dwells
To listening hearts that strive to heaF
I'he future's voice of hope and oheer
For love and Joy will have their birth
As snowdrops spring from Icy earth—
King out In eheer
King out in pence, chiming bells
I* or Christ mas-1 ide a message tells
To eager souls that bravely wait.
And loyal hearts too strong for fate
To crush lo earth--oh. listen, then:
Tis "IVace on earth, good will to men"—-
King out In peace
Clara l.ee l'uckette, In Washington Tost.
In the darkness ahead (here were occa
sional flares of red flames, and from them
ascended long, comet-like tracks of light
I hut flashed into momentary blazes. The
boom ol the cannon, the wierd shrieking
of (he shells and their sharp explosion
blended in one wild devil's concert.
The boy from Maine drew back quickly
from the muzzle of the starboard gun No.
1 of (lie I'nilcd Stales gunboat Mackinaw.
The old gunner standing rigid drew tho
lanyard toward himself with a sudden
jerk. There was a deafening roar and a
cloud of choking smoke enveloped the gun
crew. Another shell had been sent into
til" solid earthworks of Fort Fisher.
'1 he boy from Maine rushed forward
through I lie smoke and (hrust the clean
ing rod into the muzzle of the gun. An
other of (he crew dashed a pailfull of
waler over the long stool tube. The gun
was reloaded and another shell waff hurl
ed at Ihe spurts of flame ahead. They
had been doing this at intervals since the
early afternoon, and now it was almost
midnight—midnight of Christmas eve,
"Cease firing,'' came a hoarse order
out of the dark. The gun crew of No. 1
flung themselves down on the sloppy deck
with audible sighs of relief. The devil's
concert did not abate ioliceably. The
remaining vessels of Ihe Federal fleet
were still exchanging compliments with
Fort Fisher.
The old gunner quickly filled his pipe,
and the glow from the bowl half illumin
ed his wrinkled face now and then.
"Put's me in mind of a Christmas eve
I spent at the mines in Ciliforny," ho
remarked, "only it's jut a mile worse."
"Don't talk aboul Chrislmas," said one
of the crew in a husky voice. "I left
three children at home. They are in bed
now and three little stockings are hanging
above the fireplace same as always, I
hope. The wife is silling up a while may
be, a thinking of me or maybe saying a
bit of a prayer. Don't like lo think of it
when thing.-, are so dubious. What are
you thinking about. Fritz?"
"Of the Valerland- some." replied an
unmistakable accent. "Vat is the matter
mi! the boy? lie is always talking be
The boy beard nothing. He sprawled
on Ihe deck with his head on one arm.
The smell of the pine trees and Ihe odor
of boiling maple sap was in his nostrils,
lie was many hundreds of miles away
from 111" Mackinaw, off Fort Fisher, hack
in (lie Maine woods with a sugaring party.
The smoke of tic pine-knot fire was ris
ing slowly and Ihe golden brown syrup
hissed and bubbled in Ihe kettles. Merry
little shrieks of laughter rang in his ears.
She was I hero. Ihe pink and white of her
face so prettily emphasized by the mink
tippet. How absurdly small I hose little
red milieus seemed in comparison wiLh.
his! How blue her eyes wen There
was no one looking—just one kiss on
those lips created solely for the purpose—
"Starboard batleries commence firing!"
came the hoarse and relentless order from
the darkness-.
A none too gentle kick brought the
boy back to the Mackinaw, bnt her face
looked at him for an instant out of the
gloom. Starboard gun No. 1 again added
its voice lo the devil's chorus.
The sky began to turn from black to
gray. "A Christmas present," said the
gunner grimly as he jerked the lanyard.
The Mymllc Miwlletoe.
For many generations after the last
Druid was dust I lie mistletoe had iLs vo
taries. The plant had almost every med
ical properly, according to early physi
cians. It was believed to be a remedy
for all ills, physical, mental nad senti
ment ?!. In pagan days it was dedicated
to Olwen. 'he Celtic Venus, and through
the ages the plant and the tender passion
wore rather intimately entwined, says the
Cineiuiinti Kiniuirer. Kissing beneath it
began so far back in hislory that no one
has ever attempted to trace the custom
to its youth.
Johnny (on Christmas eve)—Mamma,
can't you give the baby something to
innke him sleep to-night?
a m: a—Why, Johnny?
Johnny—P.ei-ause if Santa Claus hear*
him yelling, he might think we're all joat
as had.—Current Literature.
at a C'onclti*loii.
To.nmy—Santa Claus is coming to din
ner to-nigh!.
I'lsie—(h! I low do you know?
Tommy- -Ma told me a white-haired old
ge.idem,m was coming and w-i'A kavj
be very good.
oil is hi UK Pomp.
I low worldly pride kin t.ass away,
l's takln' foh my tex'.
Wuat Is ii Christmas tree one day
Is klndlln' wood de nex\
—Washington 8tu

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