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FRANK HARBEN’S CHRISTMAS DAY.
HEN and where will you find a livelier
set of boys on Christmas day, at a
prominent street corner in a little coun
try town ? Such a crowd of boys—
characteristic boys, that were verily
boys in all their manners, noise and an
tics—were gathered around the main
street corner, the arena for their
youthful exploits, in a certain little
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village on a certain Christmas day, as fresh
and sweet in memory as the fragrant breath of
yesterday’s rose. They popped firecrackers, they
blew Christmas horns, they guyed each other with
much display of boyish wit, they jauntily accosted
every passing stranger, and laughed till they al
most fell down, when one of their number, more
boisterous and forward than the others, received
in answer to one of his sallies to a passer-by, a
humorous and cutting reply that withered him into
a stammering hush. Just then, another boy who
might be described by a word which we believe
Webster does not recognize, but which fits him so
well that we hazard classical criticism, and call him
an “uppity” boy, threw a cannon cracker into
the air with a great flourish, and as its boom, shook
the atmosphere around, he gave a glance up the
street and began to sing in a hilarious manner:
“A black cloud’s a visin’—
I think it’s goin’ to rain— ’’
but he didn’t have time to finish his rhyme and
tell that it was nothing but some colored boys
“coming down the lane,” for he was interrupted
by an earnest, impatient voice:
“ Stop, Harry Stout I Why do you want to do
that way?”
“Just because I want to. What have you got to
do with it, Frank Harben?”
“Oh, well,” replied Frank; “I have nothing
special to do with it, but I can’t see why you want
to make such an allusion as that.”
“’Lusion, nothing! I was jujst announcing to the
crowd that a black cloud was risin’, or in other
words, that a crowd of negroes was coming down
the street.”
“Os course we know what you wanted to do,
but why do you want to allude to them in that
sarcastic way? How would you like for some negro
boy to announce the approach of our crowd of
white boys by such a remark?”
“I wouldn’t like it at all!” said Harry. We are
white folks and they are ‘ negroes, ’ as you call them.
That’s difference enough. You must believe in
social equality, don’t you?”
“No,” replied Frank, his face reddening, his
eyes kindling, and his voice growing more earnest,
“I believe in no such thing! My dead father was
as brave and true a Southern gentleman as ever
lived. And he taught me that it was as much
our duty to do our duty to our inferiors as to our
superiors, or to any one else. He often said to
me. ‘Frank, my son, duty is duty, and right is
right. Be sure that you always act a true gentle
man toward everybody, in all things.’ Now, I
tell you, Harry, I love my father’s memory, and I
honor his teaching, and I don’t feel like it is ihe
part of a true gentleman to make such wilfully
sarcastic allusions to a crowd of negroes, simplv
because they are ignorant and black. Think awhile,
and see if you don’t agree with me.”
“Oh, my goodness me!” replied Harry, relaxing
almost into a smile; “then you are a ‘true gentle
man’, are you?”
“Well, I don’t claim that much for myself yet,
I reckon, but I am trying to grow in that direction
just as fast as I can.”
And with these good-natured, but still earnest
words, Frank Harben turned and walked slowly
d’.wn the street. And there followed after him a
perfect fusillade of voices: “Good-bye, old man!
Come back and touch off this cannon, smarty!”
“Good-bye, ‘true gentlemen’! where are you go
ing’” . , , , _,.j
The Golden Age for December 20, 1906.
By WM. D. UPSHAW
“I am going to see Uncle Frank. Good-bye, boys.
T hope, I wish for you all a happy Christmas
day.”
Frank Harben was the namesake of his Uncle
Frank, his father’s aged, invalid brother. From
little Frank’s infancy his uncle had loved him, as
one who was named for him, and as a grave gen
tlemanly boy, such as the above street conversation
showed him to be. And Frank had loved his uncle
as one whose name he gladly bore, and as his fath
er’s honored and only brother. And now, at the
age of fourteen, Frank’s nature was just begin
ning to appreciate the condition, the great heart,
and the firm, yet gentle tenderness of his invalid
uncle’s nature. He had read much that was good
for a boy of his age, and although he could enjoy
fun and laugh as loud and merrily as any boy, he
was yet given to moods thoughtful beyond his
years.
And so it was with a glad heart that Uncle
Frank heard his nephew’s well-known knock, and
young Frank heard his uncle’s loved voice, “Come
in, my boy, come in.” He entered and looked pleas
antly and steadily at his uncle’s patient face.
“And what of the day, Frank, since you rushed
in and awoke my old heart this morning with your
cheery ‘Christmas gift, Uncle Frank! and a happy
Christmas too!’ Ah, my boy, it has been a happy
one thus far. Though I’ve been alone, I was not
alone. What sweet communion has been mine!”
“Oh, well, Uncle Frank, I’m tired! I have been
out yonder in the street with a crowd of boys.
I like to have fun and a big time sometimes, but
somehow, it don’t seem just right to me, to spend
Christmas day popping firecrackers, blowing horns,
and indulging in every other wild freak that boys
can think of. T got tired of it, and of their ‘smart
talk,’ and felt like I wanted to get away from
the noise and sinful foolishness, and come down
here and talk with you, or, rather, have you to talk
to me.”
The old man’s face brightened, and happy joy
was in his voice: “I’m so glad, my Frank, I’m
so glad! And what will you have me .to talk
about ?”
“Talk to me about Christmas day, Uncle Frank,
and tell me how you can be so happy today when
you are so old. pain-racked and helpless.”
“Why, Frank, outside and through my window
the Christmas sun shines with the balmy bright
ness of June. But if it did not shine at all, and if
the windstorm and rain beat with darkness and
fury outside, there would still be sunshine in my
heart; for Christ is there, Jesus, my blessed Re
deemer. 0, desolate must be the heart and hungry
and unsatisfied the soul, that cannot at all times,
and especially as a solace in adversity, feed on
the manna of Heaven!”
Frank leaned forward with interested and won
dering eyes, moved his chair a little nearer his
uncle’s bed, his manly young face beaming, and
said in his earnest, sweet voice:
“Go on, Uncle Frank, go on! I just feel like I
could sit here and listen to you talk always!”
The dear old man’s face brightened more and
more, and a tremor was in his voice as he said:
“I am so glad, my dear boy, that you love to
listen, and I’m so glad, too, you feel that the un
seemly hilarity and dissipation of those thought
less boys on the street is not the proper manner
in which to spend Christmas day. Sweet day! in
commemoration of the birth of Him whose life,
death and teaching's have 'been a hundred-fold more
to the happiness, the blessed inspiration and puri
fication, the general uplifting of mankind and the
emancipation of woman than all things else beside.
Well, may we sing with raptured souls:
“Joy to the world-—the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King!
Let every heart prepare Him room.
And heaven and nature sing’
“Oh, that it were joy to the whole world! Oh,
that weak men and ■women with weak hearts and
weak natures, who know not how to control them
selves, would receive and lovingly obey the true
King! Oh, that He might have room and reign
supreme in every heart, and that all the people,
every member of this great family in our own
favored land and ‘every kindred, every tribe on
this terrestial ball,’ might join this day with
Heaven and nature in singing:
“ ‘To him all majesty ascribe
And crown him Lord of all.’
“Surely only those ‘will refuse to sing, who
never knew our God.’ God pity those who cannot
sing because they do not know Him!
“Frank, my dear boy, when I feel the Heavenly
music ringing in my own heart today, and remem
ber that you and all the world who are not Chris
tians cannot feel and hear it, nor understand it,
I feel so anxious about you, and wish that you could
feel and hear this music, too. Knowing your thirst
for knowledge and your fondness for reading (and
I am heartily glad of these), let me urge you, as
one who has traveled over the long and eventful
path and seen and felt the dangers lurking on every
side, oh, let me urge you to be careful of what you
read!
“Be not enticed by beautiful language to follow
any writer, take into your mind and heart any
pernicious thought that would reflect upon or deny
the truth of your good father’s Bible, your loving
uncle ’s Bible, the Christ of their blessed redemption
and glorious hope, the Christ of this sweet and
blessed day!
“I am an old man now. The sun of my life is
slowly, but surely, setting, but, thank God, the
clouds about it are a. pillow of golden fire guiding
me through the River of Death, to the happy land
of my Father’s promise. My sun is sweetly set
ting, but it is setting to rise again!
“Oh! shun, as you would shun the serpent’s
deadly bite, the skeptic’s cold thought and the
infidel’s merciless hand that would wrench from
me that golden staff which supports my feeble steps
as I totter toward the grave; the hand that would
blot out, through all leternify, the light that robs
the 'waiting tomb of its darkness and its gloom, the
light that glorifies that River whose waters my
feet are almost touching, and on whose crystal
bosom I will soon be basking while I catch the an
gelic music from the Beautiful Shore, as it floats
on celestial waves and rings in Heavenly strains
through my enraptured soul!
“Oh! Jesus, who didst redeem me from a life of
wickedness and from an eternal death—Jesus who
has been my stay and comfort through so many
seas of suffering and sorrow—Jesus who now stands
with smiling face and beckoning hands, inviting
me up to that Throne from whence He let down
into my heart this steadfast anchor of Eternal
Hope—oh! blessed Redeemer, how precious thou
art to my heart this hour!
‘ ‘ Frank, my dear boy,, oh! that my Savior wore
your Savior, too! ’ ’
During Uncle Frank’s fervid outburst from his
heart that felt so much, his voice, usually weak,
grew in mellow strength and fervor, and when ne
finished, his eyes were filled with tears. His young
nephew hardly moved the while, listening with
rapt attention and much emotion. Frank thought
he could see the Heavenly light of which his dear
old uncle had so confidently spoken, even then
breaking upon his aged face. With throbbing
heart and tearful eyes, he said:
“0, Uncle Frank, I am so wicked! I want to
be a Christian, too. I want to be happy like you
are now.”
“Thank God!” said his uncle; “if you really
wish it, and you rightly desire it, God will make
you one,”
(Concluded on page 13).