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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1909-12-23, Page 6+k$++l Y+ triers, many of the latter obviously tt engaged in Christmas shopping, Slie heard cheery greetings and good wishes on ell aides; and the bright, ly-lighted windows were, crammed with festive wares. Even thievery street lamps seemed to be infected and winked with a, knowing air of geed humor. Upon Maxima the ef- fect was depressing; everybody seemedso happy, save she alone. A moment later she zeproaohed herself for the thought, as her gaze encountered a too -evident ease of rwretehedness. Standing before a provisiort -°bop, glaring into the window with almost ravenous eyes, was a thin, shabby -dressed man, and by his side" a golden -haired mite of about five, with a pretty cit but sadly -pinched face, The child was warmly though poorly clad, but the man's threadbare frock - coat offered little resistance to the keen, frosty air, and he shivered visibly. Suddenly an empty, gaily -decor- ate(' cigarette box—dropped from the top of a passing bus—attract- ed the child's attention and she ran into the road to secure it, heedless of an oncoming motor -car, Marion , quietude intensified her suspicion, saw the danger, and, conscious land she resolved to strike boldly. only of the little one's peril, rush- t'You know that he is innocent," eti forward, Snatching up the child she said, sternly. "Even as I, who she turned and jumped for the pave- air his wife, know it." ment again. She was barely in Robert Western sprang to his time, for the car whirled past just feet. "I -I— you—you are his as she fell heavily over the kerb, wife," he cried, "and you saved my but with her precious burden safe little girl's. life Y" .He paused sud- in her arms. duly, as though an idea bad ar- It was the rescued mite's compan- rested his words, and, sinking into ion who helped her to rise, his face the chair again, hid his face in his deathly white, and with trembling hands. hands. Marion was unhurt, but the . Marion watched him with misery child's forehead was cut and bleed- andtriumph battling in her heart. ing. Seeing that the inevitable She felt sure of his guns now, and crowd was gathering, Marion pus/a- if only she could persuade him to ed her way through, still holding play the man John Dane would re - the little one. gain both liberty and fair tame. "Come with me," she said to the Threats, she recognized, were use less, since she had no proof. man, who was trying to stammerHer his gratitude. "I live close by, and one hope lay in appealing to his the child must be seen to at once, honor, his gratitude, and, perhaps though I do not think she is ranch —well, he had been a gentleman hurt." once. She waited until he looked This roved to be the case The up, and then her eager appeal rang HIS CHRISTMAS 2' GIFT 57. In the cosily -furnished sitting room el a fiat, situated near a busy London thoroughfare, a woman sat at a typewriter, Yoking as she was in years—not yet thirty—her silver - streaked hair and the grave beauty of her face told of a life in which sorrow. pleyed no entail part, And, indeed, Marion Dane's story was a Bad one. Scarcely more.than two years be- fore she had counted herself the happiest woman in the world, with a husband who was .still her lover and a child. whom they united in spoiling. Then came the first blow —the loss of the little girl—and it had seemed to Marion .that life could have no greater grief to give. All too soon came the bitter realiz- ation of her mistake, when, but a few months later, her husband was arrested on a charge of embezzling the moneys of his employer. That he was innocent she never doubted, but the circumstantial evidence was apparently conclusive, and he was sentenced to five years' penal servi- tud•. Five years 1, And little more than one had passed, spent in unremit- ting nremit ting toil and strenuous but unavail- ing endeavor to find the real cul- prit, for that her husband was guil- ty nothing but his word would have convinced her, and John Dane had protested his innocence to the end. The °lick of the typewriter ceased, for she had written a word which' called up '"a crowd of memories -- "Christmas." It was very near now and for her it meant nothing but as added poignancy to her grief. Save for the old servant, Martha, who lived with her, she was quite alone in the world, and Christmas is the time when loneliness comes moat home to those who tread a solitary path in life. She thought of the last wretched Christmas with a shiver, and then pictures of bygone joyous ones came to torture her. How happy they had been, poor as they were, for her husband was only a clerk. Her mind' travelled to the gloomy prison where—herded with common erim- !uals—be-would spend the great fes- tival, and, with an angry little shake of rebuke to herself, she re- sumed her task. It was soon completed, and after reading and correcting the sheets she fastened them together and signed them -after a moment's he- sitation—"John 1,aymond,'' her husband's Christian names. She had done thia scores of times in similar circumstances, but never without the momentary pause and a passing doubt in her mind. "Surely. it cannot be wrong 1" she murmured. "I have learned all from him; the thoughts are his, the words are those he would use, and, until lately,.even the plots were his own.. Besides, it is the name that' sells the work now, and his stories gained that," m John Dane, like any others doomed to ignoble drudgery, had possessed ambition, and, partly to satisfy it and partly to augment a somewhat scanty salary, he had employed his evenings in literary work, only to discover that, though a few authors may be born, most of theta have to be' made, and that rejected manuscripts accumulate with astounding rapidity. Of these apparently worthless proc'iuctions, scarce a bare half-doz- en now remained, for Marion—who had unbounded faith in her hus- band's ability—had turned to them in the hour of her need. Neatly typed out, they had, one by one, found resting places in various pa- pers or magazines, until with the publication, in book form, of a story which caught the public fancy, "John Laymond" achieved a mod- erate popularity, which was not do - creased by the'feet that no one knew anything of him, and that he resolutely declined to be inter- viewed. His wife transacted all his business.. To Marion the thought that her husband would come out of prison a ruined man, disgraced for all time in the eyes of the world, and imme- diatery, by the mere sinking of his. real name, become a person of some consideration, gave profound joy-' It seemed something of a at- eeen A COLD CHRISTMAS, Girl (reading)—"Gold feet are usually caused by . indigestion, brought on by over -eating." There, Jimmy, now we know wot's the matter of us! P injury was a mere scratch, but o11,t,. ashe silo . Western !" . "You Marion would not leave hor little W guest until she had been fed and no was quietly sleeping. Then she re- joined noww told I ask you ou to think your sufferings f wwhaat my and the father -for such he was —whose wants had been attended to by Martha. The poor fellow was profuse in his gratitude, and her sympathy soon drew his story out. "It is the common talo of a weak man crushed by misfortune," he began, bitterly. "My name is Robert Western, and it is not yet two years since I had all tbat a man needs—a position by which I could live, an angel for 'a wife, and my little girl. Then my wife was taken away, and I think all that was good in me died with her. Perhaps you cannot realize what it means to lose—" He paused awkwardly, and Mari- oa said, in a low voice, "I think I can; I have lost both. You have still your child." "Forgive me," the man murmur- ed, brokenly. "I should have known that such pity as you have shown me, an outcast, could only be begotten of grief. ' Yes, it is true I had my little girt, but, wretch that I was, I still rebelled. I sought the weak man's consola- tion, and trod the road to ruin recklessly. In a few months I had been warned again and again, and then the inevitable end came -I was dismissed. I had been with the firm ten years, but I cannot blame them; I had every latitude. Since then I have had chances, only to throw them away, and now—I am a beg- gar." Marion listened to the sordid con- fession with moist eyes, and, so far from exciting her contempt, .ie strengthened her resolve to aid hien. She measured his misery by her own and knew its despairing depth. "What is your work?' she asked. "I was a clerk in the offices of Messrs, Corder and Wayne, the City merchants," he replied. Had he been looking at her he must have noticed the sudden start and the deadly pallor this reply produced in. Marion. With an ef- fort she controlled her emotion, and said, quietly,— "The name seems familiar. Was there not a prosecution by that firm some time ago?" "Yes," replied Western. "One of their clerks, named Dane — my senior—and he got five years for em- bezzlement." "Ho was innocent!" Marion cried, almost harshly. The astonishing change and the ting revenge upon a social system deep conviction in her voice start - which could condemn an innocent led Western, who looked un and man to infamy; and now that what flushed as he met her scrutinizing gaze. "1 'rave always thought so my- self," he muttered, awkwardly. Marion's eyes never left his fare. gold. Directly her means allowed At the sight of bis confusion a sud- she moved from the little suburban den suspicion had been here in her house to the fiat in town, where mind. This man .easily tempted— she was known only as Mrs. Lay- had been on the downward path at mond. the time the crime was committed. Presently she went out to post She -remembered his name now, and her story, toe wbieh the editax of a that at the trial it had been shown great weekly periodical was impa- that Ire was one of the two ethers tiently waiting, and; having done who lind meccas to her husband's fel this, she stood for a moment regard- sifted books. What if in his rock- ing the scone around her. It was loss dosneir he had taken the money not yet late, and the street was and sir;lfullyfixed the theft upon thaonged with whittles and nudes- bis follow-olerk1 His increasing in - she had striven fon since the ac- ceptance of the first story had be- come an accomplished fact, she guarded her secret like a raiser his turned to the figure in the chair Whom her husband now noticed le the first time, "Western I" . he cried, "How cams you here'" It was his wife who answered the question, briefly relating the event of the evening, and concluding wit! Western's determination to at aaic right the wrong done to his fellow - cleric, Dane's features tos on singular 'expression es. he listened, "Western,"' hs said, "do you rea- lize what prison -life means to en educated man! Have you thought of the physical disoornfort, of the grinding ignominy of being herded like cattle hi pens with the very dregs' of humanity, of the awful mental starvation 1 Were you pre- pared to face all this!" "Yes." The speaker's voice was firm, and his eyes met those of his questioner steadily. "Knowing yourself to be an inno- cent man 1" persisted Dane. "Innocent 1" It wee Marion who spoke, "Certainly," said her husband. "He is no more guilty than I am. The thief was old Solmay, the cash- ier, who confessed to it just before he died. Mr. ()order at once brought pressure to bear on the au- thorities and secured my immedi- ate release." Marion's eyes turned wondering- ly to Western, and he smiled sadly as he said "Yes, I acted a lie to you. I saw that you believed me guilty, and in a flash it carie to me that here was my chance to ensure my little girl's happiness and make her some re- paration. With you she would have every comfort, and, being young, would soon oease to miss me, and —well, I yielded be temptation once more. It was to have been my Christmas gift to Iter—my last and best.,, He rose to go, but John Dane pushed him back into his seat again. "We've not finished with you yet, Western," he said."And I've not told all my news, Marion. Mr Oroder has offered me "my old post in the firm, at an increased salary, and—why, what's this?" For his wife had taken a neatly - bound volume from the bookshelf husband has endured, and must en- and placed' it in his hands, On the dure for years, unless you set right title -page he read the name of ,the this terrible wrong. Deprived of all story -a name he had grown to he loves, branded with shame, and hate the sight of in the past as the forced to herd with felons—he, an manuscript came back with unfail innocent man. I do not know how ing regularity from publisherafter Co you were tempted when you m publisher. mitted the crime, but to let another. "My story!"'he oried. "Publish - suffer for it is infamous—cowardly. ed 1" You ask that I have saved your "Yes, your story," replied Mari daughter's life..:I ask you for my on, adding, ;"I did not alter a husband's liberty and honor fn re- single word, dear." turn, and if you have one spark of Like a man in a dream he learn - manhood remaining you cannot — ed how his -brave wife had earned dare not—refuse." fame for him while he was suffer She was standing before him now; ing infamy, and, though, he said her hands outstretched, and a world little,; rho love in his eyes made up of passion in her voice. :Western, her. hat reward. , bowed and stricken, was silent, for "And as you won't need to go some 'moments, and then. ..a a low into the City again, perhaps Mr. voice, he asked :— Corder "And my little girl; what would: aused. will give— Marion become of heel She has no one but p "He shall," John said, hear i7y. me " "He can't refuse me that. What "She shall stay here," Marion d� you say, Western 1 You've had cried, eagerly. '`I swear to you that' a, hard lesson, and I don't think she shall take the place of my own lost baby, and—she shall 'never know the truth." Western looked up, and Marion knew that, she had won. There was an expression of fixed resolve on his face which seemed to wipe out the marks of weakness and dissipa- tion. "I will do it." he said, "I will. give myself up to the police and clear your husband's. name." The words had but left his lips when a ring came at the door. A cry of surprise from Martha follow- ed. and then the door of the sitting - room was flung open and a grey- haired man entered. "Marion I" he cried, and in an instant she was in her husband's arms. "And you are really free, John 1" ?Marion asked for the twentieth time; it was so difficult to realize, even with his strong arms about her "Yes ; the real culprit has confess- ed at last." "But I don't understand," Mani- on said, and her wondering eyes he didn't. r s a a you'll fail again:" Robert Western stood up, a man once more—the slough of his old weakness cast for ever - "No, I'll not fait again," be said. "No man can fail who has such friends." He looked round, and Marion, di- vining his thought, said, softly, She is in the next room. Ho went out, and some time lat- er, through the half -open door, she saw him kneeling by the bedside, his lips upon the hand of the sleep- ing child. Outside, the busy life of the street went on, but it had a Chang- el note for Marion now. Bach boisterous, greeting found an echo in her own heart, and everything seemed to be crying aloud, "A Merry Christmas l"—London Tit- Bits. 1, - "What shall you do at Christ- mas -time 1" asked the goose. "What the rest of tit world will be do- ing -gobble 1" said the turkey. But THE ONLY WAY OUT. Mrs. Casey—"I don't know what we'll put in little Patsy's stockin', Mike. He writ alatther. t' Santy Clans axin' f'r a rale auttymobile, no lista" Mr, (iesoy---"Shure, we'll drop a few drops iv gasaylino in it an' 2'll bet he'll be thankful ;he didn't git th' rist iv the machine.r fHU UGLY DUCKLING f • **44440414444444144n114* It was Christmas Eve, and in the West -end of London many father and mothers were smiling happily as they watched their little boys and girls busily chatting togother in groups around the bright ;fire side and whispering: coufideetially about the many good things that always found their way into the stook/tip they hung up at the end of their bode after Father Christ, man had paid his accustomed visit to their snug homes' by way of some unused chinzney—which, I must tell you, is the way the children's best friend of the year always enters t r that memorable occasion when he makes his annual call on Christmas Eve to see, that the stockings of all good children are filled with gifts after their own heart, But, alas 1 there are lots and lots of children in this old'woeld of ours whose parents cannot even offer) to buy fire, to say nothing'of fool, for either themselves or their fem. ilies; and this also was the cane when a certain Christmas fairy I have known over since I was a lit- tle girl --early in the New 'rear she always comes and tells me about the various visits she paid at Chriat- mac-tido—called to see a poor cab- inet-maker and his wife who lived. in a back street near Hoxton Square, which, of course, you know, is m the East -end of London, quite close to Shoreditch. s Igen; and what she oxpeeted would ktapp1en did happen, The ugly duckling of the family, who had been a cripple all hor life, sighed sadly to herself as she saw lzer• she.- tare ic.tern trip happily out of the room to spend the fixe shillings, and then, tired out though sho was, she press- ed hor little thin lips together de- terneinedly and crept aortae the room, and, bending over thorn as they slept, she whispered, "Never mind, father and muUher, dear, I'll see that you, anyhow, have a Christmas dinner to -morrow." Thee, stopping softly $o as not to �1< CHRISTMAS ±' CONFECTIONERY iffestakellatelafolatelefatatelefeiatalele Almond Creams -Mold an almond i rte each small ball of fondant and roll the 'balls in granulated sugar.' • Data Crcame.—l,temove seed from number of dates to be used; put - awake thein, she staggered down a little fondant iu caolr date, press the eteirs, clotermiued at all costs together and roll' in granulated that, before she returned home, sugar, somehow or other --for the life of Walnut Oroarns,—Add a little va- nilla or other flavoring tothe fon- dant when beating, After knead- ing, farm into smelt ovals, and press the half of an English wal- nut on each. Gingerettes—Melt a piece of fon- But, unlike Father Christmas, who enters the house by way of the chimney because he doesn't like walking through the open door in case any wide-awake child should see him, my Christmas fairy flue- tared in through a broken pane of glass in the one room which these poor people used as a whole house —sitting -room, ; bedroom, dining. room, drawing -room, bath -room, and kitchen combined. Instead, however, of finding a father and Mother surrounded by happy chil- dren, full of high spirits at the thought of the lovely presents they were going to receive on the follow- ing morning, my fairy, as she soat- ed herself on the window -sill, where she hid behind a torn, ragged strip of linen which did duty for acur- tain, saw only a poor man whose clothes were tattered and torn and full of holes, and his wife, whose dress and blouse rooked as if it had been dragged through a miece-meat machine, asleep in a corner all by themselves, huddled together to try and keep each other warm because they had no fire, and the wind was whistling so icily through the brok- en pane of the window. Seated behind the rickety .bed- stead, which was pushed right up against one side of the wall in this poverty-stricken home, were three young children whose garments plainly showed that they were very poor. But in spite of their shabby clothes and dirty, besmirched faces, it was impossible not to notice: that they were very, very pretty. - "If only they would km- i themselves clean," thought the fairy to 'her- self, "how lovely they would be 1" unfortunately, this wish was all in vain, for the children, poor as they were, cared nothing for cleanlinses, neither did they ever think of try- ing to ears nroney for their par- ents by honest work, as they much preferred to spend their day beg- ging in the streets from passers- by, many of whom frequently care- lessly tossed them a copper or two —and sometimes a piece of silver— "just because of their good looks." On this Christmas Eve, moreover, mS fairy heard the children asking each other questions es to what "they should do with the five shil- lings they had collected by begging in one afternoon." "We won't give a penny to father," said one, "because ho hasn't given us any- thing for weeks." `Neither has mother," chimed in another voice, selfishly ; "all she does every day is to go cut early in the morning and come back at night, and say that sho can't find any work." "Won't you give anything to ms l" a voice asked, as their tiny sister, a delicate, fragile -looking cripple, raised herself wearily from a heap of straw lying in a'dark cor- ner at the far end of the room. "I'm so hungry, and I, too have been out all day trying to earn a few : pence by selling matches for father and mother --and you, too," she added, plaintively, "because to -morrow is Christmas Day, and I did so hope that we might all have enough to eat, all in the same day, just for once in a way. "Oh, you're so ugly that no ono will ever help you," said the other throe children in chorus. "Don't tall: nonsense, but go to sleep like father and mother. They can't earn anything now, because no one will give them work, so if you want any- body to help you don't ask us any more, but go to thorn --we've got five shillings, and we mean to keep it, too. Do you hear,no one cares for plain children --and you're an a ugly duckling if ever there was ono'" My New did not say a word, but just waited to see `what would ban- hor she couldn't have told Yon hew she would earn enough money to buy a Oltristmasdinner for the next day, The streets were crowded with busy, " "hustling" passers-by h • on making their .purchases as soon dant in a double boiler or in a our as ;possible, and, as she reached over boiling water. Stir into it the street, the little cripple saw -her candied ginger cut in small pieces. three sisters buying bags of sweet- Pour into a square, shallow pan meats at a confectioner's close by. and when it is hard cut into strips She felt half inclined to ask if sho with a sharp knife. might share some of the good things Nut Rolls. ---Take equal parts of. hidden' in the inviting -looking bags whatever variety of nut treats you ' with which they were filling their prefer. and fondant. Mix well and pockets, -when sudden' a 1. y ' great form into- a roll. Cover this with shout. runt the air: plain fondant,- roll in granulated At f, 11 t e s od down t road,. great! sugar, Pthe-dash g and lot harden until next ing wildly into carts and barrows' day, then cut crosswise and all obstacles which barred its Coffee Caramels.—Two cupfuls of mad career,: galloped a runaway granulated sugar, half a cupful of horse in a hansomand but a few strong coffee, and one cupful of yards ahead, th,e middle 61 the cream. Let the sugar and coffee road, stood a little girl rooted with boil together for five minutes, add terror to the spot. ' On, an, on, came, the cream' and boil until the candy the horse; but. still the terror- strings' when "dropped from the stricken child made no move! Hun- spoon. Pour into a buttered Pan Breda of eyes were on her, but MI and when cold cut into squares.. looked foolhardy to try and save Fig and Nut. Squares. -Pour a her now 1 It surely was too late! layer of melted, fondant into an Suddenly, as all expeotad to wit- oiled or buttered tin square. Have'. Haas the s]ekening sight of the child ready half a pound of dried figs, being trampled to deathbeneath which have been Mewed in a cup the. hoofs of the . bolting horse, a of water until pulpy. Add • p the slight, ragged -looking child darted' figs two pounds of sugar and a cup- like lightning into the. road, and fal of chopped nut meats. Cook whop next the passers-by dared s un, raise their eyes Choy saw, on the ovthier the -layer oftil fstiffondant,then . Whenpour opposite pavement, an ngly, 'mis- the fig and nut layer has hardeuere s hamen little cripple doing her best pour over it another layer of the tr. comfort - a sobbing - little girl melted fondant. - When cola, re- move from the mold and cut in whose beautiful. rich clothes plainly showed that site belonged to weal- squares, thy parents, and could, therefore, Chocolate Ortams.-Dust' the only be a visitor to this poor dis- molding board with as little.:flour trier. as possible and roll a piece of fon- "The pinokiast deed I ever saw," dant into o cylindrical shaPe. Cut said a big, burly policeman who it into regular shaped pieces, roll game on the scene at thio moment. between the palms of the hands nn- "Biit why are you down hero ti] rohtd, lay on paraffin paper, and alone?" he said to the sobbing let harden until the next day. Melt child. Scarcely were the words oub a cake of chocolate in a rather deep of his mouth when an old ge WC- vessel that has been set in a pen man, dressed in a big fur coat and. of hot water, add a.piece"of paraf carrying many neatly -tied -up we fin half as large as a 'walnut, the cels under his arm, arrived nn the same amount of butter, and one - scene panting and out of breath fourth teaspoonful of vanilla. Roll and explained that he had came the cream in this by using a steer down to the East -end with his lit- fork or crochet needle and place tie girl to pay an annual visit to again on paraffin paper. seine poor people he always visi`n1 Fondant.—This is the foundation there at Christmas -time, and had of nearly all French candies, and left her for a moment outsije a when once the art of making ib is shop while he made some pur. mastered, a large variety of can lies chases. are easily made. To ons pound of "You have saved my little girl's sugar add one-half pint cold..wMer life," he said, bending down and and one-fourth teaspoonful cream taking the dirty Little cripple ten- of tartar, and boil rapidly for ten derly in his arms. "In future you minutes without stirring. Dip the must come and live with us and fur- fingers into ice water, drop a a - gat all your troubles and col and tle of the syrup into cold water, htmger." then roll it between the fingers nn- But the ugly duckling indi ,ant• til it forms a soft, ,creamy,inad- g g 1 . ly refused to leave her father and hesive ball. If not hard enough boil mother and "sisters; so that, despise a little longer, and if too hard add all his efforts, the old gentleman a little water, boil up, and tont was forced to leave his tittle iii-nd again. Set aside_ in the kettle to £r that one gloomy room in a beck become lukewarm, then stir the street in Shoreditch. But wh,u t,e mass with a ladle untilit is white left a bright fire was crackling in and dry at the edge. It sho•il,l the grate; a big hamper, full ofthen be taken out and kneaded, ex every. sort of Christmas fare you actly as one would knead bread could possibly imagine, stood on the dough, until it is creamy and soft. table; and on the mantelpiece, in a By covering with a damp cloth and glittering heap, ley ten golden sov- ereigns and :two crisp, crinkly Bank of England notes. And from that night the ugly duckling and her father and mabher and sisters never knew what ib was to want again. But in the blast end on Christmas have people still recall that terrible scene when a little girl was literally dragged fr-,m beneath the hoofs of a r,,,,,,ay keeping hi a cool place it will kelp well for several days, and several times this amount may be made at one time. In making several pounds it is better to divide the rotes before kneading, and each part may be flavored differ- ently. CHRISTMAS TAFFIES. horse by a half-starved, dirty, rag For ease of preparation, and ver- ged' little cripple. . They think the tainty of success, nothing excels taf- child was saved by a miracle! fy, and the variations are so num- But you and I know different. ernes as to be all -sufficient in the We know that at Christmas, and ail snaking up of a gift box. From a other times of the year, too, there is plain vanilla taffy nearly all the a fairy who always watches over and ,other ,varieties may be made. If protects from all harm every libtlo working alone it is best not to boil boy and girl in the world who is too Much at once, owing to the' clif- trying to help anddo good to ficulty of pulling it before it cools. others. , Stir half teaspoon cream of tartar through ono and a half pounds cof- fee A sugar ; add half pint water, and sot over a brisk fire. Stir un - The value of toys exported from til dissolved, but do not stir after one locality—Sonnoberg, in Ger- it begins to boil. When the bubbles many—alone during a recent year rise large and thick, drop a little was $13,700,000. It is here that in cold water; if it breaks with a most of the cheap toys .. sold at crack when taken between the fin- Christmas come .from, and the male gars it is done. Pour at once into adults in fey factories are paid from large platters or spans that have 06 cents to 62 cones per day' of ten been greased. Porte half teaspoon yours for the matiufacburo of dolls, vanilla over the surface, and throw the edges of the candy toward the centre as fast as it cools, until all is cool enough to handle. Grease the hands with a very little butter, and pull until white. 1f one has a large hook' to throw it over fot> pul- ling when it • begins to pullhard it will be much easier on the arms. NO Day, They have occurred on When too hard to ''fall longer draw December 24th and 261:11, bat the out to a uniform thickness and lay • anniversary of the advent of ream on slightly greased pans to harden, on Earth has over been observed when it is easily broken witb a by a cessation of hostilities. sharp rap of a knife, and female operatives fl7 cents to 50 cents, while the younger workers earn from 20centsto 50 cents, PEACE ON EARTH. It is a significant fact that no great battles were fought on Christ-