The Wingham Advance, 1909-12-23, Page 7rigF
-41
Christmas Storm
By TEMPLE BAILEY
They started at midnight for the Fido
to the
y A few snowflakes were
falling, and the crowd of house guests
who stood in the elicitor of the porte-
cochere urged them to stay.
"You'll get caught in the storm,"
came from 'half a dozen.
Stay and hang up your stockings
with us," called. Bobby Barnes,
"There's plenty of room," their hostees
assured them.
Mrs. Elmendorf, wrapped in furs until
she looked like a plump brown bear, com-
plained from the back seat, "Eugene
won't let me stay."
Mildred Dwight, reckless of the fate
of her chiffon ruffles, fluttered down to
the side of the automobile,
"Please let her stay," she pleaded.
From the front seat Elmendorf smiled
at her gravely.
"No," he said, "I'm going to take
her home."
"You see," said the martyr on the
back seat.
"He's an ogre," said Mildred, and made
a little face at him,
Suddenly Elmendorf leaned toward
the laughing group, The yellow light
from the open door shone on his dark,
earnest face. Beyond the door was
music and the fragrance of flowers.
"You ought all of you to be at home,"
he said ,and his voice, crisp, decisive,
was the voice that had made criminals
tremble. "We ought all of us to have
Christmas trees and hearthstones and
family dinners. And instead of that
we've let the fires on our altars burn
down, while we've gossiped and danced
and played like children, instead of be-
ing men and women."
His quick smile as he nodded to
them redeemed his words from harsh-
ness, but the note of seriousness in
what he said was reflected on 'their at-
tentive faces.
'Hear, hear," from Bobby Burns.
"No, I'm not going to make a speech,"
and the great car chug-ohuggedtout
slowly from under the' archway, "my
voice is to valuable. And besides you
aro out of my jurisdiction. But my
wife isn't. And this year we spend
Christmas by our own fireside."
"You poor, abnsed thing!" Mildred
sympathized, and wa ed
v lyes hand to
them as they drove away into the dark-
ness.
The Elmendorfs were distinctly 'bored
as in the darkness the big car whizzed
through the long driveway. They were
out on the country road before either of
the occupants spoke.
"I don't think it is very nice of you
to criticise us rigli't before Mrs. Dar-
lington. It was a lovely evening, Eu-
gene."
"Yes, it was," he agreed, "but why
didn't she invite all the children and
have an old-fashioned -merrymaking-e.!
Instead of bridge and champagne?"
"Well, I don't see why you should
complain," Helena insiated, "we haven't
any children to neglec't."
"No, we haven't any children," and
after that there was a long pause.
"I can't understand it," Elmendorf
spoke as if there had been nc' break in
the conversation.
"What?"
"How they are willing to be so use-
less—the women"
"You men marry yrs for playthings,"
her voice was bitter, "and you expect
helpmates, and we're not—"
"Yes," he agreed, "you're not."
Then, as if he had stutd to much, he
half apologized. "There is so much to do
in the world."
But no answer came from the back
seat, and again they sped on in silence.
The snow came down faster and fast-
er, and the whirling flakes which drove
against the flaming headlight seemed 'to
shut them into a world of unreality.
"Wo can't go any further," Limon.
dorf said at last. "Who would have
believed there would be such drifts?"
"Well, I wanted you to stay at Mrs.
Darlington's," Helena lamented. "It
was a wild idea, anyhow, to come out
from town in an automobile, on auoh
a night as this."
Eugene jumped down into the snow,
and peered through the darkness.
"There's a house back there. I can
see just a point of light in a window."
In the howling blackness he found
the door and knocked. There was no
response. He shouted, and the wind
beat his words back upon him."
"I can't make anyone hear," he called
to his wife. Then the door opened and a
young man, ]laggard and half dressed,
spoke out into the -night.
".Is that you, doctor?"
"No," Elmendorf said, "we're stuck
in the snow and—"
But the man was not listening. "Oh,"
he said, and his voice broke. "Why
'Aon't the doctor oome?"
"Winds' the matter?" Elmendorf asked
gtrAnkly.
Tho baby," the man said. "He's dy-
ing. We've sent the hired man for the
doctor. "Then, with a sudden remem-
brance of hospitality, "come in. It's an
awful storm."
It was a shabby room into which
they came, lighted by a solitary can-
dle. A flickering fire bud on the
hee,rth, and a gray cat, safely housed
from the storm, slept curled up on the
warm bricks. From the next room
Dame 'the moan of the sick child.
As Helena unfastened her wrap a wo-
man oame to the door of the chamber.
She was very young, just a girl, and
her unbound hair fell over calico wrap-
per in straggling wisps. Her face was
grey with anxiety, and her eyes were
rOh," oomo here," she pleaded. "I
don't know tettat to do—I don't know
what to do!" But even in the midst
of her agony, ee%' stopped to stare at
the radiant woman in shining white,
who stood on her humble hearthstone.
In a moment, however, she returned
to her plaint, "Oh, I don't know what
to dol"
Helena swayed toward her husband,
"i can't!" she murmured. "I can't go
in there, Eugene." Bet he shook off,
alnroe't roughly.
'or .leaven's sake, Melena, go!" he
said.
The baby lay, a little curled -up,
gasping bundle on the bed.
"T3'e' dying!" the mother moaned.
Yelena knelt by the cradle, The
baths', thrashing out with his tiny
hands, caught at her finger, He was
fighting for breath.
"Oh, you poor little thing• ---poor little
thing!" XIeletta'e arms went about it
suddenly. She stood up holding the
child close.
"Oct Floe carne hot water -es lot of it,'a
she directed, "and mustard. Oh, hurry,
i'ybab3, baby,"film whisper
she worked. "I'm going to 'rake you
wall.h
� OUT little baby,poor 1 p r little
baby!"
Tho mother, kneeling on the floor,
rocked back and forth, moaning, "Why
don't the doctor come?"
Slowly
the little limb.; relaxed;
slow-
ly
lo -ly
the color came back to the pinched
face, and at last Helena lifted the limp
pink body and called for the bleat -
!cots,
"He's bettor, Eugene," she said sim-
ply. Tears ,were on lier :Meeks. The
dazzling gown was all soils:,, and crush-
ed and crumpled, and her hair hung in
wet strings about her face; but to her
husband she had never been as beau-
tiful,
"Oh, the young fools," sire said, a few
minutes later, as she sat in the front
room with the baby in her arms, while
her husband stirred the fire. "Not to
know that hot water was the only
thing!"
As she brooded Madonna -like over the
child, on her low -bent face was the look
that comes to all women with the care
of baby helplessness.
Her husband was kneeling before the
fire. He turned and looked deep into
her oyes. "Forgive me," he whispered.
"Why ?"
"That I have so wronged you—you
wonder woman!"
"Oh," her hand went to her heart. "1
didn't know I had it in mo, Eugene, But
when I saw the poor baby "
"Yes, I know."
In the next room the young mother
was sobbing hysterically. The boy hus-
band was trying to soothe her.
"Hold the baby a minute, Eugene,"
Helena said, and went in to them.
Presently the crying' ceased, and the
young farrier came out.
"Your wife is an angel of mercy," he
said, and brushed his hand across his
eyes as he passed on to the kitchen.
Eugene, listening, heard Helena's
voice speaking softly to the other wo-
man. There was a new and thrilling
note in her voice—the note of the moth-
er bird in the spring,
With the baby in his arms, he sat
long a
by the flickering fire, seeing visions
of the home that was to be; of Helena,
thewife of
� his dreams atlast;of-
os him
self, more tender, more forbearing, grow-
ing lighter -hearted to meet the gaiety
of her youthful moods.
At last in the kitchen the chime of
the old clock struck six. The first
grayness of the dawn stole in at • the
window. Across the snowy fields
sounded the peal of the Christmas
bells.
"Helena," the man called softly, and
his wife came to the door of the other
room.
She had changed her dress, and wore,
clean blue gingham belonging to the
mistress of the house. About• her
shoulders was pinned a little plaid
shawl. Her beautiful hair had been
brushed and was wound about her
head in a shining braid.
She took the baby and smiled,at her
husband, "Do you like me this way?"
"I love you this way," and he kissed
her.
She laid her glowing cheek against
the sleeping baby's face. "Think if we
had not tomo Eugene," she said.
He opened the door. Across the east
the light had come in streaks of purple
and silver.
"It is Christmas morning," he said,
coming back, "Merry Christmas, Hel-
ena!"
The young mother came in from the
other room. "I'll take the baby now,"
she said, yearningly, and held out her
arms.
Helena carried it to her. "Lie down
and try to sleep," she advised, and clos-
ed the door after them gently.
Then she came back to her husband.
"Think if wo had not come, Eugene,"
she said again, and laid her hand on
his arm. Ile put his own over it, and
drew her to him; and thus they stood
together, in a wonderful silence, until
sleigh bells jangled outside and the now.
unneeded doctor tramped across the lit-
tle porch.
THE CHRIST -CHILD IN THE
HOME.
In a beautiful sermon we once
heard, we were impressed with the
declaration that, the word 'home' is
not found in the language of men
where the story of the Christ -child is
not known. And one might say that
this is because motherhood and fath-
erhood are of the highest type only
where the Saviour is an actual Pres-
enoo.
'Christmas,' said this same divine,
'is distinctly the time of Nye. And
how this weary, warring world``needs
this song of love ! Men are dying to-
day for the lack of a little love. Men
are growing discouraged and giving
up hope, and are going to the bad
for the lack of a little love. With
all its commercialism and greed and
selfishness the only hope for the world
is tc, lerrn tho lesson of love from the
lethlehem manger,' and listen to the
angels who sang God's "good will to-
ward mels" on that night of nights.
'Motherhood is a sacred thing only
whore the glad tidings of the Christ -
child are told. Christmas is the time
of the holly and the mistletoe, the
ule-loi e and the stockings hung all
in a row at the fire -place.
'There is no place for "Old Scrooge"
in a world where Christmas bells
chime and love and laughter fill the
very atmosphere. It is the time when
the father and mother aro children
again. It is the time when is stilled
the "restless pulso of care." '—The
Home Herald.'
To . Santa Claus From Johnny
Flynn.
(BY IDMMA II. HUDSON,)
Dear 'Santa Clans; If you're the one
That took the proeents 'round last year,
Plea o don't forgot our houett again,
But wo don't live where wo dad then.
We've moved Own by the river now,
The lrouso ain't got no number on,
But you just ask for Johnny Fyne,
I konw you'd make it cavo right in
You'll have to got in at the door,
There ain't no "clih»bly" to climb ie.
it's just a stove pipe poked up through,
Too little for a man like you.
You couldn't get the leg down in,
Mettles the root went hold you up,
We nothin' but old hoards and tin,
I konee you'd make it ease right in.
You•1l find our stockin'e On the °hair,
Ma'RI stewed 'trio up the best wire °Dula,
And when they went hold any more
Just pile the things down on the floor',
111000 'S only rite and ma, you know,
A little slater 4 years old -
Oh, serf, the dog, but he won't bite,
We alweye keep him in at night.
Me make, tete lithe' for us ell,
POI' pa'e gone off we don't know +itb
I tri to beLp her all 1 tan ---
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The Christmas Tree
AT PINE CENTRE
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A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OUR READERS.
I only wdeh'd I was a man.
I pick up coal down by the tracks,
Down where it tumbles oaf the cars,
'Most every day I get coal there,
The men that runs tho ears don't care.
Ma he don't think you'll come, I know,
Cause when we ask her it you'll colpo
She turns around and wipes her eyes,
She says she don't but then she cries,
Then tells us that she's talcin' cold,
But when I'ni Lakin' cold, I sneeze,
She's just so 'fraid that you'll forget,
Por you ain't been to our house yet—
Only but once, long time ago,
And that's the time you brought me
Ma says you brought me in your sleigh,
IP'or I'll bo seven Christmas day.
I don't suspect you'll ,have much lett
Waxen you get 'round to where we 11va,
So I'll not tell you whet to bring,
Icor we'll be glad for anything.
I
hope' you'll have somo candy left,
And cakes with sugar on the top,
And peanuts, my, but I like them,
I ain't had none I don't know when.
We just love candy, all of us,
Sometimes wo got a penny's worth,
And when wo want to give ma some
She's just so .good she went lake none.
And she don't know I wrote to you,
Thera ain't no one that knows but me,
And maybe it won't do no good.
But I just kind c' thought it would,
So I'll be watehin' out for you„
igen i bear the sleigh bells ring
I'll know it you—we'll all know then,
That we ain't been forgot again.
Then when we hear the old door streak,
You just don't know how glad we'll be,
We'll know Ws you a-ocmin' Ln,
Good -by, old Santa—Johnny t' ytin.
• A
Her Christmas Gift.
Dear Boy—Your Christmas roses-.
You guessed ,any wishes wall!
Aro so divine that prose is
Inadequate to tell
How very much I love them
In all their fragrant prime,
And so I lean above them
And write t o you la rime.
Some secrets I can better
To these sweet leaves impart
Than give them in a letter,
Slue they ooeoorn my heart;
Bt now that I have told them
Those dear dreams of delight
I know these flowers will hold them
Until—until to -nicht
I read the tender not that
Among the roses 1,1d;
I wonder when you wrote that
If you knew what you did?
You're su.oh a dear romancer,
I doubt you more or less;
But some and get my answer—
One rose for you—that's Yes 1
—Julian Durand, in Sunday Magazine
iM1 u'~ a4n iii i n•i .n:oIni 5.I, ieil in:1
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Every hotel and restaurant has its
lighted Christmus tree on Christmas
Eve, and every Pension gathers such
of its inmates as are not invited else-
where about its tree, and some sim-
ple remembrance is given by the
house -owner to each one. I-Iospitals
and public institutions all have their
tree, as in other countries. But this
celebrating by a tree in restaurant
and hotel is characteristic of Ger-
many.
Christmas Day, and the day follow-
ing, all shops are closed and the time
is given over to social gatherings, as
the sacredness of the Christmas Eve
is now past. Luncheons, dinners,
dances, two theatrical performances
a day in almost every theatre at po-
pular prices,—these aro strenuous
days, indeed, for a social favorite. I
have found that a large circle of ac-
quaintances in a German city leads
unavoidably to a bad spell of dyspep-
sia, when Christmas week is past.
There is something very whole-souled
and hearty about German hospitality,
and at no time of the year does it
show itself so well as at Christmas
time. Tho idea of Christmas festiv-
ities is to gather in the lonely; to
entertain, not for personal reasons,
but to give a good time to those who
need it most and can enjoy it most.
To be known to be alone in a Pen-
sion at Christmas time is the signal
for at least two invitations a day for
three days running. There is no work
of any kind done for three days, ex-
cept by those who minister to the
pleasure of others. The "Third Hol-
iday," December 27th, is by com-
If the house -mother does not care to
do her own work that day, family and
friends gather in some favorite res-
taurant to continue the Christmas
cheer. Butcher, baker and grocer
shops are open this third day, but
other establishments are often closed
until the 28th.
A quaint Christmas custom in Ger-
man cities is the "Jahrmarkt," the
array of open booths with cheap toys,
"Pyramids," ginger -bread, apples,
nuts, all things that belong to Christ-
mas. It is a sort of county fair, and
is still an important event in smaller
towns and country villages. In the
larger cities the Jahrmarkt is disap-
pearing. A vestige of it, kept up on
the Belle -Alliance Square in Berlin,
is regarded merely as a curiosity.
But it is the coming of the Christ-
mas trees that marks the moment of
birth of the Christmas spirit in Ger-
man cities. In every open square
and wider street in the residence quar-
ters of the town they stand, row after
row, splendid firs of all sizes. It is
truly Birnam wood coming to Duns -
inane. The most notable instance is
the Potsdamer-Platz in Berlin, a spot
that rivals a New York "busy corner"
for traffic. One day it is all roar and
rumble, hustle and bustle. Then
suddenly, over night, the hotel and
cafe gardens bordering it, the ap-
proaches to its great railway station,
and its stretches of open sidewalk
are hiddcta behind a veritable forest
of stately towering firs, looking down
in quiet majesty on the hurrying city
at their feet. They bring the breath
of lonely niountain tops, the sweet
silence of forest depths with them
into one of the world's busiest of
metropolitan centres. And best of all,.
they bring the Christmas spirit that
loosens the bonds of care, and preach.
es peace on earth, good 1.611 to men.—
The Travel Magazine.
mon consent the servants' holiday,
when they are given a whole day off.
Just because a man gets up and walks
out of e1surch don't jump to the coneul-
sion that he is a somnambulist.
THERE IS A REASON.
The Turk—These Ore the nicest people X ever saw, They are giving me all the grub 1 want.
(W. 0. Throop, in Montreal Witness.)
Pine Centre, as the name might im-
ply, was surrounded on all sides by great
tracts of pine, and from it distribution
teas made to the lumber camps of the
district.
Tho village consisted of the custom-
ary country store and school house, an
immense sawmill surrounded by the lum-
bermen's houses, the most of which wero
rudely constructed from rough lumber,
a little white church on the hill top,
with its rival, the saloon, in the valley
below.
For several yearn the Rev. Richard
Rose had labored among these people,
tot only in the village but also In the
neighboring lumber camps. In two
weeks' time it would be •Christmas, and
as the minister shook the snow from his
coat, before entering his hone, his face
wore an unusually anxious expression,
and as Ian entered the cosy sitting -room
his wife at once noticed it.
"Why, Richard, what is the matter?"
she asked, pulling his chair up to the
fire.
"Oh, it is more trouble with our old
enemy," he answered, seating himself by
his wife's sidle.
"I thought we were getting along
pretty safely this winter, but I hear to-
day that Joe Flynn is preparing to have
a dance at his saloon on Christmas
night, and this means ruin to the mon
and starvation for their families,"
For some time Bertha Rose busily
stitched away without speaking. The
wrinkles in the fair young brow, how-
ever, at last•,relaxed and she had some
suggestion to make.
"Well, what is it?" he asked, anxious-
ly"I know yea will laugh at me, but I
feel wo ought to have a greater attrac-
tion than Flynn's saloon for the boys
on Christmas night. How would a Christ-
mas tree do?"
If Richard Roso did not laugh at his
wife's suggestion he felt like it, as ho
asked her what attraction a Christmas
tree would be compared to the dance at
Flynn's.
"We must get the boys interested,''
she answered; "surely you could get
some of them to help with the enter-
tainment. You know the men well, who
for the greater part come from Martyn's
Damp, and I am sure Tim Dolin will do
all he can to help you."
Tim Dolin had at one time been meet
sarcastic in his criticism of the "preach-
er," as ho called him, but one summer
afternoon, in the greatest anxiety, he
had watched for hours while the minister
worked to restore to life the form of
Tim's all but drowned child, and whep
at last success was announced, Richard
Rose had won forever the warm Irish
heart, Tim, too, was a strong temper-
ance man, perhaps the only one in Mar-
tyn's camp, and Richard and his wife
knew they could depend upon him.
"Supposing we could manage the en-
tertainment, what could we put on the
tree for the expectant, youngsters? You
know there isn't much money in Pine
Centre for Christmas presents, and it
won't do to disappoint them."
"Wo can fill it up with oranges and
popcorn balls," said Bertha, laughing.
Then, considering the matter more seri-
ously, she said: "Why not get some out-
side help for that too? Let us write
home and tell the home folks of our
plan. Dear old• Mrs. Robertson is presi-
deut of the Women's Missionary Society.,
andwill be sure to help us."
So it was arranged that Pine Centre
should have a Christmas tree.
The moon, in all its fullness, was slow-
ly rising behind the pines, and soften-
ing in its mellow light the rugged out-
lines of tho long, low buildings of Mar-
tyn's camp, as Richard Rose drove up
to the door His horse had hardly stop-
ped when Tim Dolin came out.
"Good avenin', sor. I knew it was
you by the bells. Don't bother with tho
horse. I will put him tap." But the
minister was already unhitching ono side
and afterwards accompanied Tim to the
stables.
"You see, Tim, wo are going to have
e Christmas tree at the Contre on
Christmas night, and wo want you to
help us," ho said, broaching his sub-
ject.
"Well, sor, I'd be glad to, but I'm
afread I'd be little use to ye, for I'm a
mighty poor speaker, and when it comes
to singin' teens I'm not in it at all."
Richard laughed heartily, and then ex-
plained that it wasn't in the entertain-
ment he wanted his assistance, but in
getting the men down to the concert and
back again without visiting Flynn's Be -
loon.
"Wo will try, sor, but I'm afread
that it will be a hard matter to manage;
but I will got my own boy to take a
load, and I will take the rest, and we'll
do the beet we can."
'When Richard entered the camp, with
its roaring fire and large assembly of
men, lye was heartily greeted, for in
more ways than one he had brightened
their lives and in their rough way they
fully appreciated his efforts, and when
he invited them all to attend the Christ-
mas tree they willingly consented. Rich-
ard had visited the camp often enough
before to know who was talented, and
laying his hand on tho shoulder of a
fair-haired, blue-eyed youth, little more
than a boy, asked hien if ho would sing
for them ab the concert.
"What about Flynn's dance?" John
Stanley asked, looking into faces of
the listening men.
"You will find time enough after the
concert to help the devil along," an old
lumberman assured him, and amid the
laughter of the crowd Stanley consented
to sing.
Bertha Rose at once began to teach
the village children several choruses, and
by securing the country Aide, Richard
secured enough young people to take
part in a dialogue, but even then the
programme was short, and as a last re-
sort he decided to give several readings
himself, ones that he was sure the lum-
bermen would appreciate. But as toon
as ono difficulty was overcome another
was met with. The mon Were sure t>
come to town early in the afternoon. Soo
1''1ynnr knew thea, and was ehuckling to
himself that when the boys had once had
a drink they wouldn't bother much
about the tree. Itiehard hose knew this
too, and derided that at all events,thig
must have a supper before the rn,wort,
(generously the village people, slat of
their limited means, responded to the
call, and the few surrounding settlers
all contributed ono or more turkeys, old
Dave Smith, who had two bops, In Mar-
tyn's camp, offering half a dozen when
re •
lie heard of the he m' '
Inrster sre
acl o.
m
Christmas day at last arrived, bright
and clear. The roads were excellent; all
preparation had been made by both the
church people and the saloon -keeper to
receive the, men.
At Martyn's all were ready to start an
hour before Tim Dolin and his son
brought out their teams, and there was
much good-natured swearing over the
care the Dolens took of their horses. But
the noble creatures, slick and shining,
were finally hitched to the great sleighs,
and eagerly started for the town. Time
and again they broke into a brisk trot,
but Tien, who had the lead, held thent
back, much to the annoyance of the
men. But Tim knew what he was do-
ing. He and %he minister had previ-
ously arranged for hint to arrive as late
in the afternoon as possible.
To reach the hall it was necessary to
pass the saloon, and Joe Flynn was sure
that all hands would stop and drink, but
Richard also had considered this diffi-
culty and niet the men on the outskirts
of the village wetly a sleigh load of lady
helpers, who welcomed them and invited
them at once to the hall, where 'supper
was ready. The load of ladies led the
way, and cheer after cheer rent the air
as the sleigh passed the saloon, much to
the chagrin of Joe Flynn.
Heartily the lumbermen partook of
the bounties sot before them. As soon as
supper was over they good-naturedly as-
sisted in carrying out the rough tables,
replacing them with benches and chairs.
Richard Rose felt that now was the time
he must hold the men or they would be-
gin to drift away to the saloon.
The first thing on the programme was
a song by Jack Stanley. He was greet-
ed by loud applause, for he was a general
favorite in 'tire camp. Tenderly he sang
to these of home and mother, then Rich-
ard Rose described a scene In the Boer
war, and was called back again and
again, then followed the dialogue and
choruses by the children, and last of all
Richard gave them "The Race at Black
Reek," which took the men by storm,
the incidents of which fitted so closely
their own rough lives.
One would naturally think that now
that the concert was over the men would
begin to leave, but big Bill Moore, the
foreman at the camp, had consented to
be Santa Claus, and out of . respect for
their foreman not a man left the build-
ing. At last, when all was over, they
were surprised to find Tiny and they
Dolin, with their teams, waiting for
them.
"All aboard for Martyn's. Pile in, boys,
these horses won't stand."
A few of the men jumped in. The
others hesitated.
"Come on, boys; ride as far as Flynn's
anyway," Tim suggested, and everyone
jumped aboard.
Half a mile down the long, steep grade
before them lay the saloon, where ?ylnn
and his following were anxiously waiting
for the lumbermen, Tho two teams were
jogging along side by wide, when Frank
Dohn shouted, "I'll go ye a race, father!'
'All right, boy/' Tin answered, crack-
ing his whip over the backs of his horses.
Down the hill both the teams bound-
ed, ever Increasing their speed, till,
when they reached the saloon, it was im-
possible for anyone to jump oft. The
men, too, were all so interested in the
race that they thought of nothing else
and were shouting wildly and encour-
aging their respective drivers. On to
the river they flew and down 'the ice at
a terrific pace, never slackening speed
till they were about three mile's down
and about to turn into the rough forest
road leading to the camp. Frank Dolin
was the first to gain i't, amid the cheers
of his men.
But what about Flynn's dance? A few
of the lumbermen were angry and said
that this was a made up plan, but for
tate most part they felt satisfied with
their evening's fun, and for years niter
it was a standing joke at Martyn's
how Tim Dolin and the parson fooled
the saloonkeeper.
HOW TO KEEP CH SRI TMAS.
But there is a better thing than the
observance of Christmas Day, end
that is, keeping Christmas.
Are you willing to forget what wou
have done for other people, and to
remember what other people have
done for you; to ignore what the world
owes you, and to think what you owe
the world; to put your right in the
background. and your duties in the
middle distance ,and yottr'^ chances to
do a little more than your duty in
the foreground; to see that your fellow
men are just as real as you are, and
try to look behind their faces to the•
hearts, hungry for joy; to own that
probably the only good reason for
going to get out of life, but what are
going to get out of life, butw hat are
you going to give to life; to close
your book of complaints against the
management of the universe, and look
around you for a place where you can
sow a few seeds of happiness—are you
willing to do these things even for a
day? Then you can keep Christmas.
Are you willing to stoop down and
consider the needs of little children;
to remember the weakness and lone-
liness of people who are growing old;
to stop asking how much your friends
love you, and ask yourself whether
you love them enough; to bear in
mind the things that other people
have to bear on their hearts; to try
to understand what those who levo in
the same house with you really want,
without waiting for them to tell you;
to trim your lamp so that it will give
more light and less smoke, and to
carry it in front so that your sha-
dow will fall behind you; to make a
grave for your ugly thoughts, and a
garden for your kindly feelings, with
the gate open ---are you willing to do
these things even for it day? Then
you can keep Christmas.
Aro you willitllg to believe that love
is the strongest thing in the world—
stronger than hate, stronger than
evil, stronger than death—find that
the blessed life which began in Beth-
lehem nineteen hundred years ago is
the image and brightness of the Et-
ernal LeveP Then you eawi keep
Chm.e,
Anristd ifayou keep it for a day, why
not alwayaP
13ut you can never keep it alone:—
From 'the Spirit of Christmas," by
the RAv, Henry Van Dyke.
ROAST YOUNG TURKEY.
One ten -pound turkey, one pouted
chestnuts, one cupful bread erulnbs, one
cupful cracker crumbs, half cup hot wa-
ter, half cup butter, two eggs, well beat-
en; one rounding teaspoonful salt, one
leve , >
level:teaspoonful as )O 1 ,l
onful rc cr one to s vonful
I 1 I! > k
poultry seasoning. Draw land truss the
turkey. Take care to remove alt pin
feathers, singe and wipe inside and out
with a piece of cheesecloth wrung out of
hot water. Then make the stuffing;.
Pour
n
tIr hot water over the bread
crllinhs and lot stand. ten nunutes. Thera
add the cracker crumbs and seasonings,
When well mixed add the butter, melt-
ed, and the eggs. IIull and boil the chest -
suits and blanch them, then ease them
through the food chopper. After this acid
therm to the stuffing and mix well, Now
stuff the turkey and leave plenty of -
room for the stuffing to expand, other-
wise it will pack and be soggy. Now
stuff the turioey and Ieave plenty of
room for the stuffing to expand ,other-
wise it will pack and be soggy, Now
place the prepared fowl in n roasting
pan. Place in a hot oven and cook un-
til nicely browned. Then add a cup of
boiling water, pepper and salt, and re-
duce the ]teat. Baste frequently and
cook until tender. If the fowl is young
and tender two hours will be suficient,
Serve with cranberry jelly and giblet
951100,
For the sauce place the giblets in a
saucepan and add enough cold water
to cover. Cook slowly until tender. Then
hemove and mince fine. Use one cup of
the water from the giblets and one cup
of the drippings from the turkey. Place
these in a saucepan and add done hemp•
in;t tablespoonful of flower combined
with water to pour. Cook five minutes
and add the giblets, a pinelr of mustard
and salt and pepper to taste. Finish
cooking and serve.
CIIAN13EItRY JELLY,
One quart cranberries, one pint water
sugar. Wash and drain the berries.
Place the saucepan over the fire, cover
closely and cook until the berries are
tender. Then remove from the fire and
puss the berries through a fine sieve.
Measure the fruit and add an equal
quantity of sugar. Place on the fire
and cook ten minutes. Pour into mold
and serve when stiff.
CHESTNUT STUFT'ING.
One-half pound of lean veal, one-half
eup of melted butter; ''one cup of bread
crumbs. Blend, and if not moist enough
adcl a little broth. Add four dozen
chestnuts blanched and boiled, one table-
spoonful of salt and a little pepper.
Small potato cakes can surround the
turkey on the platter, springled over.
COLONIAL SALAD.
Potato^s, sugar, butter, sherry wine,
cinnamon, crumbs. Select largo round
shaped sweet potatoes and allow one-
half of a potato to each guest. Scrub
and wadi well. Place them in a kettle,
cover with .hot water and cook slowly
twenty minutes. Remove from the fire
and drain dry. Then cover each potato
with melted' drippings. Place in a bak-
ing prat and bake is a slow oven until
soft, Remove from the oven and cut
into halves lengthwise. Scoop out .all
the pulp and trash it very fine. To each
cup of pulp add one tablespoonful but-
ter, one teaspoonful sugar, one tea-
spoonful sherry, pinch of salt. Beat
this mixture until very light. Refill the
shells, rounding it up nicely. Sprinkle
lightly with crumbs, dot with butter
rt cinnamon brown in
and a pine] of c nn ruon and awn
the oven.
COLONIAL SALAD.
Tomatoes, lettuce, celery, cooked
chicken, salad dressing, salt. Select
and let stand on ice two hours. Chop
the tomatoes on the inner side with salt
from the flower bed Scoop out all
the pulp and remove the seeds. Sprinkle
one perfect, firm, ripe tomato for each
guest. Peel and remove a thin slice
the pulp and to each cup allow one cup
of cold chicken cut in cubes and one
cup of celery cut in small pieces. Mix
with salad dressing. Drain the tomatoes
and wipe dry. Then fill them with the
salad mixture and top off with salad
dressing mixed with a little whipped
terea
ucemleaf. . Serve very cold on a crisp let-
- CHESTNUT PUREE.
Shell and blanch a pint of chestnuts
and boil them for 30 mihutes with a
slice of onion. a half -cup of chopped
celery, a bay leaf and half a teaspoon-
ful of.panrika. Press all through a col-
ander and then add a pint of milk and
a pint of chicken stock. In a saucepan
rub together a tablespoonful of butter
and one of flour and add the liquid
slowly. Season with a teaspoonful of
salt, strain and serve with wafers or
croutons.
CELERY SOUP WITH OYSTERS.
Chop one pint of celery tips and let
them simmer in a pint of water for 20
minutes. Drain and press through a
sieve. Put this in a double boiler with
a pint of mills, and two tablespoonfuls
of butter rubbed with two of flour,
stirring until smooth. Add two dozen
small oysters and cook until their edges
curl. Serve at once with crackers.
—What to Eat.
CHRISTMAS.
Christmas dcth come but once a year.
To sane brings sadness. others cheer;
Sudt:eso to those p001 souls in need
Who children have and wives to feed.
Same revel thoughtlessly In song,
l'!tfcelingly they walk along
Regardless of their fellow's fate
For time or their eternal state.
It tell. of one on Christmas morn
of Davtd's line, in Bethlehem born (Matt. 1);
Foretold by prophet, sage and sire,
Who song IIIc praises on their lyre,
'Twos Ile whom wise men sought and found
Anil shepherds from the hills around;
A Saviour burn in David's town
Angels prcelalnred---frout heaven sent down.
No roost for blur in travellers' inn
Who come to seek and save from stu
Ily holy Ghost, born through a maid
Of David's royal lino, 'tis said. (Matt 1; Luke
2).
'Twos form one church himself he gays
And sired His blood for it to cavo (Ilphes.
5-2:)
From vengeance of dental flre, (Jude 1),
tvhleir God bath spoken 1n Ills ire. (Psalm
0-17.1
When Herod heard n king was born
Ifo feigned much love, with secret scorn;
t'onnived a plan, young babes to slay,
a
1
«1. rin this child slain bythe way.
R Y
Ills parents, warned by angels, fled
From Canaan into iigypt led,
'fill ?i,red died --gave rip the ghost
Ay judgment through the angelic host.
Ile then to Nazareth was led,
Wee by kind temente nursed and fed,
Till et the age of thirty years,
Went on God's errand, it appears.
Ile to the House of Iaraei went,
To rave Mit sheep was Iila intent. (Matt.
15.24.)
Ilia miracles and nets did crave
Per love Ile got a cross and (;rave.
Ile te-ti vietne o'er the Grave.
itv re'pnrreeilnit power to PINT
Ari gravid cald, at God':, right hand
Till this norle1 •bowie At Ills eotuutand.