Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Clinton News Record, 1918-12-19, Page 5THE HIGH COST OF GIVING By Esther Bali Dixon 111eaihor reeked slowly cure! - s ueekfoant mann ee shut lay silently Os.q y fl .fly in the farmhouse living -room--- toning with a soft (lull splendor es she 'net the '=white house with green shut- held it up at' arm's length, her bosom ters and led barn" farmhouse of On- heaving with unexpeeted emotion at tario, but a two -room shack on a the sight, southern Alberta irrigation tract, Her wedding gown! As she ga0od, Suddenly, with qq sigh that limonites faces rose in tiers jaofore her, glad, •O(1 itself thep erlo to a longreverie, tender, faces with ahiltin eyes and she rose madwalkeda to chet at one smiling p li s -slier friendegaa she lead •enti of the room, looked epee. them when she had tent- ed front the altar by John's side a She lifted the cover, and as she did so a letter slipped to the:floor, re- Year ago. She remembered how her leased from an accidental !riding slippered feet had scarcely seemed placelace, It was sealed and addressed to 'touch the rose -strewn aisle, and but lot np, , 1 .' 1 ed she i:eit as if she were again floating six "Now, how ww n•t the world—I"' .ex< to the -majestic tones of the,organ re - .N sessional, her 'hand enveloped in the enrve of Jethn's proudly extended arm. A emcee noise brought her to the present with a start. It was the claimed Eleanor picking up 'the let= tor, and, after examining it: "My first Plotter to Eva, and I had to write an- other," teakettle boiling over! She toxo Open the letter and be- . ame immediately engrossed bythe Thero ,seems to be a teakettle in s y g lines from her own pen, written'srx'.tho life of everyone, As •sho walk - months before to her dearest girled to the stove to set the kettle back -friend back ill Toronto, her own form- her hands were unloosing the fasteal- er home. It was like meeting a Ings of her gingham house dress, but ghost of herself to come.face to face in a moment a new thought assailed with her thoughts of six months ago' set down in black and: white, "John built our, little home him- self," she read. "And what do you suppose I have in the kitchen? A sink!" Just where it ought to be, I suppose •you'll say, but I want -yen to. know that I'm the first'wonnan on this tract to have a sink. "Our home has just two rooms..Tbe combination living -room and bed- room is 16 by 10, and the .dining- room and kitchen is 9 by 16. .John stained the living -room woodwork in brown mission, to match the furni- ture we bought, We have. one large window in the front, where we get a bdautiful view of the mountains in the distance, and the rest of the win- dows are the small -cottage style. I have curtained them in scrim: Our rug: is tan; and the walls are covered with burlap. 'Our bed pulls. up to the wall in daytime and does service as a mantel. So you see, Eva, when we get our pictures hung it will be very homelike." • Eleanor looked around. The pic- tures were hung. It was. homelike. "There isn't much room for argu- ment .lir my little kitchen," she con- tinued in the letter, "but there are advantages in being able to stand in the middle of the floor and reach everythingyou want." And then came the details in ar- rangement of thekitchen, told with such accuracy that Eva might have entered in the night and have put her . hand on any pot or kettle. While thiswas a truihful descrip- tion of her new home, there .ryas something which Eleantor had not told about her, arrival in the little town pf Murvale, and that was of the big lump that had come into her throat when the train began to slow down for the station and her eyes could see nothing but miles and miles of sagebrush from the car window. Timidly slie had touched John's coat - sleeve and strained back the tears as she had asked: • "Why, John, why—where is Mur - vale? Where is the town, John?" And how sweet and patient and jolly he had looked when he had bent down to say: "Cheer up, dearie. There's a cow standing in front of it." (i And then they had both laughed and the day had been saved. John was always saving the day. Eleanor was the only woman on the tract who had a sink: Christmas was but ten days away. She had exactly sixty- three cents with which to get a pres- ent for John—her John! So the thoughts jangled about in her head. Sho returned to the letter. "I really haven't had time to get homesick and I think I'll keep so busy that I never shall have the time I know that' you . and all our friends aro still wondering why we came otat here. John came in March to prepare the way when you ritlta�, a�"jt3 thought it was a business trip. For i, Y;l•,` by .l ti months there had been a heavy black cloud over our little home by the lake. It seems to me like a nightmare now —those terrible days .when John had to stagger home from work in semi - her. Suppose—suppose ehe had changed too much! • The absurdity of the thought was lost upon her, and she sprang in real anxiety to the narrow mirror that hung over her sewing machine, and stood staring into her own. reflection With tense interest. '' Except for the lines .which fatigue had deepened around her mouth,. `there was nothing especially the matter with what she saw. Her hair still waved. It was, nice hair, red - brown 'with gold glints 'in it. Her forehead wasn't intellectual. It was too low for soaring intellect, but it was broad and smooth. No fault was to be found with the brown eyes, and the nose was unobjectionable extcpt for the faint, hardly visible glints of a few freckles which last' sum- mer's sun had whipped into being: Reassured that she wouldtibe spared the pain of seeing an old -worn face above her beloved gown, she caught up the wedding' dress and- with a few deft motions slipped it over her head. Then she became absorbed befos a the every stitelt nnyself. .and it's the S1.001'- 00 reare lh thing I own." Mrs, Valentine roamed away with a• gouty look of defeat, "Just as you feel about it It's e dream, and the style's as good es when it was 'made, ;fendernbroidery is always good, arid, especially in Pearls. The: finites± About the waist could easily be adjusted to fit trip. If you ehonld change your mind, I'll give you—fifty dollars for it." After Mrs, Valentine's visit, Mean - or, as a vent to her feelings, plunged into a frenzy of House-cleaning. With an armful of garhnenta to be shaken she went out to the clothesline in the' back yard, She was surprised to hour voices, and, shielding her eyes from the glare of a blanket of snow under the bright Alberta sun, she saw John in conversation with a stranger ort horseback. As she flung the clothes over the line their conserve - tion came clearly to her ears through the stillfrosty air. "It's first-class," affirmed the stranger. "Gen -u -wine rawhide cantle; band -stitched, brass cap, and this here's real russet leather." Most of this unintelligible to Eleanor, but not the answer to John's question: • "How much do you want for it?" "Fifty dollars," was tlto answer. Once more in the house Eleanor went to the telephone. Rural ser- vice in this new country was slow. ".'Hello!" she called.,- "Hello; Opera, tor, get ';zeie.the company's camp, please. I want to stalk to Mrs. Valen- tine:" . Asslie rose from the telephone, Eleanor looked' through,. the kitchen window just in time to see John lead - ling Beppo out to be admired.:. John, too, had a prized possession. It was a thoroughbred riding horse, the gift'of a wealthy Ontario uncle. It had been presented to John when he came' West,: the uncle'sidea of .ranching being, apparently, to mount a blooded steed and ride ''h' er'nvasb estates each day. John had not questioned his necessity for the beau- tiful creature, but had accepted him enthusiastically because his natural love of animals had been intensified by years of city life. Beppo was never put to the heavy blindness. And than came the ver- dict of the specialist—unless' John oould break entirely away from the office, abandon his law, and live out ' of doors he would be blind in a few months." In spite of her cheerful resolve not to be homesick, and in spite of the work which had kept Eleanor's fin- gers constantly busy, there had been days when her 'heart was so heavy that it seemed by virtue of its very preponderance to drag her mind, wil- ly-nilly., back to the little home they had left. And never had this feel- ing seemed harder'to conquer than in these days just before Christmas. She missed the bustle and hum, the shop- ping, hordes, the gayly trimmed store windows and red Santas.on the street corner's, the parcel -laden delivery "Dearie," he whispered, "I'm going to put my Christmas present away for a while. It's—it's too nice to use right away." narrow 'mirror in an endeavor to get an accurate reflection of herself in tote by presenting a rapid succession of longitudinal strips. Suddenly the door behind her burst open. She wheeled, and confronted the pop -eyed countenance of Mrs. Valentine, wife of the chief construc- tion engineer for the big- irrigation project of which John and Eleanor owned eighty acres. Mrs. Valen- tine's love of finery was attested by one glance at her purple• broad - clothed person. She was very short and, very fat—one ,of those women who change when they reach thirty, become good, simple,. and fat, and then do not change any more at all. "Ohl" she gasped at Eleanor. "Oh!" Eleanor returned in startled wagons—all of which bespoke for echo, 'weeks beforehand, in the city,' of pre- Train she recovered enough to add explain!ngly: • terations for the holiday season. "My wedding dress." Out here—well, even the great "Lovely, of empire -building had not yet "Loy, perfectly lovely, my dearl had time to overcome . her love for gushed Mrs. Valentine, advancing' to the old order, Chores went on, toueh appreciatively with a pudgy •chickeus were tended, cows milked, forefinger the delicate tracery of lilies horses led to water, fences patched. Where were any hints of thrills to conte? Any sweet mystery of an- ticipated joys? Back home there would have been a big (linnet of Christmas eve, with guests and gifts and good things to eat, and John would have worn his dress suit and she would have worn herwedding dress, which was her only party gown and bespoke• the angst extravagant gayety. Why not havo the dinnerparty asway? ht would be minus the guests perhaps, but site could cook a good dinner and Joim had his dress snit atd sheher wedding gown, Once morn she lifted the lid of the chest, and this time the took from it a soft, shapeless package that rustled strangely amid the severity of mission furniture. She loosened few plus, and the tissue paper bugled Sleeve suggestively, Eleanor wrappings felt, away, releasing drew back as if stun b the toue'h, oloif'd of white"Oh, satin that billowed • g.. y I couldn't, 1♦iira. Valentine. 4o111 her heed to the floor like a ,Ws my wedding dross, made it of thd' valley embroidered in pearls upon the bodice, the work of Elean- or's ownsfinge's. "I wonder— No, I shouldn't dare ask it," she declared. with a ponder- ous sigh. "Clothes are such a prob- lem out here. You wouldn't, I sup- pose—" Once more she stopped. Eleanor stared inquiringly., What favor could the chief's wife possibly wish of her? Mrs. Valentine was like a roly-poly kitten whom you hat- ed to deny things. "What is it?" Eleanor atriad en- couragmgly. , "I !.early oughtn't to ask it. The Oddfellow's Ball is to be on January fourth. We have received an invi- tation, and Jim has to be in Calgary that very week; It soots too good a thence to lose, but I haveli't an thih • to Wear not anything! You wouldn't sell--" slie fill g.sed the farm implements, never hitched at all, in fact. John could not ride him because he didn't halve a saddle. Once he, had tried him bareback, but, being an inexperienced mount, he had not cared to repeat the trial. Beppo, therefore, was enjoyed only through the medium of caresses and groom- ing and display to visitors, as great an abject of pride, no doubt, as Joseph's coat or the Queen of .Sheba's jewels. In the- long meantiines he pastured eontently in the corral or champed impatiently'in his stall, Eleanor did notknow it, but thoughts of Christmashad also dome to John. Driving home from town one evening he had wondered about it. She needed a sweater coat and a pair of heavy mountain boots, he thought, and then a feeling of shame, swept over him. Eleanor was the same Eleanor, whether city dweller: or rancher's wife. And he lov- ed her, not because she worked hard and was helpful, but because she had nice hair, red -brown with gold glints in it, and a forehead that wasn't intellectual, perhaps, but was broad and 'smooth; because no fault could be found with her brown eyes incl her nose had a few glints of freckles on it; because she had an adorable mouth that, for all it had a tired droop in the last few months, still seemed made only for smiles and kisses, Hotly he rebuked' the thoughts that had linked her Christmas with a sweater -coat and mountain boots, He remembered a day when they had stood in front of a jeweler's window, Every shade and glitter known to iridescence was caught and lay gold., imprisoned in the ptuplo bed of that window; a fortune in green fire, an- other in red flame, another in Costly white light, beside the beautiful glean of turquoise, topaz, sapphire, and jade. "What will yeti- have?" he had laughingly inquiredof her, "Oh, that!" she 'had glowed back over her black theft at hint. "It would belt yo swpct With my wedding gown," "Theta had been a tiny string of pearls 111 one corder, and he had IMP - petted to lend the tag attached, It had made him turn away then. He ronnnnbercd it wistfully now. Ile reached home, unllitehod with numb fingers and heavy heart, fed and bedded his horses, and turned to leave tate stable when a soft sound, half -snort and half-wilillaty—a horse's plea for recognition—arrested him. Ile turned back, entered Beppo's stall, and teolk the satiny nose in his hand, On Christmas eve the table in the Tittle remit -house kitchen was set with the best silver and linen .for a formal dinner—for two, '• Aunt Julia's silver candlesticks shed a soft pink -shaded light, A silver fern dish reflected in a fiat mirror stood in lieu offlowers for the centrepiece, and wedding -present china and glass- ware completed the appointments. Eleanor in a summer dross of fig,. tired lawn amlotlneed the meal, and from the llving.•i•oom strode John in fell evening dress, 'a majestic, per- fect John as he had looked back hoIime. o stoppecl in 'the doorway. "Why didn't you wear-" "Sri!" cautioned Eleanor: "Don't spoil things by asking any questions to -night. Shall we` have our gifts first?" She 10d him to the centre of the liv- .ipg.room and touched' -his, eyes light- ly.;}vitlt.her finger`s'tips tp cio'sa.tllenr. IIe heard a pulling . anti straining that. ended with a final bump and a huge bundle lodged at his feet, . "Wait a minute," he begged, and, stepping to the table, he drew :from the drawer at tiny jewel case' which he presented to her. "Now!" -he announced, and both be- came busy with wrappings. As John rose from iris stooping posture their 'eyes .met in a peculiar look. It was not anger, nor ' "titer- prise, nor disapproval, nor horror. They simply stared. Then, with a laugh that held in it a sob and a nryraid ' of unreadable things, Eleanor went straight to her husband, warm lips` and arms and starry eyes. "Dearie," he whispered, "I'm go- ing to put my Christmas present away for a while. It's -it's too nice to use right away." "Oh, John, don't you like it?" she asked with a catch in her voice. "It isn't that, little wife," he con- fessed, giving her a mighty squeeze. "I may as well be honest. You see I—well, I can't use that handsome saddle because I sold Beppo to get this," and he pointed to the jewel case. "John! Did you?, Why, how funny! I can't wear my pearls either because I sold my wedding dress to get— this," and she tapped the saddle. At the same moment they both straightened to a listening attitude. "It sounded like a sleigh," she whispered. "Listen!" "Uncle Steve!" they both cried in unison a fete moments later to the muffled figure stamping himself free of snow on their little back porch, "Merry Christmas!" came from -under the mufflers, accompanied by 1a plume of frosty breath. "Ilow in the world— Do come in to the fire. When did you— Why didn't you tell us—" "Hold on! Hold on!" begged Uncle Steve, Turning to John he said sternly: "What kind of a stock raiser are you, young manto leave a thor- oughbred, Ontario -raised horse out in this weather?" "Beppo? What do you mean, Uncle Steve? Beppo—is-isn't here. He—" "I -was talking to him about that only a few moments ago when T found himleaningover your gate as I drove up. By Jove, sir, the old boy knew me." "I'll go right out and put 'him up while Eleanor makes you comfort- able," said John. "Here, not so fast!" _ Uncle Steve stopped to the back door and dragged from the porch a big bundle which he set before John. From his coat pocket ho produced a smaller package for Eleanor. "Open 'em right away and tell me if I'nr a good prophet:" he said with 'A twinkle in his eye. The rustle of wrapping paper drowned all remarks. Eleanor pushed an. ivory button in a little plush case and held up—a string of pearls! At. John's feet lay a shining new saddle. "For Beppo," chuckled Uncle Steve; "that is," he added severely, "if you pronliee to treat him better. So you didn't know he was lost, eh? Well, Where in tarnatiotr did you think ne was?" "Yes, I-I—knew he was gone," John made answer. "You see, Uncle Steve, I sold—I mean, I loaned him to a ditch rider at the irrigation camp. He must have broken away." Eleanor could hold in no longer. "But it's all so wonder`fui! What brought you away out here, Uncle Steve?" • Uncle Steve emitted a thunderous guffaw. "That's a good one. I've owned the 100 acres alongside of you here for tho last four yesro. In fact, I sent the agent to John in the first place for the very purpose of getting you out here. I'm sort of particular about my neighbors, you see. Where you' going?" lie broke ori to inquire as Eleanor suddenly turned away. At the'kitchen'door she turned. "I'm going to tell Mrs. Valentine that I shall be glad to loan her my wedding gown," she said happily. . -0 -•-----' Of the 8,000 or more islands com- prising the Philippines only about 400 are inhabited,. Maurice Maeterlinck, the gifted dramatist, poet and essayist, 001505 originally from Belgium, He Was born in Ghent in 1869, The Joy 0t Christmas derives a spec- ial eharet Eton knowledge of the' fact of 110 being joy that is widespread. It iq the reverse of selfish ley, It is part Of the Itappiness of time season that everybody b thinlrs lahatelf whether Ino eat, (lo so netlifttg to add to other pool* happiness. Oa, , as A Child's Song of Chrietmrae, My clountor/Mlle Is soft as t!llle,' My-I/lahikete ,white ea creative milk, 'Pile hay was soft to Iiim, 1 knovr, Our little Lord of long ago, Above the root the pigeons lir in shyer wheels across Ilio ,lily. 'i'he atable•doves they cooed to them, Mary and Chrlst•In Bethlehem. A?'ight shines the sun across the drifts, And Deems upon n1)' Chvjstmae gifts, They brought Ilial ince:nee, myrrh and gold, Our little Lord who lived of old, 0, sett and clear our mother singe' Of Christmas joys and Christmas thinigs, . God's holy angels sang to them, Nary and Christ in Bethlehem• Our hearts they hold all Christmas dear, And earth seems sweet and 'heaven soeihs near, 0, Heaven was in Iiis alga, I knew, That little Child of long ago. Marjorie b, C. Pioktilall. Christmas Carol. The earth Has' grown old'with its bur- den of care But at Christmas it always is young, The heart of the jewel burns lustrous aild fair And its soul full of music bursts forth ori the air When the song:of.'the angels• is sung, It is coming, Old'Ilarth, it is coming to -night On the snow flakes which cover thy sod; The feet of the..Christ•child tells gentle and white, And: the voice of the Christ -child tells out with delight That mankind are the children of God. The feet of the humblest may walk in the. field _ • Where the feet of the holiest trod,• This, then, is the marvel to mortals re. 'tooled When the silvery trumpets of Christ- mas Have pealed That mankind are the children of 00d. —Phillips Brooks. Winter Music. Far off, the mellow Music a "`an Of silver -sounding bells; The lowing of the cattle; The tale the swung axe tells; The hoarse "'ionise of hunters; The baying of the hound;— Fail through the realm of snowflakes With soft and soothing sound. Near by, the chirp of sparrows; The saucy"chicle-a-dee:" , ' And faint footfalls of feathery flakes Make up the minstrelsy. A Seventeenth Century Carol. So now is come our joyful feast, Let every man be jolly; Each room with ivy leaves is drost, And every post with holly. Though some churls at our mirth re- pine, . Round your foreheads garlands twine, Drown sorrow in a cup of wino, • And let us all be merry. Now all our neighbors' chimneys • smoke, And Christmas blocks are burning; Their ovens they with baked meats choke, And all their spits are turning. Without the door let sorrow lye, And if for cold it hap to dye, We'll bury't in a C1u•istmas=pye And evermore be merry! Old and New. A toast to the old year; a toast to the new, May its pleasures be many—its sor- rows be few. ta hope for the future—a sigh for the past— A smile for the present—the hours speeding fast. A toast to the old friends—a toast to the now, A toast to the dear friends—and one to the true; A prayer to our Maker—in reverent fear, When we meet in 'a twelvemonth— that all may be here. eta— A Chrietmaa Song. When mother -love makes all things bright, When joy comes with the morning light, , When children gather round their tree, Thou, Christmas Babe, We sing to Thee! When shadows of the valley fall, When tin and death the soul appall, One light we through the darkness see; Christ on the Cross, We cry to Thee! •0 Christmas Invocation. Upon you I bestow this meagre 'token, Not as frill measure of that whicll is spoken; But as the bearer of thoughts never spoken— Thoughts„•wllich invoke God's bless- ings down from Heaven Upon -you in this time of love and give • ing. May Elis gift far the Yuletide bo no less Than blessings which make life well worth the living: ti Faith, health, love, peace; -all wrap- ped in happinoes! Ch risirnes, Day, 1918, He shall 001110 down like showers *, Upon the fruitful earth; And love, joy, hope, like flowers, Spring ) in US path to birth; g Before him on the mountains, Shall Peace, the herald go; And Rthteousnoss, In fonttalits, g From trill to valley flow, Dvor wherer everywhere, Christmas, Christntda-nsiwghlltoro Mum peaks stand sol= 011111 aid white, Christmas where cornfields :lie sunny and bright, Everywhere, gaeraWbere, Christntae to. .'$ay... night,' "• n,,,.o.,...:°M-e FOR NBXT CHRISTMAS, Ily IIllaa ifollizlond, I;atit.yeas' I began buying Christnlas presents as soon as the January sales 5'5000edod the; Clu'istmaa Nabs and. some of 1117 friends laughed at me The idea of getting really, Or even begin, ntng tp get ready, at that early date, was very funny to them and many were the jokes they made about nay thrift, But when the end of the year. rolled round and the presents emerg- ed costing about one-half what they woul(1 before the ltoliday in December, then it was btry turn to joke about the put -it -oft" tribe, So eaoh year, after Christmas I shall invest In some pres- ents and during the few spare 2110. mate I Have all the year round I shall work on thorn, lror °amniae, a beautiful pair of tow= els with supple hemstitching, cost about two-thirds what they sell r' ,fo now, and some pretty bath towels were lase tlau half price. The bath towels have the simple o'oeitoted edge 50 common now. A soiled piece of att linen macre a number of 055111011 005 - ore after the best parts were cut Into dresser scurfs. The ()coals were edged with a small embroidery design and were soon fiiiishecl. The bca:uty of. tate material cattle mit in the wash tub, and then they wore laid away. Ono such scarf cost 30 cents, but a similar One was shown in the store for a dollar and a half. Apron material cost less .than one-half because it was soiled, and odds and"endsof trimmings were on the.remnant counter at a fraction of their cost when clean. A remnant of silk at 25 cents made two dolls' dresses and there was enough left for a little bag. A child likes a silk dress for a doll better than anything else in the world, And, by -the -way, dolls sell very reasonably after Christmas. If the bodies are soiled from handling, a little glove cleaner will make them nearly as nice as new. I have a large box into which I throw the odds and ends I buy, but I never get anything unless I know of a definite• use to be made of it, It is hard to keep to this stern resolve, but it pays. Just because a thing looks cheap is no reason why I buy it. It must prove to me that I can use it for something both useful and pretty be- fore I invest, I have seeu too many women buy useless things and fritter- ing away money, thinking that perhaps the thing will cone handy sometime. I cannot afford to buy undor such vague conditions. "But as sure as I begin early some occasion comes along and I draw on my,a;hrlstmas box for a gift," I Hear some women saying. Yes, that is true, bat there is another side to the ques- tion. Last summer I was able to draw on my box for a gift that would have cost me three dollars.in the store but out of the box it cost 78 cents. There was no time to make anything then, so it was either open the box or go to the store. You may be sure I did not go to the store when an article that could be replaced could be furnished at that cost, So I um getting ready "For next Christmas" the whole year through. If 1117 purse Were overflowing with money I should like very much to go shopping recklessly without looking for bargains, but after a11, there is 0 joy in contriving and planning and making much out of little that I fancy deli women never experience. At least, it is well to believe that, for it helps mightily in the little economies of everyday life and makes giving all the sweeter and more blessed at Christmas time. A Christmas Burglar. Aha! A burglar in the room! I hoar his stealthy tread; He's slinking somewhere through tab gloom By yonder trundle bed. Across the creaking floor His fearful footsteps fall. What form was that stole throtlgh the door And out along the hall? - What form was that, clad all in white And scarcely three feet high? A burglar? Or some Christmas sprite With mischief in his eye? What! You! Abroad before the day Has lit his round, red lamp? What takes you from your slumbers, pray, You little, owlish scamp? You came away down hero because You really reit that you Must wait for Mr, Santa Claus And Bee if he was true? You braved the darkness unafraid, And all its terrors grim, And this long, dreadful journey made To prove your faith 1n him? Well, back in bed, for he IS true; Your precious faith hold fast, Old Santa Claus will live for you While dreams and chlldho0d last, And when, at length,' you take ayour place Among the world of men, In every little Christmas face He'll live for you again. Star Song, Tell us thou clear and heav'nly tongue, Where is the Babe that lately sprung? Lies he the lily banks among? Or say if this new birth of Ours Sleeps laid within some ark of flowers, Spangled with dewlight: thou canst clear All doubts and manifoet the where, Declare to us, bright star, if we shall seek ilIm in the morning's 1)111811109 cheek, Or search the beds of spices through To find him out? •• Robert Herrick, Gong Ago. L ottg ago, in Merry England. the popular belief was that the "little people" of tho forest come at Yule Glue to joint in the Christmas tostivi- Beg With n).otials, Naw, it is wolf known that 1:110 "little people", do not like t0 be seen and will not venture where there is any possibility of 'Ou- lu human eyes 01,51,' Tending ;Bern, SO, 111 order t0 1)101180 their sprightly little guests, rich and Boor provide the they friends with 10414 plofes of t, lekk 'eon caths; and; ;:est mi where igt wr 4r �, e they can loot- oit the revelries to tgdeen The Cloak for the Manger. �7lie bang upon ]lei motlrer'd knee rn Bethlehem town, that wondrous • !poral, To tell how two had reached the len And how their little 'Son was born. "But they bay° lald haat in a stall; The inn was 91,111111 it could hold, Ab, let me take mine outgrown cloak And wrap hila round; Ifo must be 001111" She leaned upon her mother's Rao, Tito little plaid; her eyes were fair And howe'er dark the day 111191it 1)0 Some sunshine lithe- curling hair. The mother could not say her nay, Though strangers they of Nazareth were. "I will go wilth thee, dear," she said, ? "And ask their pardon should we 5.11." She took the little soarlet cloak And climbed the hill—leer child bo Bind Gay, breathless—to the Baby's 111(10, So keen through chinks the winter whined That Mary smiled her thanks, and wrapped The dimpled Joy; the plaid's heart grow ' To mother -measure as she knelt To touch his roseloaf softness too. But her own mother read more elpse The Babe's wide gaze, and reverently Fixed Mith lreh' wondering eyes„ 1 :A prince?"ary wthey asked. "A Godl" said she. The small maid sought her mother's ' arms That later day when all -was rife With talk of mighty honors done The Babe of Joseph and his wile. - How marched a Star mid -heaven and reigned Above the manger whore TIe slept; How stately camels (fume that way, Thou• housings tinkling as they stepp'd, 'With gifts for Him. "And my poor cloak So faded was, so mean a thing!" The mother stuiled, "Ah, sweet," she said, "Thou gayest ere thou knew'st Hint Bing!" A Christmas Dolly. There aro four of us girls in the family; Kitty and Maud and Mother and met And Mother the merriest one of alt. When we hung our stockings along the ' wall. Three of ns crept down before 'twins light, To see what Santa had left that night; And each of us found a lovely doll; Mantes was French, with a parasol, And a Paris gown and a picture hat. Kitty's was -Dutch, and round and fat; Mine was a Jeap with beady eyes, Its kimono gaudy with butterflies. But mother's --oh, Bother's was best 'of all! It was soft and squirmy and red and small: Not French, nor Pussian, nor' from Japan, But just a little Canadian! One of its fists was doubled up, The other looked lila) a rose -leaf cup, Each tiny too was a round piuk pearl. And tho fuss on its head we think will curl, If you know a chilli whom a doll would please, 1'd be glad to give her my Japanese. For I don't seem to care for (lop Lee Sing,` Sluc) Santa brought us this darling t111ng1 Santa's Gifts. Santa Claus brought •mo a drum and sled: A trumpet to blow and a top painted red; A big box of candy, a knife and a gun, A box of toy soldiers, and all these are fun; But finest of all Santa brought me a pair Of gloves of the kind Father likes best to wear, Santa Claus brought me a plate and a cup, A doll that says Mamma and even stands up, A book slid a pencil, a Christmas card bright, A set of play dishes all shiny and white; But best of them all, Santa brought me, he did, Some gloves just like Mamma's and really true kid., Santa Claus brought us a whole lot of toys, Tho very kind dearest to wee girls and boys, And ,we were excited, as children should be As we opened each package that came from the tree, But dearest of all Santa's gifts that we know, Were the kind he brought Daddy, and Mother Dear, too. Christmas Maple Bails. Three quarts popped corn, one cup-, ful maple sugar, one-half cupful sugar,' oto tablespoonful butter substitute and ono -half teaspoonful salt. Pop corn and pick over, discarding kernels that do not pop, and put in a large kettle. Melt butter' substitute in sauce -pan and acid syrup and sugar. Bring to the boiling point and let boll 'until mixture will become brittle when tried in d w, Pott' ntixtncolreiliergradually, while stlr- rata constantly, over corn which has, been sprinkled with salt. Shape into, balls, using es 111110 pressure es pos-) sibie. ._ • Tho New Year. New year, coaling on space, What. have you to give n1e? .•+:1 13t'ing you scathe or bring you grace, Fame me with an honest face; You shall not deceive no. Christine Rossetti; Thouhht10r New Veer. I would he quiet, Lord, 1;. Nor toase, nor fret; arras r Not one small 5500(1 of aline v :Wilt Thou forget,