The Clinton News Record, 1921-12-22, Page 7vy no,
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Mackellar and Son
By Louise Richardson Rorke.
It was Christmas Day and snowing
--great feathery flakes that filled the
damp air and outlined every branoh
and twig of `the apple trees in the
orchard, and made wonderful the tall
sentinel spruces gnaidthg the• gate-
way a£ the lane—that :even clmig, ie
the soft wind to the fences and the
walls of the gray frame house• and of
the outbuildings, and cast a robe of
ermilxe over the seutheiino ate inddotvall f
the big red barn, making q
tlnet anal unreadable,. the glaring,
white legend painted across •its •face,
"Mackallar and Son,"
It was early twilight and the
struggling lights from the farmhouse
Windows were quite lost long before
they could have shone upon the big
barn; nor, since the sign was on its
roadward side, could they possibly
have illuminated it, had they done so.
Yet it was this sign which was at
present the topic of conversation in
the kitchen,
"I wish you'd get that stencil
changed, Archie?" Mrs. Mackellar
had been down cellar, hunting out
some good apples to eat. She spoke
querulausly of the brand on the bar-
rel head. "And on the barn! I never
'did like it! It looked too eons'pieuoue,
even when Fred was alive. And now
—now it's terrible: It must look
dreadful to the Almighty lookin' down
on it. Him titin' away the only son
you had, ase you persistinl in paint-
ing up in greet big letters over every-
thing'. 'Mackellar and Son'! And it
certainly must look mighty queer to
the neighbors."
"I can't see it that way, mother,
about Gad," Mackeller responded,
after a moment's silence. "An' it
don't matter much about the neigh-
bors."
He was a thin, bent, little man,
well peat middle age, with white hair
and blue -gray eye's' looking coura.ge-
ously out from a face that was clean-
ly chiseled and smooth -shaven, His
wife might have been ten years his
junior. She expressed her annoteen,ce
by an abrupt lifting of her shoulders.
The gesture was so marked that be
eontimued deprecatingly:
"That signs Ueeu.see ,t'he.leen for
six years now; ever since the October'
that Fred was sixteen, and it was that
same year we got our apple stencil
made. Fred was terrible proud o'
these apple barrels!" Mackellar
chuckled raniindseently, and, then sigh-
ed. He eat for a long moment gazing
art the edge of his paper.
"Seems aa if I just -couldn't pack
apples without that old stencil," he
said.
Mrs. Mackellar did not answer. She
had used up all • her common-sense
arguments long ego.
"It just snakes me cold and sick
whenever I get a glimpse of that big
sign, just as if I rend the letter again,
air! knew again be wase dead an never
comm' back. I don't see how you can
bear it. I never look near the apple
barrels when I can help it. It just
looks es if you dldnr't care enough to
bother buying a mw stencil."
She paused, shocked at her words;
"Of course, I knew it isn't that," she
hastened; '!but it meat look; so to the
neighbors11 ,
To her surprise, he 'nude no retort.
I wish I could get you to tray
how I .feel about it," he answered, pa-
tjently. "Fred end I were to be pert
nave -we were partnere. Of course,
now he's dead -I don't know anything
about the new life he's livin' now."
"The Bible tells you about it. He's
with the angels in Heaven praising
God, and far more happy and content
than we be here."
"Well, maybe so, mother. Maybe
so, Seems someway a, -deal easier to
feel that he's welkin' across the fields
right on this here old farm that was
to be hie, or in the box stall tallcin'
to theeolts. er no -min' in now out of
all the storm with the mail."
"I don't know whet's get into you,
father," • Mee. Mackellar answered
sunny. "You talk about Fred like a
heathen—and now when religion
would be such a comfort to you. I
with you could feel different"
"I don't know as I want to," he
answered slowly. And after a oto-
monk, "Ilut we'll have to paint the
barn in, the spring. • Wantin' hint
doesn't bring him,, an' playin' he's
here is only a child's game. We'll
paint it red again, all red."
"Wa'.1, I'd be real relieve.?," Mrs.
Mackellar answered quickly. "You'd
best buy the paint when you're in
town next week; no tel in' how it'll
aeaise in paiee, an' paint']] keep, any
time."
Mackellar rose slowly.
"I guess I'd 'better be lookin' after_
the furnace," he said.
He went slowly down the cellar
stairway, Tensing for a thoughtful
moment at -its foot, Then he turned
into the .apple cellar. The Mackallar
farm had won a reputation for its
erchard's. The apple dello: was three-
quarters filled with new barrels, shin-
ing faintly golden in the light of the
lamp which the old man held. Black
and plain acro -es every barrel head
ran the legend, "Mackellar and Son,
Grade I." Preen ,the ceiling rafters
above, depended the stencils, made of
cardboard end heavily ehellaced, in
all tho ragged stages of long wear.
It was more than time for new ones.
They broke too easily. The next
would better be of weed, or tin. Fred
had helped -'him make these—that rainy
day. out in the drive -band, just after
the boy as sixteen. Ah, well! He
took them gently from the nails, his
clumsy old bands grown strangely
tender. Foe a long minute he stood
gazing sea+aight into theblackness in leas morning when Archie Mackellar
no Christmas tires te make th
m re-
member," Yet, there was a sort of
beert-breelting comfort, too, in re-
meuritering,
'By-and-by, because she was. shiver-
ing with cold, she came out again to
the kitchen, She was knitting when
bhe door op ne,d to admit Maelteller,
white with snow. He had some let-
tere and papers in his hand. Some
weariness In his face arrested her,
even as she reached for the letters.
"You're tired out, Archie?"
"Oh, no."
He tools off his overcoat, and hung
it on the row of nails behind the door,
brushing the snow e'a2efully from -his
cap and boots. Then he went over
and sat down by the table, his hands
en his' knees,
"Ain't you going to read the pa-
pees7"
"I guess not; there doesn't seem
to be any news these clays, nothing
worth bothering over:" ••
Mrs. Mackellar opened the two let-
tere whirl?' uveae -hers, 'They contain-
ed Christmas messages and she. pored
over them with interest, holding them
eleee to the laanp. ' She 'looked • els at
last to inquire of Mackellar: !'Did you
get any mail, father?"
"Nothin' but a •circular.• • 1 didn't
bother to open it. Probably a price
list. It's from the Brockman Apple
Campaoy." He glanced toward a
large business envelope. lying on the
table. "rid look at it to -morrow;" he
The Meckeliass were early risers.
It was barely half -past six on Christ -
all the hong day,. and others and
others•stretehing.on interminably. He
dreaded 'somehow".to 'begin. this long
stretch of unending days without the
thought of Fred. ; He bead a strange
hesitation about taking up • their
simple tarps, as if, thus doing, he,, in
some way, bound himself to them.
Aimlessly he reached. for the eireular
which he had brought home the night
before. It was at'least something to
do—a feeble barrier raised with the
last remnant of eourage against the
overwhelming flood of despair.
It was not, after all, a circular. The
business envelope enclosed another
addressed simply to "Maelcellas*, in
care of the Brockman Apple Com-
pany." He opened it li,stlesely, but as
he read; his face changed, and when
he had finished, still standing by the
lamp -lit table, he went back, sheet
after sheet, ever its closely written
pages, This was how it ran:
"Dear Sir:—I am visiting a friend
of mine in Toronto, who has two bar-
rels of apples bought from the Brock-
nion Apple Company, and marked
with your brand. I had seen that
brand 'once before, and someway I
want to tell you about it. I think you
would want to know this, but if I'm
wrong and my letter only makes ymu
sad, I hope you will forgive me.
"I thought perhaps you'd like to
know that 'Mackellar and Son,' just
as it Looks in your stencil, is carved
Into the shattered trunk of a huge
tree well up into whet was then the
enemy's line, near the little village of
St. Onge, in France. It is close be-
side a sacrifice position, which was
of things on the farm; he said; 'and
I'm putting through his end here; He'd
jai y well be here, if he was younger,'
he said. 'He backed me up splendidly'
when I' wanted to enlist --to mother
and all of them. It's'Maekellar and
Son' back home where 'he's running',
the farm -alone, and -by Jove, it's going
to be 'M'ackellar• and Son' up here
where I'm.fip'htin:g alone foe both of
us, ' I've stuck the sign up every-
where we've been,' he •said, anti laugh-
ed. I'll bet he made it good, too. He
had the look.
"I had to coma away then, but we
heard next day that none of the mem
wile were with those guns escaped;
"I thought you might want to know
this abqut,the sign. When I slaw your
stencil, I some way cealdnit•help writ-
ing it to you,
"Yours, with truest sympathy,
"Arthur L. McLeod."
Mackellar read it again and • again.
Mrs. Mackellar, tired of keeping
breakfast hot, after half -an -hour of
waiting, went down the harrow drift -
hedged path to the red barn. At its
coiner, she met her husband plowing
through the drifts with the long lad-
der over his shoulder.
"What you been doing, Arcade, in
the snow, with that badder?" she
asked in surprise.
"1 was just trying to knock the
snow off the south side o' the barn,'
he answered, "It's fairly coated"
He stooped suddenly and kissed her
• "Merry Christmas, mother!" be
said.
But Mrs. Mackellar's mind was on
the barn,
Little house of Christmas, in your
white lane set,
Halfway twixt the highways of re-
member and forget,
Once a year your windows wake with
welcome taper -glow.
Once a year your gate swings wide
to feet of long ago.
Little house of Christmas, at your
fragrant feast,
All are bidden to the board, the
greatest and the least;
Silk and velvet -mantled hopes rub
elbows side by side
With little, tattered, beggared dreams
that crept in wistful -eyed.
Little hoose of Christmas, all drifted
deep with snow,
Holly -decked, and sweet with fir and
hung with mistletoe.
.All the roads of all the world cheer-
less were and drear
Were your blazing� Yule logs quench-
ed that beckon once a year,
Hands stretch welcome at your sill
the years have thrust apart,
Memories clasp -tender arms about
each lonely heart,
Long -lost faces gather close, voices
loved of old
Ring across the holly -boughs beneath
the taper -gold.
Little house of Christmas in your
white ]ane set,
Half -way twixt the highways of re-
member and forget,
May each storm -bound wanderer
weary and alone
Hear some voice call cheer to him
across your lintel -stone.
front of him.. Then, lifting the lamp
from the barrel -head, where he had
placed it, he moved resolutely to the
furnace. He wa'tch'ed the flames leap
up for the, crackling shellac, watched
thein von hungrily over the shining
surface, aatc.hed them die leaving
only a blackened mess, theeugh which
tho words. "Mackellar and Son—and
Son" glowed brightly, li,t by the coals
beneath, watched even this fade and
fall into gray ashes, and, forgetting
his reel errand, dosed the door and
carne softly 'back upstairs.
"I'm going down for the avail, An-
iite," he paid, .after a'hhesitant moment.
Someway the house seemed stiflingly
close. "Yes, I'll walk down. 'Tain't
worth the trouble of harnessing. The
storm ain't bad yet, an' it locks like
weal be snowed in to -morrow,"
"'Tatin't idkely theue'''ii be any mail,"
Mrs, blackener Insisted,
"Ne. But I guess I'll go. I—well,
I kind -of want to see Barton abottt
them new shear --he hasn't fitted
Starry ?ileo Thompson, did,"
"Men are all alike," Mrs. Maclsellar
thought as leo went out. But she
waa glad he had gone, She went into
the cold front rcioni amid steed looking
at Pried's picture, "ft would be a
better would for people who are in
trouble," she thought, "if theme were
entered the Lig farm kitchen. It had
tie usual desclate untidiness of early
day. The chairs were just es they
had been left the night before; a plate
of apple peelings was on the table;
a stray piece or two had fallen onto
the red cloth. The Christmas cards
lying by the torn envelope caught his
eye, He picked thele up listles•Tly,
and put then, down again. It was
Christmas morning. Christmas had
always beet a great daisy when Frecl
was home, , Ah, well, Fred
was gone now, and he and Annie were
getting old. The bey wies gone? It
seemed someway as if it was. the first
time he had ever really believed that
it suis so; es though soave deal* and
comforting presotioe had gone from
him since the night before. Life
seemed suddenly to have come to an
end, Tlie yestrs of •living might drag
on; here was the real death. He ac-
cepted it with an apathy strange to
him, It was more bitten' if Ices poig-
nant illian Inds first sharp grief at the
news that lrt•ed was killed, That had
been unbeldevable. This was a sub-
merging tide of reatizatien.
He moved about softly, doing the
little 'bits of morning work—the fire
to stern; hi the geate, the paths to
shovel, There wore the cattle and
homes at the htarn, and br iikfast, arae?
held by two sections of the Third Bat-
tery of the Fourth Divisional Artil-
lery. They had waited all day long
hidden there, for the engagement to
begin. I was sent up with a mcneage
for their major, and as I crept for-
ward through the trees -we were
within anew hundred feet of the Ger-
man line—I came across a boy orou.ch-
ed beside a huge tree, cutting initials,
as I thought, with a jack-knife. I
stopped to ask him a question and
glanced at 'his work, -half expecting
to see a girl's name. He had just
finished, and was closing his Iteife,
It wasn't very usual, a thing like that,
and I asked hint abort it.
"His tither and he were partners,
he peal, 'hack on the Ontario farm,
which was his hone. The day he was
sixteen, hire father had lied the name
of the firm painted up on the 'barn—
'Mackellar and Sown' I guess the boy
had been mighty proud of it. At any
rate, he'd carved 'Mackellar and Sold
over the half of France.
"It -seems he had another thought
about it, too. Ho tried to toll me in
a shy, boyish wary. gelding grow con-
fidential while they wait lute that, end
•1 was so rout elder, he seemed to
like to taut with me. Ilo and hie sled
were partners evert now, while he was
aweey, 'He's putting through my end
"Why "should you be doing that?"
she remonstrated. "It can't do any
]'arm there."
"No, no, it can't," Mackellar ans-
wered contentedly.
After breakfast, he went whistling
about the cellar, breaking now and
then into matches of song,
"What you dolt', Archie?" Mee.
Mackellar asked curiously. She pon-
dered a moment aver his answer be-
fore she went back again about her
wol,k
"Ju.st nrakin' us some new stencils,"
he had said.
A Carol
To Bethlehem beneath the Staff'
The Wise men frog), the outlands far
Caine clad in silk and vajr;
Christ Jesus in His Mother's hold
Stared at the jewels and the gold
The three made wondrous fair.
Then first the swarthy Baltasar,
Whose glance was like a scimitar,
Stood forth before the rest;
Although he bore the fragrant myrrh,
Christ .esus turned from hhn to her
And hid within her breast.
Behind him was the youth Gaspar
Who held a shining crystal jar,
His face was merry and red;
Although he bore the frankincense
And was of debonair presence
Christ Jesus turned His head,
The third was haughty Melchior,
Dark with the spoil of mart and war,
He bore the crusted gold; -
Christ Jesusgave a cry of pain
And looked not on them once again,
But nestled in His fold.
For they had brought Him treasure-trove,
But had not any little love
For one they thought a King;
Christ Jesus gave to Mary then
His first mild message unto men,Love is the precious thing.
-Duncan Campbell Scott.
• _ t
e Land of Christmas
Once upon a time there was a poor
little lame boy who had no toys.' Tom
knew this was true, for one day, at
the little boy's house, Torn asked him
to bring out his toys, and the little
boy answered, "I haven't any toys."
Tom could hardly believe that there
was anybody in the world without
even one toy, so he went home and
told Little Sister about it, and to-
gether they planned to bring the little
boy a toy from the beautiful Land of
Christmas.
Mother was willing for them to go,
so hand in band, on the day before
Christmas went Toni aid Little Sis-
ter. They did not know the way, so
they asked a feathery snowflake which
came and lighted saucily on the end
of Tom's finger;
"Pretty snowflake while you linger
On the tip of my warm finger,
Tell ine, where's the Land of Christ-
mas?"
And it answered, oh, so softly;
"Little boy end girl, politely
Ask yon tree that shines so brightly
If you seek the Land of Christmas!
The children continued their jour-
ney, and et last they arrived at the
great tree, all shining brightly across
the white snow. When the children
asked the way to Christmas Land,
thus the shining tree responded:
Step into my trunk so hollow.
Take the MWand• and follow
The Shining Path to Christmas
Land•"agic
So they stepped into the hollow
thunk, where they found magic wands.
Toni chose a silver wand with n star
at the end of it, and Little Sister a
golden one, with a white dove at its
end.
When the children stepped out of
the tree, they were surprised to fins
themselves grow very small indeed
nd this they noticed—if the magic
'wands were held deft, the children
renis:' } small, but if the wands were
lowered, fan, children • grew large
again. •
The children kneie• 'haat in the Land
of Magic they must oL ! ail the
great commands, so they `fie sir
down the Shining Path, holding
magic wends high in the air. They
journeyed on and en and at last they
reached - a greet wally -and -when they
looked np they saw beautiful lights
which spelled the words "Christmas
Land" over the tiny gateway!
Tom reached up and pulled the..bel1-
rope, and out upon the frosty .air
rang the .sweetest chimes you ever
heard. Soon the tiny gates opened
and Tom and Little Siete•' were glad
that they were small enough to slip
through! And oh, such a beautiful
land as it was? Every tree was a
Christmas tree all laden with Christ-
mas gifts, The music boxes were
playing, the horns were tooting, the
dolls were saying "Mamma" • and
"Papa," the Jacks -in -the -box were
jumping out and then hiding again,
•and everything seemed to be saying,
"Take niel Take lie!" It was hard
for the children to select just one toy
for their little friend.
•
They skipped about ter a Iong time,
examining the toys. Finally, on the
top branch of one of the tallest trees,
there hung a box tied with a big red
bow. On one side were printed the
words "Magic Lantern."
"The very thingl" said Tom; but
how could he bring down the box from
the top of a tree so tall—for, as you
remember, the children were very
small. Just then. a little breeze whis-
pered in Tom's ear:
"Little fairies, tell me why
I see you sit so still and sigh;
I will get the box for yowl"
Then the little breeze blew into a
strong breeze and flew into the top
of the tree. There he tugged and
pulled and puffed, until at last the
string had to let go and down fell the
box, red bow and all, into a salt bank
of snow. The children were over-
joyed when tho box containing the
tragic lantern was -saafe 171 their haaidel
Then they went 'bash along the
Shining Path, and very soon reached
the ,geeat -Skiving Tree, Into its hol-
low trunk they went, and lett the
magic wands, and as soon as they
stepped out into the daylight again,
they found themselves as large es
ever. They ran et and on, until they '
tidally reached the little boy's window.
Tho setting sun was painting every-
thing red incl orange ani' gold, and
when they peeped in, there lay the
poor 'boy on this little cot, and his
ettapty stocking hung from the basis
of a -chair..
The chair stood near the window,
and on the mite that was pinned tpl
the stocking Tom read the worde:
"Dear Santa Claus; If you should
happen to have just one toy to spare
for me, won't you please leave me a
magic lantern?"
• Torn softly opened the window and'
placed the box with its precious toy on
the chair news the empty stocking.
Then the children slipped away tel
their home, where they told Mothers`
their secret.
Ansi all would have gone well, ire.
the lantern had not been a magic lan-
tern; foe m some way it had taken a
picture of Tom, and another o7 Littr`h
Sister. So the next morning the happy'
little boy sat in his ehair opposite iitja
screen which his poor, herd-workiet p;
mother. had put up. Together bhey
watched eagerly for the first picture.
And would yeu believe it, that tell-
tale machine showed, first, Tom's smil-
ing face, and then Little Sister's'
dimpled one!
' Christmas."
How tenderly the Pence -song
falls
On listening ears to-night—
The song that angels sang of ':- l
In clouds of heavenly light
0 hear the voice, ye sons of melt, ,
That speaks from out the'
glory, •
And tells the strange and-mystio .l
birth—
That blessed, old-time story,
'Tis peace and love to all man.-,
kind
The angel choir is pinging.
'Tis peace and love once more
to -night
The Christmas bells are rive_,
ing..
With humble shepherds we
would haste
The Bethlehem Babe to see,
And hail with thankful song's (,
again
His glad nativity.
niversiiy Women's
Residences.
Women students at tho Univeasitee
of Toronto 0170 organizil RA raisin,
funds for a r, sidenee boiling. Por
many years e peersingrnecesecty fox'j
semen's ren•ders-'i , Pmvireial
University has. been apparent. In '
creasing nonthese of seeing wove* '
from the ruaeal districhs, Prem the vil-y
lageu. ton -re, ant cities of Ontario area,
cooling to this great inaiitttticae in;
quest of an education ankh they. 'nest
be seitaliiy and coamfortetaly housed!
,sear the University. Of the sevcre;i
buildings iehich the University of To-„
ronto so badly reeds this cue Is the
most urgent and it is to be h•,pecl that'
the young women will be su eetsJ'ol t0
their elide -aver to arouse iulered and
to secure funds for the mecnrnpl!,h,•'
ment of their purpose.
Ord Engish Carel
I saw three ships coma sailin,t; .s.
On Christmas Day, on ate -ase -as
Day;
I saw three ships come sailing is.
On Christmas Day in the 'reninge
AnCI ell the souls on era h stall sing,
On Christmas Day. or, Ch- 911)155
uay;
And all the souls on vcnt.h shall sing
On Christmas Day in the ms r..hil4
Faith never Mile; it is a n,irnrlo
worker. It looks beyond nit bound-
aries, transcends all limitatio-n , pone••
trates all obstacles and seen .the goal,
If we had perfect faith—•the faith
that moves reountaies--wa could Cure
all our ills and accomplish. the maxi.
mum of our possibilities.