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STMAS.18M
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§54; 4? u , w X Waiting sat llttte new on chairs. three dolls for
Christmas
day:
Aod tfcey wondered, wIwq she ww thon, ^
What the little girl would say.
i
They hoped that the nursery life was gay .
Aad they hoped that they would had
The little girt often plnyed with dolto;
Aad they hoped that she wan kind.
Wear by sat an old doll neatly dressed
In n new frock, black and red:
She smiled at the French doila-“As to that,
Don't feel afraid." the said.
We new dolls turned their wnxen heads.
Aad looked with a haughty stare.
That a doll was sitting there.
w 01k we're not in the least afraid,” said one.
T “We are quite too fine and new;
(' Dirt perhaps you yourself will find that now
She will scarcely caro for you. ”
L The aid doll shook her head and smiled.
, Bhe smiled, although she knew
K Her plaster nose was almost gone.
je And her cheeks were faded, too.
r And now It was day; In came the child.
;■ And there, all gay and bright.
Sat three now dolls In little chairs—
if It was a lovely sight.
'• She praised their curls, and noticed, too
, How finely they wero dressed;
But the old doll allthe while was held
’ Clasped close against her breast.
-
.
—Knthnrlno Pyle, In St Nicholas.
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1 !i T evening the WA8 last on of
tat the Van Decker girls gave their
Fear party. At eight o'clock that
big Mias Msrgarethe Van Decker
I before the glaaa in the front
Aar at the old Van Deeker house
mlng her gloves. She was abort if
plump |m»ot and almost eighteen, she and made
^people exactly pretty
think she was, but Miss
Decker, or Meg, as she was fa¬
irly called, had a if grievance,
wouldn't care it were anybody
|V* getting she was the saying, best of “but he and is last al
I me.
When he wished me ‘A Happy
Tear’ first he bet a pound of
ha would do it this year. Why,
link,” continued this small pet
la the snapped the last button
its buttonhole, “he has said
p Sew Year!' to me first every
(hoe I was twelve years old. It
fitly to care, but he does it to
SM; he knows I mean to get
; of him, and then forget it
»»
i little none which was inclined to
went np with a sniff as Meg
Out. her red skirts and looked
»r shoulder at the place where
Uia would have been if she had
aid enough to wear one. “And
are so conceited, anyway!" she
toad. “If we didn't take pains
■twit them ouoe in awhile they
I* he simply unendurable, K\
not be first this time, for I
,* she added, firmly, “that when
I once made np my mind to do a
J can carry it out as well as Al
DlHr or anybody else in the
IpMmr Mag! Auttlly.'' Harry A called
pn, |tm up, my!"
Decker. “The boys will be
we must be ready
hnm *
k Amy, we shall be the last
mat,” aad Meg gave another
ir crinkly brown hair, flew
and landed with a skip aad
JS P a cker waa one of the Van
in sins, and no was Amy, and
and all the rest
of the younger gener
Deckers who lived at
family formed the
art at the small suburban
aad quite ruled it in a ao
'mdeed. at this little party
who was not
did not expect to be a
of 'W there were
i kvfi lea hr Be jey fch adwnf be WiaM;
Cr St * p ieg ffie fcfW sonjs S1B4S» , /■ •• r &
Jr wfcitfc we ^UMweer "|k eeo-Wbyea/is h
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bribe Hk h sweets « lew,^ well ml mv A
rime
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none gayer than this leap-year dance,
and as the girls, after it was over, were
going upstairs Amy said: “Oh, I wish
this weren’t Saturday night—I don’t
wan’t to go home—I know I shall never
have another waltz like that last one
with Al.”
The room was in full chatter, for all
the girls were
crowded into it,
trying to find
their wraps. But
high above the
babel' rose the
voice of Miss
Sarab. “Girls,
you must hurry:
It’s twenty min¬
utes to
now. and Aunt
Annie said if
grandma let us
have the party
here we must all
be home and in
onr beds at
twelve. After
twelve it’s the
Sabbath.”
“Where’s my
other gaiter?" ‘I’ve
cried Meg.
got to see Al
home myself be
fore Sunday
morning. Car¬
riages?" she con¬
tinued, “did you
girls all engage
carriages? I did¬
n't. It doesn’t
pay just to take
Al round the cor¬
ner. Couldn’t af¬
ford it anyway.”
A moment lat¬
er, when there
was a lull, Meg
called: 11 Amy,
Amy Van Decker,
won’t you come
here a minute? I
want to ask you
something."
Amy came, but¬
tonhook in hand,
and seating her¬
self on a foot¬
stool, began but¬
toning her boots.
Meg lowered her
voice: “Have you
that old brown
dress that you
wore at the mas¬
querade last fall,
and the hat?”
Amy nodded her
head, stamping
her left foot firm¬
ly into the boot.
“Well, I want
to borrow them
to-morrow morn¬
ing." “What for?”
“Oh, it’s a joke
on Al that has
just popped into
head. You
know that he bet me that pound
of chocolates be would wish me a
‘Happy New Year!’ first again this
year. He doesn’t expeot to see
me until the big family dinner
to-morrow, and by that time I dare
say that I shall be talking so fast I
shall forget all about it, as usual. But
I am going to dress up so he won’t
know me, and then in the morning,
when the poor children go to his house
for the New Year's cakes 1 am going to
get in with a crowd of them and just
wish him a ‘Happy New Year!’ For
once I am glad I live in a Dutchy New
York town, else there wouldn’t be any
poor children going around asking for
cakes.”
Amy laughed and agreed, and Meg
tied a gauze scarf under her chid and
said: “Now, I think I'm ready. And
Amy, you take Harry up to the house,
and* I will take Al. and then we will
meet at the 'corner aad go home to¬
gether. Mind, now, that yon don’t let
Harry go home with you."
“Gome, girls,” called Cousin Sarah.
“The carriages have been here for aver
so long.” The girls trooped downstair*
to the hall, where the boys were wait¬
ing. and with some blushing and much
laughter each girl escorted her charge
to the carriage, or walked with him,
as the oaae might be.
If Al Van Decker had any idea of
taking a alow promenade with Meg, he
was soon disabused oi the notion; for
she started him away at a great pace,
saying: “I cant dawdle. IVa nearly
midnight and we should have been
home half an hour ago." And in less
than five minutes* Mr. Albert Van
Decker had arrived at his own door.
“Now, Cousin Meg,” he said, ‘it’s my
turn.”
“Nonsense? There is Amy now, Auf
Wiederaehen!” And away sped little
Mis* Van Deeker across the street.
“It didn’t take long, did it?*’ said
Meg, aa she slipped her arm in Amy’s
“That is a girl’s way of doing things—
right to the point But I want to be
sure about the old gown; have it ready
by eight o'clock. I want to go over
about nine. Al will oome to the door;
he alwayslike* to give away the cakes. ”
“Yea,” said Amy. “He did it when
he was little; yet suppose he shouldn't
answer the bell."
mum?
Meg thought a moment, ‘ I ll tell
you, Amy You run over before break¬
fast and see Aunt Annie. She dearly
likes a joke, you know, and she will
help us manage it. She’ll be sure then
to have him at the door. You shall
have half the candy. You won t for¬
get, will you?"
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44 Ya-ah-l)a-ba I Crisnjus Gif V 9
-Cbriytrr>Afl lo tbe 5uooy 5outf>< --
“WelL the things are up in the gar¬
ret, and eight o’clock is pretty early
to get up, but if you really want
them—yes, I will. Good night. Happy
dreoma!”
Meg turned from Amy's door and
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EACH GIRL ESCORTED HER CHARGE.
walked back to the crossing; but just
before she reached it she saw
vault the low fence that ran around the
lawn. She started, and then stood stOL
“Don't be frightened," said a
knowu voice, only
• Oh. A1 Van Decker, how did you
come here?”
• Thought I*d stroll around and see
that you and Amy got here all right,
and I was just taking the short cut
home. And,” he added, as the last
stroke of twelve from the old town
clock died away: T wish you a very
‘Happy New Year!”’—Florence W.
Scoville, in St Louis Republic
Eiqr Enough.
“What I don’t understand,.” said
small Jacky. “is that Santa Claus can
the letters that I write to
Wm when I don’t know how to write."
Hof Mollie. “That’s easy
--- read , senb- . .
Sooty Claus _
enough- wall writin’."-Harper’s Ba
Win’ as a.
AT THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR.
A Time to Seriously Think of Our Faults,
Failures and Mistakes.
The close of the year is always a
time for serious thought and reflec¬
tion. The past crowds upon ns at
such a time v/itb. far more than usual
intensity and es¬
pecially forces up¬
on our attention
our faults, fail¬
ures and mistakes.
Let us look them
squarely in the
face and profit by
them. The wise
man always does
this, but the fool
never. The latter
goes on commit¬
ting the same fol
lies and making
the same mis¬
takes, never prof¬
iting by his exper¬
ience, to say noth¬
ing of the experi¬
ence of others.
Every man makes
mistakes. It may
not be his fault
the first time, but
it is if he makes
the same mistakes
a second time. We
believe that the
secret of success
with those who
succeed, and the
cause of failure
with those who
fail, will be found
largely in the abil¬
ity and disposition
tostudy thecauses
of both
and failure, not
only in one’s own in
experience but
that of others.
The farmer now
has leisure to re¬
view the opera¬
tions of the year,
and he should do
it candidly and
critical*. Make a
complete analysis
of every impor¬
tant operation.
Find the weak
places in it and
trace them to their
origin. Nothi n g
will prepare one
so thoroughly for
the operations of
the year to come
as this kind of
searching investi¬
gation. And while
we
are about this bus
inesa we should
look just as care¬
fully into onr rec¬
ord of moral re¬
sponsibility. We
should be far
more anxious to improve charac
ter, mind and morals than to
improve our farms, Serious study
of onr weak points and of means to
strengthen them is a very profitable
business at any time, and if pursued
assiduously will strengthen and develop
all that is good and admirable in our
natures, and make us better, stronger,
nobler men and women as the years go
by. And the time will come in the life
of every one when such a record of
honest, earnest, persistent effort to im
prove will afford far greater satisfac¬
tion than anything else in his account
with this world. We can wish no bet¬
ter thing for all onr readers than that
they begin the new year animated by
a firm resolve to turn all its experience
into profit for themselves, mentally,
morally, socially and materially, and
then to faithfully carry out the resolu¬
tion.—Ohio Farmer.
The Old and the New.
The Old Year laid upon the portals of tho past
A trembling hand.
And said: ‘‘Oh. let me die and be at rest
Within thy misty land!”
Then all the years that lived and died before
Beached forth, and drew the wanderer safe
within the door.
The New Year laid upon the portals ol to-day
A firm young hand.
And said; “Oh. let me come and UTe and work
Within thy shining laadl"
Then all the years that are to be replied;
••This Is your world,’ ’ and drew the youth Inside.
—Kathleen R. Wheeler. In Llpplncott’o.
Editor—I want an original Christ¬
mas story. Can yon write it?
Writer—Of course not. You’ll find the
original Christmas story in the New
Testament—Detroit Free Press.
Christmas Bell*.
O happy bells I through ooming years
We hear, la your glad sending.
The message still of peace, good-will—
All Jarring discords blending.
O holla of Godl ring on, our souls
To grander action nerving.
Till all ear days are Christmas days
Of living and of serving.
—Caroline A Dugan. In Home.
Will Beeeive Culls.
“Do yon expect to receive calls on
New Year day?” asked Willie Hicollar
‘•Yes," answered Mamie Hollerton;
“HI have to. The telephone exchange
where I work wouldn't give me the day
off. Isn't it mean?”—Washington Star.
MEW VEAE, l?qs.
feEfeaTiAB.
*
F ALL the old
year's days
could speak.
I wonder what
they'd say
Tbe snowy days, the blowy days.
The flowery days of May;
The summer days, when shady ways
Were made for children's feet;
Vacation days, when for their plays
The country was so sweet!
If all the old year’s days could speak—
Just think of it awhile—
Would their report bring bitter tears.
Or the sunshine of a smile?
Ah 1 could they speak from week to week
Of honest work well done.
Of well-used powers In study hours.
Of fairness in the fun?
Of thankful thought for kindness wrought
When homes are rich and glad;
Of tender care to give or share
Where homes are poor and sad;
Of pleasant ways In dark, dull days;
Of . little, gentle deeds;
Of earnest hours among heart’s flowers.
In plucking hurtful weeds?
Can the year speak of patience meek
Where grief has stopped awhile.
Of courage bold, for weak and old
A loving word or smile?
Methlcks the year must seem most dear
If thus Its speech can be; ,
O'erfnil of joys for girls and boys—
’’ A year of jubilee.
—Mrs. M. F. Butts, in N. W. Christian Advo
cate.
HI* Conning Scheme.
Mr. Dre file short—Sophronia, I wish
you would look at that paper agai*
and tell me the exact date when that
train robbery took place on the Missouri
Pacific.
Mrs. Dreffleshort—Why, what are
you doing, James?. writ¬
Mr. Dreffleshort (who is busily
ing letters to various relatives out
west)—I want to locate a lot of bundles
of costly Christmas gifts—that we
didn’t send—on that particular train.—
Chicago Tribune.
Borne New Fear Advice.
Don’t wait for the wagon while the
walking is good.
Don’t grieve over spilt milk while
there’s one cow left in the pasture.
Don’t say the world is growing worse
when yon are doing nothing to make it
better.
Don’t tell the world your troubles.
You can’t borrow ten dollars on them.
Don’t let the grass grow under your
feet. The cows can’t get at it there.—
Atlanta Constitution.
Old Skinflint’* Generosity.
“My dear,” said old Skinflint to his
wife, “we ought to do something for
the poor people around here this Christ¬
mas.”
“I think so, too. What do you pro¬
pose to do?” asked Mrs. S.
“Suppose we have our Christmas din¬
ner at night and leave the dining-room
shades up, so that they can see ourplum
pudding?”—Harper’s Bazar.
Hl* Benson.
“How did Charlie come to give up
smoking so suddenly?”
“He was afraid it was going to make
him disregard the truth.”
“How do you mean?”
“He knew he would have to say he
was pleased with those his wife would
give him Christmas.”—Inter Ocean.
Encouraging.
“Grace,” he began, tenderly, on New
Year's eve, “I—I—” when she inter¬
rupted him. o’clock,” she
“Wait until twelve
whispered. “I had enough proposals
last year to suit anyone, but 1 want ’95
to beat it—so please wait.”—Harper’s
Bazar.
Think* His Wants Are Covered.
“I’ve written a letter to Santa Claus,”
said Willie. “And I think it covers
everything I want” “What
“That’s good,” said mamma,
did you ask for?”
“Two toy shops and a candy store,”
said Willie.—Harper’s Bazar.
Remembering the Widow.
“I don’t know mnch about the father¬
less,” mused Oldsport, reflectively, “but
I guess this Christmas season is a good
time to remember the widow.”
Having arrived at this decision he
went down-town and ordered a dia¬
mond bracelet.—Detroit Tribune.
Primus—Jobeon is floes a philanthropist.
Secundus—What he do?
Primus—He’s so sorry for poor chil¬
dren who have no Christmas that he
spends the year telling them that
Santa Claus is a myth.—Puck.
A Happy New Yeer to yon, little ooe.
Whose Happy New Yean are Just begun!
And may your life be as sweet aad true
As the wishes, to-day, that are wished Companion for foel
—Youth’s