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STMAS.18M MBS*, * s V i*. JL .** Jh 1 k ' lr mr\ ■•//" v §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. m CKE^ ' ' > . V i m j 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 ' bribe Hk h sweets « lew,^ well ml mv A rime di§ Quisfcw hUy bkktaj K % s . •Y dr 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?" MP* *ssi lK:fi as*' *riyg.gs.N.“ - . r V : ^n i'r ■Pi iriiiinS-r ri [ijljpgpfjpl: ' a ■ i.i 5HU- : , wmmi „. , • “rfT~ — m -if ■ i :: Bit m I "4 ,, rmi Whm ; :v 9 1 Ki io " I M* m ' 4 <• I- j N L™ ?• ? 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 ,i ’W l <« NN-rr y>jK *i m3 r if. ? M n pbg i—,TH % e 5b I * •n r< h * 31 * * ■ 1 r- i r . • *"* ** V 1 i i $ I?* r is / S\ 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