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SO NO OF CHRISTMAS.
Bound ever all waters, reach out from all
lands
The chorus of voicos, tho clasping of hands:
Sing hymns that were sung by the stars of
the morn,
Bing sengs of the angels when Jesus was
born.
With glad jubilations
Bring hope to the nations!
The dark mght is ending and dawn has be
gun;
Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,
All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as
OU(i
Sing the bridal of nations with chorals of
love,
Bing out the war vulture and sing in the
dove.
Till the hearts of the people keep time in
accord, ,
And the voice of the world is tho voice of the
Lord!
Cla3p hands of the nations
In strong congratulations;
The dark night is ending and dawn has be
gun;
Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,
All sp3:dh flow to music, all hearts beat as
one.
Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace,
East, West, North and South let the long
quarrel cease!
Sing the song of great joy that the angels
begun,
Sing of glory to God and good will to man-
Hark! joining in chorus
Tho heavens bend o’er us;
The dark night is ending and day has begun;
Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,
All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as
one.
—John Q. Whittier.
HANG UP THE BABY’S STOCKING.
Hangup tho baby’s stocking;
Be sure you don’t forget—
The dear little dimpled darling!
She never saw Christmas yet;
But I’ve told her all about it.
And she opened her big, blue eyes,
And I’m sure she understood it,
(She looked so funny ami wise.
Dear! What a tiny stocking!
It doesn't take much to hold
Such little pink toes as baby’s
Away from the frost and cold.
But then, for the baby’s Christina*
It will never do at all;
Why, Santa wouldn’t be looking
For anything half so small.
I know what will do for the baby,
l’va thought of the very best plan—
I’ll borrow a stocking of grandma,
The longest that ever I can;
And you’ll hang it by mine, dear mother,
Ilight here in too corner, soi
And write a letter to Santa,
And fasten it on to the toe.
Write: “This is the baby’s stock!
That hangs in the corner here;
You have never seen her, Santa,
For she only came this year;
But she’s just the biessodest baby—
And uow, before you go.
Just cram her stocking with goodie*,
From the top clean down to the toe.”
NEW YEAR HOPES.
Oh! never sink ’neat h Fortune’s frown,
But bravo her with a shout of cheer,
And front her fairly—face her down—
She's only stern to those who fear!
Here's “Better luck another year!’’
Another year!
Aye, better luck another year!
We’ll have her smile instead of snoer—
A thousand smiles for every tear.
With home made glad and goodly cheer.
And better luck another year—
Another year!
W. Gilmore Simms.
THE WAIF's"IHRTST.MAS.
BY FLORENCE R. PENDER.
morn!
c_C> J(£>r clcar ’ Bnow - decked,
with the bluest of
skics, and Jack Frost
and old King Sol hold*
Mv i D Jf high carnival.
j°Uy day! fore
11' told the merry laugh
' ' ® of children as thev
tripped briskly along, taking in sundry
peeps and wh'ffs of the forthcoming
feasts. Huge turkeys robbed of all
dignity, lying helpless upon their backs, j
their lauk legs upraised m protest, j
Savory looking compounds being raix*d
by cook’s deft hands, while fruits,spices,
ate., littered up the kitchen tables.
Plenty and to spare for Gcd’s poor.
At least so thought one of them, as he
gazed into the kitchen window of a
handsome d welling. Not in these words,
perhaps, would he have cxpiessed hiin
aelf, but why some should have so much
more than they wanted and others
nothing, was a riddle to him. A moment
he lingered, then turned away with the
words:
“I don’t mind much 'bout myself, but
I’d li e summat for tne little ’un.”
Rather a comical figure did this young
■ter cut as his bare feet wended them
•elves toward a less prosperous part of-
Brooidyn. Yet despite the amplitude of
ragged trowsers and dilapidated frock
coat, with its skirts reaching almost to
his ankles, there was something in the
boy’s straightforward eyes and honest
face that gave evidence that he was de
serving ol a better fate than that of a
waif. 1 'lothes, however, never troubled
him. Something to starve off tho crav
ings of hunger and a hole to crawl into
into at night, these were the things that
were the cause of thought to this child
of the streets, more especially since he
had luken unto himself a charge. Here
tofore he hid led a happy-go-lucky ex
ist cnee, notwiths’anding the snubs that
fell plentifully to his share. Foraging
for breakfast was his errand this morn,
but somehow amid so much good cheer,
there seemed nothing for him till a little
old woman, whose garb showed scanti
ness of means, paused at the sight of
the lad, and, opening a basket she car
ried, said cheerily:
“There sonny, there’s a couple of buns
and a few cookies I made myself, that
I'm taking to the grandchildren. It’s
not much, the Lord knows, but ye’re
welcome, and a blessed Christmas to ye.”
And with a friendly nod she trotted off.
Recovering from his surprise, the boy
hurried after, exclaiming breathlessly:
“Oh! Isay, thank ye. My name’s
Bob, an’ if yer got any wood to saw I’m
yer man.”
“Lor, sonny! I haves it in, in bundles,
but you’ve the right heart, and the Lord
loves a willing spirit,” then with her
wrinkled face aglow with kindliness the
worthy soul hastened on her way.
“Here’s luck!” ejaculated Bob, “and
I’m b’lievin’ what Johnnie’s mother
said,” and Bob repeated slowly.
“The Lord cares for the orphan,” ad
ding emphatically, “and I’m blessed if I
ain’t an out-an’-outer; fur a feller
couldn’t be orphaner than a feller wot
never had no father an’ mother, I take
it.”
Here, with a whoop, Bob darted across
the street. A barrel of molasses bad
been stove in, and a swarm of young
sters were scooping up the sticky mess
by every avaiiablo means. Seizing a
broken dish from out an accommodating
ash barrel, Bob secured a share of the
prize, uttering:
“I’m a squealer if we ain’t in fur a
regular jollification.”
His dish full, off he started, and after
sundry turns made his way to a vacant
lot, where shielded by a pile of bricks, lay,
tilted to one side, a large crate, partially
stuffed with straw.
“Hello, Johnnie! Wake up!” shouted
Bob, at which a little fellow, with the
bonniestof blue eyes and the sunniest of
curls, poked his head from out of the
straw in the crate, with:
“Fse here, Bob. Does us have break
fast?”
“You bet,” replied Bob, displaying
tho treat, and continuing with: “We
are going to do things in style this
Christmas. Nibble on that while I set
the table.” and Bob tossed the mile
chap a cookie; then, gravely piling sev
eral bricks together, he placed thereon
the broken dish of molasses and the old
woman’s donation, when, wedging ifta
self in beside Johnnie, and tucking the
straw snugly about them, he ejaculated:
“Pitch in, little ’an, and say grace.”
Folding his tiny hands, Johnnie
lisped, gravely:
“For what us ’bout to ’eeive, Lord be
thankful. Amen.”
To which Bob subjoined:
“Here’s to the old lady's good health!
Merry Christmas! Hurray!”
After this rather peculiar grace the
feast proceeded without interruption
until Johnnie propounded:
“What's Santy Claws!”
“Oh, he’s a chap with a jolly, red
face an’ white beard, wot goes round
Christmas with heaps of toys and sich. ”
“Will ho come here.” cried Johnnie,
his eyes opening wide.
“No, I don’t b’lieve as how he’ll visit
our establishment. I only hear tell of
him going to the nobs, as can buy plenty
for themselves,” answered Bob, grin
ning.
“P’haps—oh, Bob!—p’haps Mrs.Santy
Claws ’ull come to U 3 poor folks?” inter
rogated Johnnie, wistfully.
“Mrs. Santy Claws? I never exactly
heard of sich, but I hear say there's a wo
man at the bottom of everythin’; so I
guess there’s a nice, jolly old lady Santy
Claws,” replied'Bob, assuringly, as he
noted Johnnie’s auxious little face.
“Where’s Santy Claws live?" was
Johnnie’s next query.
“Oh, in a swell house,” and Bob,
coolly drawing upon bis imagination,
added, “no end of tip-top furniture, all
gold and heaps of pictures and blazing
fires.”
“Oh!” uttered Johnnie, with a wistful
sigh, and “it ’udbe nice there, wouldn’t
it?” Then, nestling closer to his com
panion, he added: “But it’s nice here,
too, in this warm straw, an’ I like being
with you, Bob, I does.”
A burst of joyous bells floated toward
them on the crisp morning air. A melo
dy of welcome to God’s house of prayer
“ Johnnie,” called out Bob, “how’d
yer like to go to church?”
“What’s there?” questioned the little
fellow.
“Oh, they ses prayers, an’ plays the
orgin, an’ sings, an’ folks as wants to
take a snooze. ’
“Is it warm?” anxiously asked John
nie, cuddling into the 3traw.
“Warm? You bet! An’ sofys as soft
as—as mud.”
“I’ll go!” cried Johnnie, crawling out
of his nest.
Such a quaint little figu e as he looked
all mu filed up in an old shawl, the ends
trailing on the ground as he marched
happily off, his hand in Bob’s. Shortly
after these two children stood watching
the handsomely dressed throng as it en
tered a fashionable place of worship,
till Bob, with “Now, Johnnie, look
alive, or the cop’ll nail us,” pushed the
child before him into the crowd, and,
sure enough, an alert policeman, spying
Bob, made a grab for him, which Bob
deftly eluded, but meanwhile Johnnie
was carried on toward the baize door
amid a swirl of silks and satins.
The little fellow was a trifle awed at
the church’s solemn grandeur; hut as
Bob never failed to turn up all right,
Johnnie made for an empty pew and
curled himself up on a hassock to await
his friend’s coming. Presently the or
gan pealed forth, and Johnnie’s eyes
grew round with astonishment as the
voices of the unseen choir mingled with
its wondrous tones. But soon the lit
tle head drooped, and lulled by the
sweet strains and the unusual warmth
and comfort, the child slept. Nor
heeded lie the advent of a plump, rosy
cheeked lady, whose white hair con
trasted so prettily with her still young
face, and whose companion—a stout,
jolly, florid-faced gentleman—possessed
a bushy head of hair and beard of silvery
whiteness. A faint exclamation escaped
the lady; then, turning to the gentle
man, she whispered:
“Look! The poor little lamb!”
“Shall I speak to the usher?” ques
tioned he.
One swift glance at the pale, little face
and the lady shook her head, answering:
“No, no! Let him be, the dear.”
Many times during the service the
lady’s dark eyes strayed to the little
sleeper, and once when the child stirred
uneasily her daintily-gloved hand softly
stroked his pretty curls.
A swish—a rustle—the congregation
was dismisse d The lady of the rosy
cheeks and white hair drew her sealskin
about her, but her gaze rested linger
ingly upon the sleeping child.
“Well, dame?” and a merry twinkle
glistened in the speaker’s eyes as he ad
ded: “Looks as if a turkey bone might
relish, don’t he?”
“Bless his little heart, yes—and, oh,
don’t you think we might?”
And so, what was Bob’s astonishment
—for he had lingered round, amusing
himself as best he could to see a lady
and gentleman come forth from the
church, followed by a footman bearing
the sleeping Johnnie, carefully rolled up
in a handsome carriage rug. Drawn up
to the curb was a stylish turnout, into
which the lady and gentleman stepped,
the footman placing Johnnie on the seat
beside him; then, as the lackey swung
himself on to the box, away started the
carriage down the street, Bob yelling
out:
“Jiminy cracky! if I don't believe
Johnnie’s struck ile!”
Darting after the carriage, he clung on
behind, taking care, however, to
keep out of sight of the driver and foot
man.
iroon they drew up before a handsome
house, whose wide porch wore an air of
cheery welcome. Bob, wiggling himself
down from his perch as the door closed
upon Johnnie and his newly-found
friends, ejaculated, somewhat ruefully;
1 ‘Here’s a go! I wonder what ’ull turn
up next? Anyhow, I hope it ’ull be
something soft fur the little ’un. He
ain’t calculated to rough it, like me.”
J ill I
| ®
f ji ‘ l Iv/.
A moment later “the little ’un” was
gazing wonderingly at his luxurious sur
roundings, his little hands softly patting
the old gold brocade of the lounge on
which he lay. It was every bit true, he
thought the gold furniture and pictures
and big fires- and “Oh!” he exclaimed,
as ihe rosy-cheeked lady came smiling
toward him, saying:
“Well, my little man, are we ready for
turkey and pudding?”
“Yes, please, ma’am, Mrs. Santy
( laws.” answered Johnnie, eyeing the
lady curiously, as he added, sagely: “Bob
said there was a woman in everythin’,
and he guessed there’d be a Mrs. Santy
(laws.”
The lady laughed merrily as a chuckle
issued from the region of an easy chair
and a voice remarked:
“One for you, Dame!”
“Who’s Bob, dear?” questioned the
lady.
“Why, he’s —Bob. He takes care of
me. You’re Mr. Santy. Claws, ain’t you?”
continued Johnnie, gazing knowingly at
the stout gentleman.
“Hey? Why? What makes you
think so?”
“’Cause—’cause ” and slipping
dow from the sofa, the child exclaimed,
eagerly: “Oh, Mr. £anty Claws, please
won’t you bring Bob and me some
thin’?—’cause we never has nothin’.
We s poor folks, but we ain’t bad, we
ain’t.”
“Well, well," somewhat huskily
spoke the gentlemen, “and what is your
name?”
As the child, with a look of surprise,
replied “Johnnie,” the lady cried in
eager tones;
“Oh, Ben! Our baby’s name, and the
pretty curls and blue eyes, so like. Isn’t
it almost as if God bad sent him in ex
change for our darling?”
“If you please, sir. there’s a boy what
insists on seeing you. Says his name’s
Bob, sir,” Delivering himself of this
message, the servant aw aited his master’s
pleasure.
“Its Bob. My. Bob!” uttered the
child, delightedly.
“Show him up,” was the order.
Bob paused upon tho threshold of
the luxuriously furnished room, feel
ing his dilapidated condition for the first
time, but Johnnie running eagerly
toward hi 3 young friend, drew him for
ward as the gentleman said kindly:
“Come in, my (lad, and tell us what
you want.”
“It ain’t nothin’, sir, only J see yer
takin’ Johnnie, an’ I just followed to
know what yer was minin’ to do. ’Cause
I told his mother afore she died that I’d
try an’ keep an eye on the little un, as
there wasn’t nobody else to do ’t. She
was allers good to me, she was, an’ a
lady proper, too, if she didn’t rig out
flue. Johnnie he can say grace an’
prayers which she teached him, right up
to the haudlc, an’ he’s pretty, too, if he
had fixings like rich young uns, an’ if
yer feel sorter like adoptin’ him, why,
I was goin’ to say”—here Bob paused,
then added rather hurriedly—“l’ve noth
in’ agin it, seeing as yer do the square
thing by the little un.”
Coaxingly drawing Johnnie toward
her, the lady said:
“Would you like to live with me al-
“Oh, yes!” cried the little fellow,
clapping his hands; then, interrogatively,
a grave look gathering in his pretty blue
eyes. “And Bob, too?”
A glance passed between husband and
wife, when the former said heartily:
“Suppose dame, you keep the little fel
low through the holidays, and, well, I’ll
look to the lad. How is it, my boy?
Would you like to work for me?”
“Tip-top, sir,” was the ready reply.
And so it came about that these two
waifs—Bob in a neat suit, that his kind
benefactor had managed somehow to pro
cure, and Johnnie in a little frock, long
treasured by a mothers constant love—
sat down to a Christmas dinner thaf was
a series of astonishing delights, to these
small folks.
Tears had dimmed the eyes of gentle
“Mrs. Santy Claws,” as she clothed the
tiny waif in garments that once belonged
to her little son, her one yew lamb. Yet
somehow the touch of Johnnie’s baby
fingers carried comfort to her lonely
heart and eased the regret that had long
dwelt there.
That evening as the rescued waif 3tood
enjoying the blazing logs and quaint
andirons of the old-fasbioned fireplace,
Bob suddenly exclaimed:
“Here we’ve been havin’ no end of
shindy, an’ yer ain’t said gj#ce. Just
yer fire ahead now, an’—an’ I’ll shove in
a prayer, an’ don’t forget my old lady,
cause she started us in on our luck tor
day.”
Kneeling, Ihe child, clasping his
hands, obediently repeated:
“For what us ’bout to ’ceive, Lord be
thankful. God bless Santy Claws, Mrs.
Santy Claws, the old lady an’ Bob an’
me, and please,let us live here, amen.”
“Amen! An’don’t yer fergit it, lit
tle ’un,” subjoined Bob, gravely.
As the child knelt, the firelight caress
ing his golden locks, husband and wife
stole softly in and listened to the prayer
of his baby lips, till, stirred to its very
depths was the mother’s love of this gen
tle woman’s heart, and so, clasping her
helpmate’s hand, she murmured eagerly:
“Our children, husband.”
“So be it, wife,” was the earnest
answer, as, reverently bowing his
head, he added: “And God’s gift*’
Dolly’s First Bath.
Christinns in Many Climes.
In Ireland and in Scotland, as well as
in the most of the British provinces, the
Christmas customs are very much the
same as in England, varied chiefly by
local customs and colored by the history
and habits of the j eople. The midnight
mass in Ireland, attended by a torch
light procession, is very impressive.
Dancing and open-air games amuse the
peasantry on Christmas Day. In the
Scotch highlands the day is devoted to
feasting and drinking, ball-playing and
open-air games.
iff n
livH*
’ 'V.-y
“kino out the old kino in the kew.”
“The Americans,” says the Two Re
publics, “celebrate Christmas with a tree,
the Mexicans with a pinata. Every night
till the twenty-fourth, inclusive, the pin
ata is broken. It is a large oaken vessel,
gayly decorated and filled with tooth
some dulces or candies, hung from the
ceiling in the center of the room. The
children are blindfolded and armed with
sticks to break the jug. Many are the
efforts madeby the laughing, rollicking,
joyous young volunteers to make them
selves masters of the situation, which
they finally accomplish when some mem
ber of the blindfolded brigade with a
lucky blow shatters the pinata. The
crash of splintered, scattered crockery,
the rattle of bon-bons and the candies
on the floor,is the signal for the wrench
ing off of the mask, and the children
throw themselves upon the sweets,
knowing that ‘Findings is havings.’”
Presents are then passed around, among
them China baskets, figures and silk and
satin boxes with candies. Dancing then
commences and lasts until morning.
In Hoiland the patrou saint of Christ
mas is Feltz Nickel (Paint Nicholas
dressed in fur); he is also called Santa
Klaus. He is described as a round, jolly
fellow, with a red face and merry,
twinkling eyes and white beard, who
with reindeer and sledge drives upon
the house-tops and comes down the
chimney with presents for the children,
who are taught by their parents to place
their shoes and stockings on the hearth,
where he will fill them before morning
if the children have been good. *
In Austria, Bohemia, Hungary and
Poland the day before Christmas is ob
served strictly as a religious fast. Nt>
meat is eaten, but toward evening, when
the first star appears, the tables are
lighted and the great banquet is spread,
and all partake with appetites sharpened
by the fast. At 1” o’clook guns are
fired, drums are beaten about the streets,
and every sort of noise is made until
mass begins.
$ iji :
•WMW
DECORATING FOR CHRISTMAS.
Christmas Eve with the pious country
folk in Suabia does not mean a mere ex
change of presents and compliments, but
a devoted thankfulness fpr blessings re
ceived during the year. The poor and
the rich are for the nonce made one,
their object being to insist the few of
their fellow townspeople living in
squalor and want. During the evening
hours of the day preceding the Saviour’s
birth quiet joy holds supreme sway in a
goodly portion of the thrifty villages of
the poetic Neckar Valley, and a good
will to all is expressed upon the well-fed
faces of young and old. *
1 he Targe front room of every cottage,
whose scrupulously clean floor is covered
with shining sand, is decorated with em
blems suitable to the high holiday. The
broad sill by the quaint, old-fash
ioned, small-paned window supports a
gay Christmas tree loaded down with
good things to eat and embellished by
dozens of wax whose bright
light dazzles the eye. The square and
heavy flour t-ougli in the corner is cov
ered with gifts for the little ones. The
substantial oaken table, which has done
duty in the family for per hance a cen
tury, is almost breaking down under the
weight of tooths >me morsels.
Christmas Economy.
“Mary,” said an cconohtical husband,
“I want to make you a Christmas present
this year, but I really do not know what
to get. I guess I’ll postpone it until next
year and then get something nice.”
“John, you raid that last year.”
“Really now, did I? Well, that proves
that I never forget you.”
“But, John, you may be dead by next
year.”
“Why, that's true,and if I don’t waste
my money on Christmas presents you’ll
be so much better off. Really, Mary, I’m
glad to see you look at matters in such a
sensible light.”
i
Christmas Chuckles.
The season of Christmas has many a
yuleogist. *
A Christmas belle —The girl with the
ring in her voice who will always chime
in when anything is tolled.
Why is it that Christmas is so desired
by tell-tale people? Because they then
have a chauce to give things away.
It is not the expense of a Christina*
gift that makes it precious. It is the
heart and good feeling that goes with it.
A dealer in toys advertises “Fox and
Geese” as a Christmas game. The C hrist
mas game preferred by most people is
the turkey.
Every one must have noticed that
when a man fetches home a Christmas
present for his wife it is usually so large
that lie cannot conceal it, while on the
other hand the wife's present for her hus
band is readily hidden inside the paim
of her glove.
“Live, live to-day!” the sage has said:
The present’s ours, tho future isn't;
Regret not Christmases now lied;
Content be with the “Christmas present.”
A Christmas Eve Serenade.
V\ s !' *
Russian Christmas Sports.
All of the racing is done on the ice.
There are many horses with records
which would do credit to the American
turf which were never given an oppor
tunity for speed on a dirt course. They
have run on ice and through the principal
streets of the city and can be seen in the
races without inconvenience. The main
streets are veritable race courses daring
the winter months, there being no laws
to prevent horses racing anywhere, the
drivers simply assuming the responsi
bility of danger. All men of social
standing own fast horses, and on Christ
mas day they drive them. The scene is
brilliant. The sleighs are beautiful, and
are driven by women as well as men.
Often three, four and five-horse sleighs
are in the races, and the daring displayed
is witnessed nowhere else.
In some of the bazaars at the churches
and winter gardens the girls who are in
quest of husbands go to enter the com
petition of wife hunters. They are
dressed most brilliantly, and the young
men who are in search of wives are
accompanied by their fathers. More in
terest centres in the girls and their
costumes than the bazaar. When a
young man sees a girl he likes he makes
a memorandum, and the next day his
negotiator visits her mother or guardian
and negotiations begin. It may bo net
till a match is made that the txvo see
each other face to face.
The holidays are not alone celebrated
by the elder persons. The children have
their sports. As soon as they appear on
the streets in the morning they begin to
pelt each other with rice, beans,bonbons
and preserved fruits. It is a kind of a
free treat, in which the parents fre
quently indulge ami make up what takes
the form of Christmas trees in America.
The children form in groups and march
through the streets and from house to
house, singing carols, and are given
sweets wherever they go. They are a
happy lot,even though they have not the
advantages of school and training the
white children of many other countries
enjoy. — Philaddphia Time*.
A Happy Now-Year.
Bring me a rose, and bring me a ring.
And bring mo a little plum-cake.my dearie.
The old year’s out and the new year’s in,
And we must have something to make os
cheery
/pi|
\ 'Mj.
< V'
Poke up the fire, higher and higher,
Light me the candles, and draw me the
curtain.
Old Jaeky Frost may hunt till he’s lost,
Bnt he never will find the way in, that 1 *
certain.