Newspaper Page Text
IOW WON-
[This is the ladies’ column. They are invited to
express their opinions herein—to use it as their own.
The editress will answer questions or accept sug
gestions with pleasure.]
Christmas.—
[WRITTEN FOB THE KINGDOM.)
"God’s will to man and pca?e on earth
On this the day of Jesus bit th.”
Iu the long ago on a golden morn
A Saviour to the world was born,
In the humble manger the Christ-Child lay
The world's Redeemer—on alel of hay.
The wise men cem > from out of the East,
The star stood o’er the kneeling beast,
Frankincense and inyroh with them they brought
A precious offering to the child they sought.
Hallelujah 1 let men rejoice
And sing His praise with gladsome voice—
Hrs birthday comes, His natal day
This remember now, and alway—
" Good will to men and peace on earth,
On this the day of Jcsns’ birth.”
Forest Home, S. C. Annie C. Dean.
o
Christmas Greeting!
The joyous season of the holidayshave again
rolled around. Wo ask, “Is it possible another
year has passed ?” Time flies faster and faster
as the years go by> and our Christmas greet
ings seem to come nearer and nearer together.
It is a season fraught witli various emotions;
pleasure, sadness, desires and anticipations
mingle together. The celebration of Christmas
should bring nothing but pleasure; true there
are many households that are shadowed with
gloom; many a home where last year a merry
light-hearted child made sunshine, is darken
ed, because the sunshine has given place to
gloom, for the little one has gone hence for
ever. But there are ether little ones left;
make their hearts happy even tho’ your own
are breaking. Our desires often mar our hap
piness at this merry-making time. We wish we
could do so much more than we are able, and
often comes a feeling of discontent that we can
give so little. The making of Christmas gifts
often proves a burden I it should not be so; if
wo are not able to do much, do what we can.
t heard a good woman say, “I always make
out a list of those I wish to make gifts, I put
the amount of the gift opposite each name, and
in this way I manage to come within my
means, and have something for one or two on
the list who are poor and have no expecta
tions.’’ This is a good rule; the class who
have no gifts to expect are much larger than
those who have. We often hesitate to give,
because it is so litte; it takes very little to
bring joy and happiness to the poor, and it is
this class that appreciate our gifts most highly.
But it is bright joyous expectations of child
hood that makes Christmas a time of merry
making and hilarity. It is so pleasant to hear
their plans discussed and see their faces
brighten with expectation. How many a child
has lain awake at night trying to make twenty
five cents do the duty of fifty cents. One
bright little five year old neighbor of mine
came running to his mother the other morn
ing (who was going down town) with his
Christmas money (thirty-five cents) to be in
vested. He said: "Now .yen are to get some for
papa, big sister, little sister and yourself. I
don’t care wbat you get, but get papa a dozen
handkerchiefs, a box of cigars, and then get
you all something.” Dear child, thirty-five
cents looked large enough to do anything with,
for his heart was filled with “good will,” and
that is the true secret of happiness. Through
all the ages that have passed since the star of
Bethlehem guided by its light the wise men to
the birth place of Christ, the song of the
Heavenly host has echoed and re-echoed in tho
hearts of men, “peace on earth and good will
toward man.” It is truly a time when the
heart overflows with “good will” to all; it is
not our pleasure but the pleasure of some one
else we seek, thereby enhancing our own.
May the heavenly light that was a beacon to
those of old radiate tiie hearts of all our
readers, and the song of the host, “peace on
earth and good will towards men,” find a re
sponsive chord in every bosom. We send a
-greeting to each and all of our read.ers. May
ft be a “Merry Christmas and Happy New
Year” to our entire Kingdom.
o
Home-Made French Candy.
Nothing gives children so much pleasure as
to “make candy,” and nothing gives mothers
much more trouble than the old fashion slick
"candy pullings,” so we propose to have tho
children enjoy a candy making that is attend
ed by no mess or trouble, and one in which the
grown folks will also be interested. First pre
pare your fruits and nuts; get hazel nuts, al
monds and English walnuts, the latter try and
open so as not to break them, but halve neatly;
the other nuts are easily gotten out whole.
For fruits, get dates and dried figs; open the
dates and remove the stones and open the figs;
when this is done and your nuts and fruit is
all placed on dishes convenient, you are ready
to make your candy. Take a pound of pul
verized sugar; it you live where you can get
What is called confectioner’s sugar, it is better,
but the other will answer; put your sugar on
your biscuit board and roll and then sift; break
the white of an egg in a goblet, put the exact
quantity of rich cream that tho white of your
egg is, boat the white of your egg to a stiff
froth, then add tho cream, then flavor with
Vanilla, then add the sugar, slowly until it gels
Stiff enough to put on your board and work as
you would biscuit dough: sprinkle a little extra
sugar on the board to keep from sticking, then
toll out as thin as pie crust and cut in strips;
each person can then take a strip and go to
Work; roll the almond in the paste, fill the
fruit and place a thin piece between each wal
nut, placing them as you finish on dishes or
sheets of white paper and set them in a cool
place. Be careful not to mould the paste too
heavily around the smaller nuts. You
nan still have a greater variety by having
Oranges and white grapes; take each plug of
♦he orange and cover only one-half, having the
Other side show the yellow, cover each grape
lightly with the paste. Grated cocoanut
mixed with a little of the paste and formed in
to little eggs are nice. Small balls of paste
dipped in melted “bakers chocolate” will give
you delightful “cream chocolate.” Thus you
will have a variety of the nicest candies and
will be astonished to see how far a pound of
each article will go, and the expense is not
half of what a pound of “French candy”
would cost you. These candies can bo used in
an hour after finished. We have given special
care to the recipes sent for Christmas; they
are all of the best; we have purposely left out
fruit cake and plum pudding, as every one has
* recipe for these, but have given only new
and tried recipes for the holidays.
——o
The Sewing Machine I’uled Out,
From the New York Tribune.
Ko carefull housekeeper now allows a machine
hem on her table—linen, bed-linen or undercloth
ing. The sewing machine is responsible for much
of the suffering of poor seamstresses who are com
pelled to put 2CO tucks or puffing and tucking a
yard deep on a single garment made ot cheap cotton,
for a variety of vulgar persons, including smart
ladies’maids or corks, who are anxious that their
mistresses shall see liow much they can otr dothem,
and vho sneer at the simple laced-edged or em
broidered clothing included in their mistresses’
laundry, as though they were in keeping with the
miserly management wl : h had ordered the rem
nants of r<*.t-t b of, “only enough for the cat,” to
be made into croquette. If a relined country girl
Could follow ih■ j-ur'-haserx of overtrimmed clothes
to their home. tlr-y would never :'.ttempt to make
elaborate underclothes, but would avoid garments.
With to. 1 tucks -- t 'i- ;. ... old do the ins.quia of a
bellet-dnneer. W.. so uk of country girls because
Bo woman ofrehi. taut inti.e -,'e cites would
buy the '.m ks a . 1 . : y-..id at starvation
rates in the city rho A great many v. men
•vet
praei.ee of “home made” underclothes. Ike stick
lug un these clothes is dune by machine. The
THE WEEKLY COKSTITLTIGN, ATLANTA, GA., TUESDAY. DECEMBER 20. 188 7
hems and fella are handwork. If lace is used as
J mis always put on by overcast stitch
ins finest clothing is trimmed simply with a group
o tucks, which may be half-inch, or finer, as the
maker fancies, a narrow frill of lace or embroidery
and a few lines of dainty feather stitching done
with the needle. “Pride of the West’’ muslins, per
and nainsooks are the materials generally
used. A great many ladies this sea-on are making
up sets of underclothes of fine white flannel, all
o', but ot light weight, embroidering the edges of
t ic garments in simple scallops and not with ('Lina
floss. K iitting unlerve-ts of Saxony yarn isb?- i
coming a- fashi- naLle fancy work. Ladies oi luxuri- ■
ous tius.e somet.me.-y knit the.-e vests of pure white i
snks, avoiding as “loud” any tint of color. Infants’ ;
clothing should be made by the needle. The seams
are the only part of baby garments where machine
sewing is allowable.
A Photograph Holder.
If you do not like to see the photographs of your
mt
o
Christmas Recipes.
Dolly Varden Cake.—Make five layers of cake by
any nice jelly cake recipe, and put them together
with different “fillings” between. For the first use
choco ate; the second, lemon cream; the third,
grated cocoanut; and the fourth, a soft icing filled
with nuts and raisins; then ice the entire cake.
Banbury Cakes.—These are delicious and are a
most excellent substitute for mince pies. Stone and
chop one cupful of raisins, a piece of citron the size
of the round bottom of a coffee cup, add one egg,
one cup of sugar, the juice and pulp and part of the
grated peel of a lemon; mix thoroughly. Make a
crust exactly like pie-crust, rcll it, and cut out little
circles the size of a small saucer; upon this drop a
spoonful of the mixture, wet the crust with water,
then fold it up and press the edges together; make it
look like a little “turn-over,” only it must not have
even a tiny outlet for the juice; use a little flour on
your fingers, if need be, to Keep the edges together.
Put them when, all folded into a dripping-pan or
baking plate, closely side by side, then rub them
over evenly with milk in which a little sugar is dis
solved; to a large tablespoonful of milk add a small
te.spoonful of sugar. Bake a light brown.
Ice Cream Cake.—Two cups white sugar, one cup
butter, whites of eight eggs, % cup of sweet milk,
three cups flour, two tcaspoonfuls Royal Baking
Powder. Mix butter and sugar together, then add
the eggs well beaten, next the milk, and lastly the
flour and powder mixed together. Flavor to suit the
taste, beating the mixtures well.
Lobster Patties.—Line pattypans with puff paste
or pie crust made short; put a piece a dry bread in
eac.n; cover with the top crust, brush lightly with
white of egg and bake. Mince the lobster very fine,
add a little lemon juice, Cayenne pepper and salt,
moisten with a few s-p oonfuls of whltesar.ee, to
which has been added a little gravy. let this sim
mer gently for five minutes; theu after removing the
top and taking out the bread, fill the patty cases
with the lobster, replace the covets, and send” to the
table hot.
Little Pigs in Blankets.—To garnish the roast
turkey, cut some very thin slices of English break
fast bacon, upon etch lay an oyster which has been
wiped dry and seasoned, then fold the bacon over
it and fasten it with tiny skewers of wood, two
through each slice; just ten minutes before the
turkey is to go to the table, fry these “little pigs”
until they are delicately brown and place on the
platter around the turkey.
Orange Cream.—Soak a one ounce packet of gela
tine, and add it to one pint of milk in which six
ounces of lump sugar has been dissolve 1. Adda
little lemon peel, and boil all together for ten
minutes. Strain the milk and add to it half a pint
of orange Juice and the juice of one tin.ill lemon.
Stir well, and pour into a mold till set.
Orange Sponge.—Oranges are not only excellent
at breakfast (which is the best time to eat them) but
should be oftener served at dessert—as puddings,
jellies, short cake, etc., than they arc. A very nice
dish Is made as follows: Squeeze out the juice and
pulp of three oranges into a bowl. Add the juice of
hall a lemon, three ounces of sugar, one and a half
pint of cold water; let it come to a bail and then
strain. Dissolve two tablespoonfuls of corn starch
in a little cold water, rub it smooth and add to it the
strained juices; let it boil fifteen minutes to cook the
corn starch. Then set it aside and when cold set it
in the ico box to become quite cold. Beat up the
whites of three eggs to a foam, whip it into the corn
starch and it is ready lor use. It maybe served in
tart shells or fancy cases.
Orange Charlotte (Mrs. Lincoln.)—One-third box
of gelatine, V- cup of cold water, % cup boiling
water, one cup sugar, juice of one lemon, one cup of
orange juice and pulp, three eggs (whites only.)
Line a mould or bold with lady fingers or sections of
oranges. Soak the gelatine in cold water till soft.
Four on the boiling water. Add the sugar and the
lemon juice. Strain and add the orange juice and
pulp with a little of t'ie grated rind. Cool in a pan
of ice water. Heat the whites of the eggs stiff and
when the orange jelly begins to harden, beat it till
light. Add the beaten whites, and beat together till
stiff enough to drop. Pour into the mould.
One pint of whipped cream may be used instead
of the whites of the eggs, or it may be piled on the
top after the charlotte is removed from the mould.
Apple Charlotte.—One cup of cooked sour apples
(steamed, drained and sifted) may be used in place
of orange in the preceding receipt. Line the mould
with lady fingers or sponge cake, and Serve a boiled
custard made with tho yolks of the eggs, as a sauce,
or use one cup of canued peach, pine-apple or apri
cot, or one pint of fresh strawberries or raspberries.
Mosh and rub the fruit through a seive before using.
o
Christinas Hints.
An old lady writing to the “Helping Hand”
of the Philadelphia I’ress gives some useful
suggestions for presents. She says:
I have been given a pretty little cushion for darn
ing tape, worsted, and button needles, and I find it
so handy in my work-basket I thought I’d tell
others how to make it. Take six pieces ot common
dress braid of contrasting colors, and about six
inches in length. Leave nearly an inch at each
end. Sew five seams lengthwise, turn and work
with bright-colored floss in feather or cross stitch,
ravel each end, sew the last scam, turn and work.
Run a string dose to the raveling at ono end and tie.
Fill it with curled hair, but don’t crowd tie
cushion full. Run a string in the end, draw up and
tie. Finish by tying the narrowest scarlet, bln ior
puik ribbon over the draw strings, making two tiny
bows and short ends. I've made nearly a dozen to
giveaway be.ge l some small pieecs fromadreM
maker, an 1 bought a stick of scarlet braid, to you
see it c sis little to make the cushions.
Another tn xpensi-.e thiug Is a plaque for a
mantle omam mt In a chamber. Take a piece of
still box bon rd, nine Inches long and five inches
wide, and a sheet of ilstie i«pcr ill.ti.t brovn lathe |
prettiest color), dou 1. the paper, an 1 crinkle It by I
pulling It tl.r the Lun is ic i ■ r ftean minutes, |
catch It v. .lift id on tho bamt of the board, draw- 1
Ing it lightly to keei.lt crinkled. Paste white paper ;
on the baek, and on the front an emlo red picture I
of the head and ..cullers of a young girl, a basket I
of limiers, or any i retty picture.
I shall make • '.•.••rd “.Iress up” aprons for those
who have little lime to do things for tbei voter. It
takes b t two ya -Is of 1. lit print, vid one and ,
three quart* .» of tore.* m lace for ihc bottom ot the ,
apron. They cost very little, and are sure to please,
Tho six-months-old baby will enjoy playing with a
large ball filled with cotton wool, inside of which is
a small tin box with buttons to rattle, and a short
piece of broad elastic which he can handle easily
and bob up and down.
I have covered several small boxes with bright
pa, er and emb.is c 1 pictures. which 1 shall till \\ ilh
candy and nuts for my grandsons, from eight to ten
years of age. I have also cut outmiroccopen
wipers, heart-si a id, and shall buttor.h ’e them
I with silk outside, placing a small picture on each
. side, cutting the inside leaves hi points. Several
i other tilings I shr.'l make for eb.iblrcn, such nsrnb
| bits, dogs, elephants and mice, made of cotton
flannel aud well stuffed.—Mrs. C. G. Furbish, Eliots
Maine,
Arsenical Teeth.
A correspondent of the Pt. Louis Globe Democrat
writes: “I have rend a gre :t deal in the papers
about slow poisoning processes, but only believed
the various statements when they were brought
home to me. My wife, who bail been remarkable
for her rugged health and rosy appearance, began to
fade away. She dwindled to a mere shadow, and
yet she reiterated statements of go id hea’th.
Finally, I insisted on calling in a doctor of high
standing, after an emphatic protest from ourregular
physician. A long diagnosis deci led licit my wife
was suffering from arsenical poisoning drawn into
the system from a cheap set of false tecta, which
had been purchased about a week before the first
symptoms of weakness had bet n observed. Arsenic
had been used in the enamel to secure the glittering
whiteness so much admired by women, and in the
process of mastication small pat ticles had been ab
sorbed In the food and taken into the stomach,
where the insidious work of destruction was pro
gressing surely to a fat .1 termination.
Correspondence.
Mrs. P. Moore, Morton, Miss.—Fie .sc say to my
many c; r espondents on the subject of home, that I
have secured a young lady to live with me. Would
write to them all, but the yare too numerous. How
ever, I will do all I can to procure a home for some,
or all of them. Those who wishes some oue Will
please enclose stamp for reply.
Mrs. E. C. Roberts, Tallassee, Ala.—May I come in
to ask the sisters if any of them know the address of
Mrs. E. C. Trout. When I last heard from her site
was at Bulcher, Texas. She was a dear old lady i n I
great friend of mine, and I would bo so glad to hear
from her again. If some one will send me her ad
dress I will send them some pretty patterns for knit
or crochet trimming or directions for knitting baby
saeque, shirt or boot.
Annie Jones, 3907 South street, Meridian, Miss.
Will some of the sisters please give me the address
of the lady who, I believe, lived in Alabama and
understood cutting and fitting by measure, and
taught it by mail; also sold a chart, (which she in
vented herself) very cheap. Address me as above.
“M. C. G.,” Union Point, Ga.—As it is the time of
year to be putting up meats of different kinds for
winter, I would like to give the sisters a receipt for
pickled beef. Take one hundred pounds of beet,
add four quarts of salt, four ounces of saltpetre and
four pounds of brown sugar, well mixed and rubbed
on; no water must be used. Tie up closely; it will
be ready for use in ten days. This is a most excel
lent recipe, and I hope some of the sistcraw try it.
Sallie Mast, Melrose, Texas—l noticed in last
week’s paper a request for the address of Willett
Cornwell. It is 1229 Wabash avenue, Chicago, 111. I
use-his eliart and think it excellent. I was in At
lanta dining the. fair and intended to visit ThkCon
stitution and try to see Aunt Susie any way, but
missed it. I nearly always read the little ones’ as I
am a teacher and like to know how they are getting
along. We have two copies of your paper in our
family, so you may know how much it is appreci
ated.
Mattie E. Gurr, Blakely, Ga.—l think The Con
stitution is the very best of pay ers. lam very fond
of crocheting, and would be very glad if the sisters
will send me some samples. I crocheted a child’s
dress entirely, w hlch took the premium at the fair;
there was eighteen spools of No. 50 spool cotton in
it. I also enjoy the children’s department very
much; [lope Aunt Susie will cvntinuo tu-w«ito h«v
instructive letters to the children. lama member
of the M. E. church at this place; we have a nice
little church with something over ono hundred
members. I think the ninth page of The Consti
tution is the brightest page of the paper.
Lizzie G. Edwards, Salem, Ala.—l have long teen
an admit er of The Constitution; it affords me more
pleasure than any other p iper. I send ono dollar
and want my name to go in the Christmas box,
with a of getting a premium, and if I do not, I
will have one of the best papers in the world. My
husband died in ’BO, and I have lived a very seclud
ed life ever since. I generally turn to the Woman’s
Kingdom first and read everything in il. I had an
aunt by the name of Susie, whom I looked upon as
a perfect characted and that with my fondues»for
your writings, has endeared you tome. To show
my appreciation, I have made a couple of squares
for your quilt, with names worked in; yours is
designed for the center; if they are not too late ami
think them appropriate, please accept them.
Note—The squares are very pretty; accept thanks,
Mr?. W. P.. Dalton. Ga.—Tho’ I have been silent
so long, I have not 1< st interc t in Woman’s King
dom; but have read it weekly and derived much
comfort from the sympathetic letters of the sisters.
When we pick up a paper and read of accident and
hoirid things that happen far away, we
shudder and say, oh.! how sad.' and it is soon for
gotten; but we never know the mis ry, the gloom,
the nttcr desolation of such until they come home to
us. When the light goes out ol our lives and lurid
clouds lurng over us, brought on by sudden grief,
then, we begin to realize what other.; suffer. 1 had
a dear sister, with two little girls; she was a widow;
they left their home in the hot city by my special
invitation to come and spend the summer months
with me in our pleasant village. They had be» n
with us just one week, when oue pleasant morning,
the 12th of July, my daughter came in looking so
cheerful and happy, audsiid, “Aunt Lou. lets take
a walk.” They went! I never saw my sister again!
In one hour she wasjerushedto death under the piti
less wheels of the morning passenger train, Lear
friends, just imagine for one moment what I had to
bear. Ohl no, I did not bear it; the hand that dealt
the blow support jd me. I never could l ave borne
it alone. Two little orphans clinging to me scream
ing, and my daughter like a raving maniac. I have
often felt like I would like to communicate with
the kind editress and sisters of the Kingdom and
open my sad heart to them: and after reading your
kind inquiries about our long silence, I felt
prompted by some sudden impulse, to let you hear
from me. Christmas will soon be here; many homes
will be made bright and cheerrul by fam Jy re
unions and happy gatherings; but in ours there will
be a vacant chair, for since her husband died In
Florida nine years ago, she hes spent her Christmas
holidays with us. But I do not sorrow, as those
that have no hope. She was a Christian: her work
here was finished, and God said, “Come up higher.”
Among my lighter troubles, 1 have had the trial o
moving, and you all that have experience in that
line, know what it is. 1 hope those of the Kingdom
that have long been silent, will let us hear from
them, and that our column may prove a source of
comfort, instruction and edification, as it has al
ready done to many. Many thanks for the dear,
good letters from your pen during the past year,
and a happy Christmas and bright New Year to you
and all the sisters.
Donning Iler Bridal Clothes in Public.
A remarkably strange scene was enacted at
the depot opposite the brnadgauge ticket window yes
terday. A party of Italians, consisting of four
women, one of whom was a pretty young woman ol
20 years, bad come off the tx/at. It was a wedding
party, or rati er the damsel had come from the
country to mutt her lover and be married. Dusty
and travel stained us she was she could not possibly j
meet her intended husband. Accordingly the party
slipped out of the stream pouring from the ferry, and |
gathering against the bull-head the young lady '
commenced to divest herself of her clothing. Re
gardless of the crowd wh ch soon collected she
proceeded to strip herself until she was Handing in
a state of Eve-like simplicity. Thea she com
menced to don her wedding trousseau. This was !
soon accomplished, and when the young woman i
: found herself completely arrayed for her nupLuis i
! she walked off with he r party through the laughing |
• crowd, unmindful both of the laughter she excited I
j or that she had done anything immodest or inde- '
j cent, the wai, indeed, an exemplification of tho *
saying, “Where ignorance is bliss lia fully to bo !
i" L :" . -
Every vice has a cloak. Consumption
creeps in under tire cloak of a hard coid. The I
virtue Is Warner’s Log Cabin Cough and Con
sumption Iteniody will drive out the vicious ■
I oue and bring in health. 50c and &J.
relatives and
friends standing I
on the mantel
piece or lying on
a talle and yet
do not wish to
consign them to
the oblivion of
the photograph
album, make a
holder like the
illustration,
which is from
the Rural New
kiYorker. Tho
r foundation is of
cardboa: d. The
Covering, which
is divided into
sections or pock
ets, may be of
one kind of
goods, or each
section of a dif
ferent sort.
Braid, embroi
der or paint the
sections as fancy
dictates. The
whole is sur
rounded with a
silken cord,
twisted at top in
to a trefoil
which serves as
a loop to sus
gend it from tt
ook.
[foil THE YOUNG FOLKS.
Fun for t!w Children—The Constitution
Training School for I’oys and Girls.
“The f'hrL(-Child.”
“O blessed Christ-Child, ou this clay,
First b.? our gifts to Thee:
And second in our hearts and thougnts
i.et friends and kindred be.
Ou every tree, weighed down with gifts,
That tenderest meiuor.es wake,
Oil I may the choicest and the best
Be iiuiig' for Tny dear sake 1
And be Thou at each festive board
Most honored guest today ;
And by each happy hearth stone may
Thy sacred presence stay 1”
F. 11. Mark.
o
Dear Children : Another Christmas will
soon be here and 1 know you are all thinking
of the good times you are going to have. I
sincerely hope your anticipations may be real
ized. I send you a Christinas story; it is ono
of “Louise Alcott’s,” anti she writes such fine
sweet stories that I have selected it on that ac
count, 1 thought as it was Christmas we must
have something different from every week, so
instead of letters give yon a story, which I
hope you will enjoy. But I have read all tho
letters received and thank those who sent
nickels and quilt squares. Those whose letters
do not appear must write again. I will write
to yon after Christmas and toll you if “Santa
Claus” brings nto anything. Wishing you
every one a “Merry Christmas and Happy
New Year,” lam yours lovingly,
“Aunt Susie.”
o
“LITTLE ROBIN.”
[FROM HARPER'S YOUNG FOLKS.]
No one called her that till after the Christmas I
am going t > tell about; and when you have road H o
story you will see wl at a good name it was for her.
Bess was twelve years old—a ro y, bright eyed
little girl, who did errands for all the old ladles who
lived in the village. There were a good many of
them—nice, kind old souls, very busy about their
small affairs, very sociable, and very, good to the
poor; so they were glad to make Bess melr messen
ger, and pay her for doing their errands. She lived
with her grandmother, and liked to earn money,
for they were poor, and the old woman tvos getting
more feeble every year. But Bess was strong and
well, and such n wise, steady child, tiie fussiest old
lady could trust her to match wools, carry parcels,
or deliver messages without a mistake. Every
morniug, when all was neat in the little house, and
grandma settled comfortably at her knitting, Bess
with her big satchel on her arm, would trot from
door to door to get her orders, and then go on to tiie
middle of the town for the letters aud the various
things the old ladies wante 1.
In this way she earned a good deal, not always in
money, but in good warm clothes for grandma, and
help about the wood and rent. Eaelt old lady did
what she could, for none were rich; but among them
Bess fared well, and was a happy, useful child, be
loved by all for her cheerful face, pretty manners,
and faithfulness in everything.
One Christmas Eve she was thinking how wel
they were getting on as she trudged up the long hill
with a basket of pies from Miss PatnlertoTierTtieiid
Mrs. Baker, Tiie sun was setting splendidly, but
the wind was very sharp, and n bitter cold night
was coming on, with a moon by and by to ligut tho
merry sleighing parties. At the minister’s gate
stood two pretty little children resting after a coast
down the bank about three feet high. They were
hopplug up and down to warm their toes, and chat
tering like magpies, though their little noses were
red, and they ought to have been safe in the house
at that hour.
But the mother was busy trimming the church,
and nurse gossiping in the kitchen, so little Arty
and Min got into trouble, as we shall see.
“Joe sa d the Christmas trees camo from those
woods, and I saw him bring lots on his sled. Bo if
we ur> UU we can get a dear little ono for Hio d >H«,
and drag it home on my sled,” said the little boy,
full of tho new Idea, and longing for a good run in
the smooth road, where bells had been jingling gay
ly all day as sleighs flew to and fro.
“It’s pretty Far; would mama like it ?” asked tho
small girl, eager to surprise her family of dolls with
a fine tree, but remembering certain promises about
leaving tiie garden.
“She wouldn’t mind; and we’ll get a ride on the
first sleigh that comes along. Tuck upon iny sled,
and be ready. I’ll hang on and drug yo:i; then we’ll
go quick, and not boa bit tired,” answered Arty,
looking anxiously for a horse’s head to come round
tho corner,
Bess camo tortead, and nodded to them as she
pa s -fl. ‘’Time logo in-doors. Hun or Jaek Frost
will u.p your noses,” she said, wondering to see
ih -in tIK-ro so laic.
“We ain’t airaid. Wo are going to see where
Christmas trees grow, and get one for our dollies,”
0 died the children, waving fhclr red mittens. Bess
never stopped to talk when doing errands, so she
hurried on, and left, (he children waiting for a ride.
Before long a sleigh passed with an old man in it,
and Arty hung on unobserved, while little Min
bumped along on the yellow sled behind. The horse
went fast, and soon tiie runaways were far away on
the 111 top. But It was such fun to skim along with
jingling bells, to s.:e the trees (ly by, to feel that no
one knew where they were, and that tins would be
a fine adventure to (ell when they got home, that
they kept on till the old man discovered them, and
ordered them off at once.
“Here’s a nice road; an 1 o.er there, seems to mo,
I see lots of Christmas trees all shining bright," said
Arty, as lie dragged Ids sister into the wood along
the path made by Hie sleds ol the lumbermen.
“Do they grow with candles on ’em?” asked Min.
“I shouldn’t be s’prised if they did. Ours always
Ims candles, and motl or ties on Hie presents, A'.y
wuy, wo cun play tins is a fairy wood ami every
thing is splendid. Notv you get off, ami we'll run
down that nice little path and see if that pretty red
lu a fire or tiie sky. I guess these tre.-s are too l,:g
for us: we must get a little one and pull it up,” di
rected Arty, fell np- much elated with hismlven
turn, and bent on exploring the forest, which Jo iked
prartlcularly attractive just then, with the green
boughs powdered with snow.
So the innocent little souls went scrambling
deeper and deeper among the pines toward tho
grove of small tr res, playing they saw giants and
fairies by the way. It was warmer in the wood; a
squirrel cam? Ui welcome them, an owl flew by with
its soft cry as ff trying to be agreeable, ami they
talked, and snowballed, ami pulled up a dozen
little trees before they found ono that suite*! them.
Meantime the pretty light faded away, and they
realized how fur from home they were.
“My boots arc ho tired I can't go any more; please
pull me on tiie sled, Arty, ’ said Min, quite used up
and rather Hoared by the shadoM-s that began to fill
the corners of tiie wood.
“I left tho sled somewhere, ’cause the runner
broke. I guess we won’t try to find It, but run
right borne. It’s pretty late, and I’rn awfully
hungry; ain’t you?” "Yes,” answered Arty, trudging
stoutly away in what he fancied was the right direc
tion.
"Yes, and 1 want to see mamma,” said Min, with,
a quaver In her voice suggestive of tears.
“Now, don’t you be a baby. If you fret and cry,
I'll never take yoi on a nice tramp again. Take
hold of me and come along, and in a minute we ll
find the road, and run light home.”
Arty spoke bravely, but his heart began to fail
him, for no path apjaared, and the winter twilight
was darkening fast. His Utile conscience told him
lie had done wrong to go so far, and every moment
he grew more and n.oie sure that they were lost.
Poor Min struggled along in tiie big rubber boot*
that burdened her short legs, and after tumbling in
to holes, slipping off Icy ‘tones, and wading through
I drifts for what seemed hours to her weary little
feet, she suddenly ttopjx d short, and sobbed out:
“Oh, we’re lost! and never can find mamma
I again! I'm so cold and tired and hungry, I can't
go any more. Please let rne rest, Arty, und find iny
banchlf.”
“1 et's both sit down and see about It. Here's a
nice log for you. Ixin’t cry, dear. 11l find the way
! s* m l ow. If I’d known we were going to be lost,
| I’d have* had lots of pebbles In my pxickct, like ilop
| o’ my thumb, then we'd be all right. It is pretty
coll. Wonder how hunters make afire when they
I haven't any matoheS? Seems ns If I read alxiut rub-
I bmg two sileks. You restand see me do It, Min;
I tl.cn we’ll be nice and warm with a fire, aud wolves
1 and bears won't dure to touch us If we stay all
Huch a dreadful idea dismayed poor Mln, and she
I cried aloud, while Arty vainly ruble I two gieen
I twigs till his fingers were nearly frozen. This dis
; appointment und his sister’s dismal walling, us well
■ ns the darkness gathering alxmt them, uj«ei the ;
| boy, and altei amanlul struggle to keep buck the |
tears, he began to cry also, while the little owl
hooted mournftilly, and tho cold wind sighed
among the pines.
n wasa sad Sight, tho two shivering, sobbing little
shm l ,"/? 8 nU “ ,one in *'>« wintry woods, when they
should have bo. n safe aud warm at home. But no
one saw it except tho evening star, which peeped
them 8 * 1 Ule boUßhs like 11 t> ri s ht °i’ e watching over
y 1 * 1 ' 1 ! all tho (ears tvero shed, and both were too
•r/'V'!'" 1 !lrcd to cry any more, Arty took heart, and
'Cd to carry nlssister on bis back toward an open
kn 1° 1110111,0 fondly hoped was the path. A tad
“* i into a deop hollow chilled his courage, and after
btl, ’ggling on a little longer ho gave up and sat
down again in despair.
'lin so sleepy! Let’s say ‘Now I lay me,’ and go
to bvlow,” said Min, with a sob and a gape, as her
bead tell on Arty’s shoulder, top-heavy with wean
for it was lung past her bedtime.
< oine under this tree, where there isn’t nny
snnw, mm we’ll cuddle down and try to be warm,
father conics to And u«, I’ll take care of you,
dorr, j ain’t afraid of the dark—much.”
spoke, Arty drew tho poor little girl und w
*he wide-spreading boughs of a hemlock, and put
ung his arms about her, tried not to tremble and
start nt every sound, or to stare into the gloom with
wldo eyes frill of fear. Min was asleep in a moment,
an I after a few more penitent tears, Arty droppe l
also, just as he had resolved to watch all night. So
there they lay, i sleep in the wood, where the bitter
dd would soon freeze them if no one came to find
and save them. But the old tree sheltered them
well, the kind star watched over them, and the
little owl skimmed softly away to bring a friend of
whom they never thought.
Mrs. Baker kept Bess some time, asking about nil
the nows of the village, and when she went, tilled
her basket with cookies, and gave her a little can of
milk for her grandmother.
“I’m afraid I’ve kept you too long, dear, it grows
dark so sudden n nvadays. Do take my Inn’ern, so
you won’t r-Up and spill tho milk. Put the can in
the basket, then it will ride stiddy, and you’ll have
a hand free for tho lantern,” said the old lady, peer
ing out into the dusk.
Bess did not want tho light, as she was used to
running over the snow, but to oblige Mrs. Baker she
accepted it, an i set out for homo. Just as she loft
the gate a little dark object on tho white road
caught her eye farther up the hill, and she went to
see what it was, thinking it might be tho full purse
poor 11:tic girls were always finding in the stories
she read.
No, it was only a little red mitten; but Bess looked
troubled as she t urned it over, so ’ on the back was a
white M., and she knew it was ono of the pair
grandma had knit for little Minnie.
“I do believe those naughty babies really did go
after a tree. I thought they were only playing.
Wbat a fright their folks will be in at home if they
did run away! Yes, hero is the mark of a sled. I’ll
run up the hill, and BO ' if they did go this way.”
Oil' went Bess, and soon another little mitten told
hot she was on tho track of tho runaways, for Miu
had been so busy holding on she lost her mittens
without knowing it. The marks of runners and two
s nail pairs of feet wore plainly seen in the snow
where the children turned into the woods, and Bess
f dlowed the trail, calling as she went, sure that the
little things could not have gone far.
Now she was glad of the lantern, for by Its light
she could see where tho wanderers went, and
presently the abandoned sled made her more
anxious than over, for it was evident the children
had gone toward a pond near by.
Bess was out of breath, cold, and frightened, but
she pressed on, thinking only of the lost babies and
their poor mother, for she knew that if the children
were out long ou such a bitter night i I might cost
them thoir lives.
Soo h the little ■Steps’ turned 111 A suftH* OL ecuvii,
and Bess was so glad that she had not got to look f< r
them in that dreadful pond that .she cheered up,
and ran, and looked, and called, till a faint, far-off
cry made her heart beat fast as she hurried toward
tho sound. A soft, sad wall it seemed, and tears
came to her eyes while she paused to listen from
time, to time, thinking of tho dear babies calling for
l.Oip, alone in the great wood.
“I’m coming, Arty; here’s Bess, don’t cry, little
Min,” she shouted, scrambling over logs and
through the bushes as tho wail grew louder and
louder, till she came to an open spot, and found
nothing but a small owl perched on a bare tree
blinking at her light.
Much disappointed and quite exhausted, she sat
down to rest, putting tho lantern on the ground be
side her. Then the good light did its part, for it
shone under the hemlock boughs on a little black
heap, out of which stuck four small rubber boots,
plainly seen against tho snow. Boss saw them, gave
a cry of joy, and ran to wake the children with
kisses as she hugged and patted them in her de
light. Arty opened his eyes ami shivered, but Min
lay as cold and still as if she nad been a little marble
statue.
“She Is frozen; she is dead. What shall J do?—oh.
what shall I do?” cried Bess, in despair, when she
had nibbed the purple hands and white cheeks, and
lifted the stiff eyelids, ami called the child every
tender name she could think of.
Arty seemed too sleepy to si-cak or understand,
and poor Bess could only clasp her hands and look
about for help, quite heart-broken nt tho dreadful
fear she felt that she had come too late.
As her eyes glanced from the poor baby to the,
clear cold sky, asking God to show her what to do,
the beautiful star shone on her like a friendly eye,
and made her think of the one that led the shep
herds to the manger where the Christ-Clnld lay that
Christmas Eve so long ago.
It comforted her somehow, and gave her now
strength and hope* Catching up Min, she went ns
•fast as she could toward a soft light which stiddt i>ly
began to glimmer not far off. She thought it was
the rising moon, but in a moment saw that it was
the flame of ntiro left by the lumbermen. They had
covered it, but the wind had fanned the embers,
an I one bright flame blazed up to show Bess where
lay the help she so much needed.
As fast us her tired feet could go she hurried tn the
warm sjmt, and laying Min on the hemlock boughs,
where tho men sat to eat their dinners, she raked
open the Are, threw on some dry crisp, and cover
ing tho child with her own cloak, ran back to
bring Arty a'.d the basket and the lantern. Up
sr rang a fine fire, and the blessed warmth began to
be felt as the half-frozen children lay in the full
light of the blaze, while Bess sat the can on the
coals, heated the milk, and made Arty drink some.
lie was soon awake, and when a cookie was put
into his han<l began to eat like a hungry boy, und to
remember what had happened. He told Bees all
about it, while she held Min in her arms, rubbing
her till tiie warmth returned to feet and hands, and
feeding her with little* sips of hot milk till she
sighed “Moro-nice—more,” and lifted her drowsy
little head to find the mouth of the can fur herself
Many kisses, cookies, and chips restored the near
ly frozen childreq to life, and then the question was
how to get them home. Arty said ho could walk,
but found his legs so weak und stiff that Bess was
afraid to let him try. She could not carry Min so
far; the sled was useless, and the nearest house was
a long way off. So the wise child decided to leave
them where they were, safe liy tho warm the, while
she run for help,
Explaining this to the boy, she told him to watch
Min—who had fallen asleep again with a rake in ber
hand—to throw on chipe, drink the milk, and not
be afraid till she came back. He promised stoutly;
but before she had piled up the wood, mode the fire
safe, and hung the lantern on a tree to mark the
place, he had fallen buck on the hemlock boughs,
worn out, and ns fast asleep as his little sister.
“Perhaps ft is just as well. He won’t take ilk Into
his head to run after me and get lost again. I won’t
be long, and they can’t freeze now,” said Bc»-h, as
she tucked them up under her cloak with their feet
to the fire, and laid boughs over them to keep the
small coverlet from blowing away.
Then, feeling that she had dene her best, she ran
away to tell the anxious parents ti a’ the lost babies
were safe. Tho moon was up now, and as Bess
trudged through the wood, its big bright face
rheere 1 her up, showed her the way, and seemed to
smile approvingly upon the brave little girl.
While she had boon doing her part so well, the
town bad been all astir, and people running up and
down looking fur the minister’s children. The poor
mother was sure they had fallen in the river, for
holes were found near the shore, and marks of little
feet. Everything was In confusion at the house,and
lanterns were flying to and fro like fire-flies as the
anxious neighbor? looked high and low. Noone
thought of the great pine wrxal on the hill-top. ft
wa- so far away, and the children never went there,
ft was no uon-ler people felt sure the dear babies
had fallen into the water and been drowned.
A crowd of sad-faced rncn were standing nt the
gate of tiie personage, and the old ladies were inside,
crying over the poor mother, who sat as if turned to
stone, waiting for her dear dead children to bo
brought homo U» her. Suddenly down the road
came a little figure running fust, with hood half off,
no cloak, aud panting breath.
“It s Bena I she's found them I” cried the mtn.
springing to meet her.
At the sight of help all her strength seemed to
leave the little girl, and she could only whisper
brokenly as she pointed backward, ‘ -a'e—fn tho
i woxl -by the fire -go quick Then she dropped
i Uito the strong arms of the man who stood nearest, ,
and never heard the loud cheer that went up, telii
Ing the town that the minister’s children
found.
Out rushed the startled women, and carried Best
in to l>e blessed and cried over and comforted by thtf
grateful mother, while the men went off as fast
horses could carry them to the lumber camp, which’
all knew well.
Bess was quite us-1 up, and could only lie on thtf
sofa, and be petted and praised by all the old ladies
alter word had been sent to grandma that she wai
safe.
Boon the chime of bells came merrily down th&
long hill, and the runaways were laid in theip
mother’s arms, safe, but tio sleepy to do anything
but cry for bed, where they were speedily put, (3
dream of owls and cookies, Christmas trees and
broken sleds, till next morning.
Tiie minister, who had been away at a wedding,'
came back in time to hear the story that n’gbt, and
to carry Bess home himself, a very proud aud happy l
little girl. She was quite satisfied with the thank#
and uruises showered upon her, and thought that'
would be the end of it. But the old ladies made a
fine plan for their pet, and all the next day, in spitdj
of their own dinners and gifts, they prepared for
the surprLo in the evening.
Good things to eat, warm things to wear, a load ot
wood, and no end of kind words and wishes wori
the presents left at the door of tho llttlo house thut
Christmas morning, mid Bess felt so rich it didn'}
seem as if sho could bear any moie. But when it
note camo from Arty and Mln asking hcrtocomO
upend see their tree, she was glad to go, and wrapi
ping grandma up In tho funny old-fashioned cloak
aud pumpkin hood she liked to wear, they drov,
away in style when the big sleigh came for them.
It was early in the evening on account of tha
children, who were none the worse for their prnnki
except bad colds and some stiffness in their usually
active little legs. They nearly smothered Bess with
kisses and hugs, understanding now that they owed
their lives to iter, aud it was sweet to sec the proud
air with which Arly led her in, and the eagerness
with w hich Mln brought an easy chair and nestled
into il beside her friend, not to mention the mother's
face and the father’s hand shake as they welcomed
her. All tho old ladies worq, there in their beat
caps, and a flock of children, so there was quite a
party to enjoy the tree. But first the minister made
a little speech.
"Friends," he said, “we must wait a few minutes
while tho candles are lighted, ho I will tell a story to
amuse you.” He told the dear old story of the
Balies In the Wood. But he changed it as he went
along—lie left out tho cruel nude ami the bad men;
mode it winter instea 1 of summer, so there were no
blackberries to oat, but cookies and milk; the Kind
Robin covered the babes with hemlock boughs, not
leavi's; and best of nil they didn't die, but went
home safe and well to it father and moil.er, who
were kept alive forth * express purpose of thanking
Hint dear robin. There was great laughter and < lati.
ping of him is among the children, as some tearg
twinkled out of the eyes of the tciider-ln arted old
ladies ns they listened, but every one shouted
when tho story ende l, und tho minister added;
■My runaways went to find a Christinas tree, mid
here is the one good fairies have sent them, not for
their dolls, but for Hie brnve, kind friend who aved
their lives.” Then the folding door flew open, mid
there on a table a;ood tho loveliest little tree ever
soon, till shining with caudles, golden fruit, pretty
glfty, and on Hie top a groat bright star, for Hess had
told about the ono she saw In the wood when she
prayed for help. All the children took hands and
danced about the tree until astonished Bess wits
ready to go mid take tho presents hung there for her
by these kind people, who were glad to show their
gratitude in this pretty way. Among them In mi
envelope was a year’s rent from the minister, nil
tnannerof warm and comfortable things lor grand
ma, mid for Hess a scarlet clonk and lioofl tn replace
Tl.c Old gray one burnt and torn that night in tho
wood. ’ N w .‘he lo >ks like Rod Riding-hood; but I
won't lot the old wolf cat her," cried Arty, bound to
be her Knight for evermore. “No, I think she looks
like the robin-redbreast that covered tho babes with
leaves,” began the minister, smiling at her, with hig
hand on her head. “Yes, yes, she's the robin, she’g
the good robin cried tho children,” pleased with the
fancy. And after that Bess was culled “Little
Robin" by every one who knew her, mid the old
ladles were never tired of telling how site earned the
name.
Transplanting a Forest.
From tiie Indianapolis News.
The Count of Monte Cristo was the first to
suggest the pructloubtllty of transplanting full
: grown forest trees. He Ims followers now In In
dianapolis. A primeval forest east of Hie city Is bo«
lug removed—boughs, trunks, roots and all.
i Colonel Johnson Inst summer erected a dwelling
on the open ground near his garden this side of Ir
vlngton; the aun’Nriiys l ent down on Hutt housd
blisteringly, and the colonel concluded to protect It
* with trees. One Bunnell was found who declared
ho could transplant an mijacont forest to the colo
nel's yard. Tho trees vary from ten to eighteen
Inches in diameter. Bunnell rigged up a stout
wagon, faste.iirg to Hie hind wheels mi Immense
lever, forty to fifty foot long, thick and strong. Thld
was laslicd at one end to tiie wagon. Around a
tree to be removed he dug a trench, Hie radii being
tbieo or four feet. On one side he du*; a twelvo
inch trench close to t ■* tree, mid into this treneh
he backed his wagon wheels with tho erect lever.
The lever then stood pmullel with the trunk ol tho
tree, and Hie two wore lushed together, boom
fashion. As far up as the trei-trunk was stiff tha
lever would lie tightly fa'tened, giving oue soliiß
. unyielding leverage. From tiie top of Hie logs thur
boomed a rope w is ran around a pulley fm-tened nt
the surface of Hie g*oinnfa hundred feet or inurtf
i from Hie tree. Team, bitched to Hie end of Hio
rope could then with care uproot tho tree with a
i large quantity of earth and root attaclied. When
i thus uprooted it would l.c on wheels find easilji; l
l movable, held steadily from roots to tip. The sue*
cess of the work on the Johnson place has led tql
i the removal of many large trees on the Mortal
Hide. Tho process Is I elieved to be of no hmm tq]
i the tree's ilia. Ho.cever, sptiug will reveal thi
, sequel.
♦
Hanging In I rout of Ills Hying Wife.
From the Purls Herald.
. The shoemaker Friedrich, at Goorlitz, I’rus*
. siu, had for yeui n supported himself and Ins bed-rid- 1
di n wile by working hard at bls trade. At tiie samp
time he attended to Hie household and nursed tUO‘
sick woman. The other day Hie du tor told hint'’
Hint bis wife was nearing her end, and that by nexf
morning dawn she would have breathed her last
Friedrich stood Hiunde s ruck. He battled agulust
the feverish excitement of ids blood and Lrmng'
without success. His wife did not know what td
make of Idin. Towmil midnight he fnstm c-la ropg
to a book on the wall, and In sight of hu wile, whdf
could only call to him i:u 1 beg of him to desist, bug
was unable to rise from her bed, lie hanged lifrnseif
In the n.orulng the neighbors found two corpses.
« ,
A’cm Hann Neum: Monkeytown Is tlio mime of it
new postoffice of Yazoo county, Mississippi. Doubt*
less Hie postmaster could unfold a tale.
Gained 15
••I have been a great sufferer from
Torpid I.lver and Hyspepala. Kvery
thing I ute disagreed with sue until I
began taking
T utfs Pills
) I
r euii now <H<e«t i*ny kind of food|
never have a headache, and have
cd fifteen baiinth in nefl|rlit. M i
W. A< 111 I.TZE, Colnmbla, H.
SOLD EVEBYWHEKE.
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cbM< • I 1- t /’•erfptkmaf ’♦l .00. Money r*tuuded ’A you are
| Puhi. Our Country Homs, Wallingford, ConnJ
9
