“BY P. GRAY MEEK.
A NEW XMAS.
The pastor was in his study, his brow was fur-
rowed with thought,
And wisdom to guide him rightly for many a
day he’d sought,
And there was not a single volume on the
shelves above or beiow
That could throw any light on the problem
that puzzled and vexed him so. g
For the harvest season was over, and Christ-
mas was close at hand,
And the glow of tha rising splendor already
illumed the land; a
And'there on the desk before him, in orderly
neatness lay : :
‘The sermon he meant to deliver to his people
on Christmas day. "
So 'twas not this that disturbed him, nor was
he a moment vexed
By any doubt or delusion in regard to his
chosen text ; !
For he preached but a simple gospel, in lan-
guage as terse and plain :
As the smooth, round pebbles that David took
when the mighty giant was slain.
The pastor thought of his little flock, the chil-
dren great and small,
And great was the loving kindness with which
he regarded all ; ;
And yet a wave of trouble ran over his heart
because 3
They thought much less of Jesus Christ than
they did of Santa Claus.
For one and another whispered—their words
had an eager ring,—
“What shall I get on Christmas? What will
Santa Claus bring ?”
And as everywhere and ever the thirst for
ain increased. :
The charm of a kingly presence was missed
from the royal feast. 3
The pastor sat in _his study, when his good
wife opened the door, :
And together they held communion and talked
the trouble o’er ;
And she, being quick of fancy, in a moment or
two had planned
A better way for keeping the day that was now
so close at hand.
The pastor gave the notice from the pulpit,
next Sabbath morn, i :
And to brain and heart, like a swift-winged
dart, was the startling message borne.
For he spoke in words of fire the truth they
must all believe ¢
“The Master has said : ‘It is far more blessed
to give than to receive ;” |
And if at the Christmas season you'd be richly
and truly blest, 3
Bring hither your votive offering,—and let
“it. be of your best,— E
And give to the poor around you with gener-
.- ous heart and hand,
That peace BH gio! to men may fill the
length and breadth of the land.”
‘Twas early in bleak December the barrels
came rolling in.
The farmers sending their choicest, from well
stored barn and bin : ;
There were apples and pears in plenty, and
pumpkins, yellow as gold,
And nuts and potatoes, together enough for a
vessel’s hold,
And bags on bags of flour and coffee, and
chests of tea,
And strings of onions and peppers,—oh! twas
a goodly sight to see.
And the work of nimble fingers to such an
amount was there, :
It seemed as if the collection out rivaled the
County Fair. :
There were dolls of assorted sizes, and some
that had been much used, 3
For the little folks had naught else to give and
not a gift was refused; :
For the pastor would teach the lesson to chil-
dren of tender years, .
That the gift that secures a blessing must be
consecrated with tears.
Oh, crisp and clear Christmas dawned that
ear: the church was with holly drest,
And bells rang out & merry chime that
echoed from east to west;
And around the altar and down the aisles were
baskets and barrels stowed,
While up on the pulpit and into the pews the
gifts had overflowed.
Oh, happy were pastor and people as they
gathered from near and far,
Their hearts revived and illumined by the
light of Bethlehem’s star ;
And happy the poor and needy to whom were
the good things given
That carried a blessing with them and lifted
- their souls to Heaven,
For out of this rich abundance the hungry
were sweetly fed,
The naked were clothed, and the sick and sor-
‘rowful cheered and comforted ;
And so Sloat was the joy of giving, that pastor
and people felt
As if, with the wise men of the east, at the
Saviour’s feet they knelt.
Oh, never a brighter Christmas had dawned
on the dull town,
Never had richer blessings been scattered so
freely down ; dass .
And taught by tha Holy Spirit’ their selfish
greed to subdue,
All hearts rejoiced—and on Christmas day was
the Christ child born anew.
~Josephine Pollard, in Demorest’s Monthly.
How It Happened.
A Story of a Home That Santa Claus
Never Visited,
BY JULIA TRUITT BISHOP.
It was just on the outskirts of town.
The wind, which went whirling down
the streets, making men button their
overcoats more closely as they hurried
homé, caught a slender, childish figure
and drove it along at a great rate, flap-
ping the ragged old shawl as though it
would tear it into shreds. The face
hidden away under the big sun-bonnet
was a brave and patient little face, but
the clothing was thin, and the nose
and hands were red with cold.
It was a bitter evening to the little
girl trudging home in the dusk; bitter
without, if not within. She was so
light, and the wind was so strong, that
it really seemed that she was being
treated very much ‘as the brown leaves
were—driven hereand there just as the
wind pleased ; but fortunately it blew
her inthe direction she wanted to go,
and finally through a tumble-down
gate, up a disorderly walk and into the
front door of a little house that leaned
off one way while its chimney leaned
off another, as though they were mind-
ed to part company, :
A chorus went up from around the
open fireplace: “There's Maggie! Is
you cold, Maggie ?”
And then the woman sitting in the
chimney corner said :
“Well it’s about t'me you was gittin’
home. You stayed so long I thought
you must be a-waitin’ for the corn to
grow, "fore you brung the meal.”
Whereupon the woman arose and be-
gan mixing the meal for corn bread.
aggie silently drew near the fire, try:
ing to unfasten the shawl with her
numb fingers. - The two younger chil-
dren, a pale, sickly looking boy of 7
and a girl ot 3, came and stood one on
each side of her, and laid their ‘heads
against her affectionately.
“Tell us whavyou saw, Mag,” coax-
ed the boy; ‘bat Maggie replied eva-
sively:
“Oh, 19ts of things! More’n I could
tellin a week! Sit down now, Joe
. that’s a good boy, an’ let Susie lay her
head in your Tap. “Maybe she'll go to
sleep, Mother, has father come back."
“Not yet,” replied the mother, asshe
patted the corn pones into their proper
shape and laid them in the skillet over
the glowing coals. She sighed as she
. wouldn't b’lieve, a. word.
VOL. 36.
STATE RIGHTS AND FEDERAL UNION.
BELLEFONTE, PA., DECEMBER 25, 1891.
NO. 50.
"Glory to Godin the Highest, and On Earth Peace, Good Will Toward Man.”s=-
said it, and Maggie, looking at the
window, against which the dark press-
ed tlose outside, echoed the sigh. She
wag but 12 years old, yet a good deal of
hard experience can be crowded into
twelve years sometimes.
“Your pa went to town to look for
work again, Maggie.”
Maggie turned away in silence. Af
ter awhile the cooking was done, and
the four sat around the table and ate
the corn bread with a little cold meat
that had been left from dinner. It was
poor fare enough, but three of them
made a good meal. Something was in
Maggie's throat, and she could not eat.
Atter the supper was over and the
little ones were sound asleep, Maggie
sat down in front of the fire, while her
mother took her old place in the cor-
ner.
“Mother,” broke out Maggie, sud-
denly, turning her big eyes upon the
worn face in the corner, “I never
thought about it before, but folks is
gettin’ ready for Chris’'mas. The win-
ders is full o’ things. I seen ’em this
evenin’. I seen a man buy a doll big-
ger'n Susie, an’ heered him tell the
storekeeper to put it away an’ he'd
send for it Chris’mas eve.”
“Chris’mas won’t do us much good,’’
said the mother in the dreary tone thas
had become habitnal with her. “I'd
druther it wouldn’t come. 'Pears like
it allers reminds me more o’ what oth-
er folks is got, an’ I ain't,
Maggie's eyes went {rom the com-
plaining face to the glowing coals that
lay in a heap beneath the hickery fore-
stick.
“I wish I could get somethin’ nice
for Joe an’ Susie,” she said dejectedly.
“Pears like I'd like for ’em to know
they was sech a day as Chris'mas.
Them Barnes boys tol’ Joe som’n "bout
Santy Claus the other day, an’ it come
mighty near settin’ ’im crazy. He's
a-lookin’ for ’im, mother! ‘Think o’
that! Joe's a-lookin’ for Santy Claus!
He's a goin’ to hang up his stockin’ !
I tried to beg ’im out of it, but it wasn’t
no use. I tol’ 'im we was so pore an’
hado’t been yere long, and Santy Claus
dido’t know we was yere, but Joe
‘He goes
ever’where, with Susie I wisht I could
give em both some’n, jest to make
em think it was true!”
“Let ’em alone! You ain’t never
had nothin’ yourself, an’ you've done
well enough I" replied the woman ir-
ritably.
She had heard a step on the walk
and knew it. Maggie opened the door
silently. The man that came in walk-
ed unsteadily, and hastered to drop in-
to a chair by the fire,
“Well, I didn’t git no work agin,”
he said thickly. “Never saw such a
place in my lite for bein’ out 0’ work.
Been a-huntin’ for it all evenin’.”
And with this declaration he manag-
ed to get his head upon a table and
went comfortably to sleep.
And this was the secret of the pover-
ty and wrethedness that had been
Maggie's portion since she could re-
member.
Maggie lay for long hours that night
listening to the wail of the wind around
the little shanty, and thinking with
anguish of the two little stockings that
would be hung up by the mantel
Christmas Eve, and how they would
still hang there, limp aad empty,
Christmas morning, and two faithful
little hearts would be broken on ac-
count of it.
~The tears streamed down her cheeks
in the dark at the thought. Her heart
went out most of all to little Joe—poor
little Joe, to whom life had brought
nothing but poverty and sickness. But
at last, out of her great trouble, a plan
occurred to her, and she went to sleep
quiet, radiant with expectation.
A mile away, down in the “bottom”
was a pecan grove, where the public
were allowed free access, Afraid as
she was of boys and negroes and tramps
and even of bears, for her timid imagi-
nation filled the grove with savage
animals ; unaccustomed as she was ‘to
climbing, she yet went every day and
managed to clamber awkwardly into
trees and crawl out upon limbs and
beat down the nuts ripened by the re-
cent frost.
She had a hard time. A slip and a
fall one day lamed her a little, and
came near proving far more serious.
Besides, the nuts on all the lower limbs
had been pretty well shaker down, and
she dared not climb very high. But
she worked all the harder. There
were two little stockings that must be
filled for Christmas, and who else was
there to fill them? Maggie set her
teeth and beat away at the limbs as
though her life depended on it. At
the end ot a week she took her stock of
nats up (to one of tne grocery stores,
and tremblingly saw them poured into
the scalz aad weighed. Seven pounds
—thirty-five cents.
She clutched the money and went
flying home as though her feet had
wings. This was a famous beginning
indeed! There were several more
weeks to go on yet. Oh, the stockings
should be - filled! and perhaps she
might wet something to eat besides,
something nice for little Joe. maybe,
and candy for the baby, She wrapped
the precious coins 1n a bit of cloth and
hid them in an old cigar box, away up
on a high shelf.
All that day she went on tiptoe, and
her eyes shone like stars. A hundred
times she caught Joe and Susie up in
her arms, hugging them tight and
laughing for joy, though there were
tears in her eyes, It wasso delightful
to picture Joe's face, when he should
wake and see the little stocking stuffed
full. She had made up her mind that
whatever she brought, it must be some-
thing that. would fill the stockings very
full, indeed. At odd moments, when
she could hide herself from the chil-
dren, she busied herself mending the
worn old stockings so that they would
hold what was put into them.
And how she worked! The next
week was cold and stormy, but that
didn’t matter. She couldn’t afford to
lose any time. A wind-storm one night
blew down a great many nuts, and as
she was there first the next morning
she reaped quite a harvest, But then
an evil fortune overtook her, for Joe's
cough was worse, and she was forced
to spend part of her money for medi-
cine, and before the week was out she
found it necessary to replenish their
store of meat.
These reverses left her on Saturday
night with only fifty cents in her little
board as the result of two week's faith-
ful work.
But Maggie was not discouraged.
One more week remained. A wild
anxiety took possession of her to get
all the money possible and to bring
such a Christmas into that little cabin
as had never been dreamed of. If she
could only get a dollar—a whole dol-
lar!
She stole up to town once or twice
and peeped in at the alluring windows
where holiday goods were displayed
and tried to pick out the things that
she intended to buy. Five more days
yet before Christmas. Three days,two
days. The last nuts were taken in and
sold, the money was put into the cigar
box, and she was almost perfectly hap-
py. She had eighty-five cents.
Her father came in late, and was go-
ber aud surely. He complained bitter
ly of having come t2'a country that in-
tended to starve him and his family, |
and so complaining he went to his rest,
and there was silence in the little
cabin.
Maggie thought that she would nev-
er get tue work done the next merning
and it seemed to her that her mother |
made excuses to keep her sweeping
and scrubbing and bringing wood and
water until it was nearly noon. But
it was all done at last. In the fullness
of her joy she caught Joe and Susie
both up, and danced about the room
with them a few times, and then, hav-
ing made some excuse to get them Qutb
of the house, she climed upon a chair
and took down the box that contained
her treasure-
She noticed as soon as she touched
it that it felt strangely light, but it did
not occur to her, even then, that any-
thing was wrong. But when she step-
ped down to the floor and opened the
box and it utterly empty, a look of
horror and alarm flashed into her face.
“Mother!” she cried piteously,
“mother! my money’s gone! Did you
move it mother?”
“’Tain’t no use a-cryin’ for it, Mag-
gie,”” said her mother, in that old, |
dreary tone. “Your pa took it. He
seen ye puttin’ some up thar last week,
an’ when things got so bad with ’im
this mornin’, he jest took it. I tried
to git im not to, but ’twan’t no use
a-talkin’ to 'im.”
Maggie had stood listening as though
she only half comprehended what had
befallen’ her. Her face was deathly
‘pale and she was trembling.
“Mother,” she said, hoarsely, after a
little, “father didn’t take my money,
did he ?-the money I've worked so hard
for ?—an’ now it’s too lateto make any
more, an’ nothin’ to put in poor Joe's
stockin’, after all 7’
“He took it, Maggie; an’ I reckon
he’s drunk enough on it by this time,”
replied her mother, bitterly.
Maggie put the box away and sat
down. The bardest heart that ever
beat might have melted at the sight of
the poor, forlorn little face. She didn’c
cry—she was too utterly crushed.
After awhile the mother called to
Joe, who was fumbling in a box:
“What are you after, Joe {’’
The child came proudly forward
with a hammer and two nails. ]
“Here, Mag,” he said, “come an’
drive these up for me. They're to
hang our stockin’s on. The one at
this end o’ the mantel-piece is mine an’
the otherone’s Susie's! Drive ‘em in
stout, Mag, for the stockin’s might be
heavy.”
“Joe,” began Maggie tremblirgly,
‘let's not hang up any stockin’s. I
don’t b'lieve they’s anything init. If
they is any Santy Claus, he wouldn’t
come and see strangers like us—"
“Oh! yes he would,” cried Joe, his
dark eyes flashing. “If he’s as good
as they say, an’ I know he is, we're
the very folks he'll be sure to come an’
see. An’ if he comes, Maggie, an’
wasn't to find any stockin’s, then he’d
be in a fix,”
Maggie drove the nails ‘in silence,
Within the last two or three hours her
face had grown pale and drawn, as it
might have looked after a severe ill-
ness. od .
Later:in the eyening Joe demanded
the stockings, and climbing upon a
chair, hung them on the nails himself.
Having done this, and stood back to
admire the effect, he wanted to be put
to bed.
“For if we go to bed early,” he said,
“maybe Santy Claus 'll come along
here first, before he gives all his things
away.”
Maggie could not stand it. She
seized the old shaw}; flung it over her
head and shoulders and fled out of the
house, towards town.
Nobody noticed her—nobody. Peo-
ple with baskets and bundles hurried
by her, or jostled against her, but none
of them paid any attention.
She went slowly along and peeped
in at the window where she had select
ed the little toys that were to have fill-
ed those empty stockings at home.
Some of them were still there. A man
was buying one of them as she paused,
and was saying in a big, hearty voice :
“My little chap’d think the world
was comin’ to an end if he didn’t get
his stockin’ full every Christmas.”
Maggie wandered on, the loneliest,
the land. Presently she heard the
sound of children’s voices. It came
from the basement of a fine residence.
The basement was on a level with the
sidewalk, and Maggie, pausing before
the glass door, looked wistfully in. A
Christmas tree, glittering with tiny
wax candles and bright with tinsel or-
nainei t3, stood on a table in the cen-
tre of the room. Four or five prettily
dressed children were marching about
it singing a Christmas song, and the
table and chairs were strewn with the
handsome and costly presents that
they had received from the gift-laden
tree.
It was just a moment—such things
leave so little room for thought! One
ot the dancing children jarred the table
a little and a tiny candle lost its hold
on the branch and fell. It lodged
among the filmy folds ot a little girl's
white apron and before she could move
the blaze ran up and enfolded her ina
dreadful embrace,
She stook still, screaming, and the
other children ran here and there with
wild shrieks. Bat,suddenly,some one
| came bursting in from the street, threw
an old shawl about the struggling child
and knelt there, holding her fast.
It was into her mother’s arms that
brave Maggie gave her!
“I doa’t think she’s hurt,” she said
simply, and was about to go out on the
sidewalk again, wholly unconscious of
‘anything heroic in her action, when
the child’s father captured her and the
mother threw her arms about her neck
and kissed her pale face, her own eyes
wet with grateful tears.
“Yes! yes! God bless you, my
dear!” eried dignified Judge Barr
shaking hands with her for the
twentieth time, “And you were stand-
ing on the sidewalk looking in ? Thank
God for that! Poor little, lonely girl.
You'll never stand on the sidewalk
again and watch my children play.
You'll be right here in the house with
them! Just to think how near itcame!
I wish I could do something for you
right now—to-night | I can’t wait till
to-morrow !"’
Then suddenly Maggie turned and
stood before him, her hands clasped
and her face full of passionate appeal.
“Oh!” she gasped, ‘could you fill
two little stockin’s 7"
“Two? Twenty—fifty of ’em I—why,
where did she go, wife?’
But Maggie was already halt way
home. She was not conscious of run-
ning—she flew. Such a look was in
ber face as she ran in and jerked down
the two little stockings that her moth-
er did not question her. Back again
and into the basement where they still
awaited her! She held up the poor,
worn, mended stockings, one in each
hand.
“Here they are,” she panted. “Joe
hung em up, his an’ Susie’s an’ I nev-
er had nothin’ to put in ’em I”
The Judge was profoundly touched,
“Do you hear that, wife? Do you
hear that?’ he said. “I'm going
home with this little girl to-night. You
want to goalong? I thoughtso. Fill
these stockings up, dear, and send Sam
in. I have some things that I want
him to carry.” :
“Papa,” whispered ove of the chil-
to little Joe.
more.”
“Well done, little man!” cried his
father ; and the tree was despoiled. of
its lights and carried carefully out by
Sam. ;
Maggie went with the others like one
in a dream. Ina dream she was the
Christmas tree placed on the table at
home, with all its candles and orna-
ments in position, ready to be lighted
in the morning. In a dream she saw
the stockings hung, each‘ on its own
nail, both of them nearly bursting with
their load, and with the dearest little
toys ipinned all over them and even
hanging ‘to the toes.
saw bundles and baskets laid at her
mother's feet.
When they had all gone away, too,
it must have been in a dream that she
heard her, father coming home, steady
and sober, for he came and put his
We don’t meed'il any
arms around her, and said :
“Maggie, my girl, I'm sorry I have
the most desolate little creature in all |
dren, “let Sam take our Christmas tree |
In a dream she
taken your money, I ’lowed to git ona
drunk with it, but I couldn’t do it,
somehow, and walkin, roun’, tryin’ to
fight it off, I lit on a job, deliverin’
Christmas goods ; an’ I’ve been at work
all day. What's more, I believe the
job's a steady one. Here's yer money
an’ a dollar besides!’
But oh, the next morning! There
was no dream about that! When Jae,
opened his eyes, and saw that beautiful
Christmas tree, with all its branches
laden with stars, and then turned and
saw those bursting stockings—that
was a sight worth seeing! For didn’t
he scream and clap his hands until he
waked Susie, who added her shouts to
his? And didn’t he presently leap in-
to Maggie's arms, crying :
“I knew it Mag! I just knew he'd
come? You thought he wouldn't, but
I just knew he would 1”
And Maggie, the child for whom no
Santa Claus had ever come, lauged all
the while her happy tears were raining
down on the boy’s eager face.
ER TRS.
The Only Way to Account for It.
The Christmas doll had come through
the mails from a city several hundred
miles away, and when it was taken out
of its box it was found to be in a some-
what chaotic condition. One arm was
gone, the bonnet was twisted around to
one side, the curls were flattened out ot
shape, the head was bent down, a por-
tion of the nose was broken off, the
eyes were looking in different directions,
and it stood pigeon toed on its feet. Lit-
tle Flossie eyed it for some moments in
solemn silence and then began rum-
maging the box as if searching for some-
thing else.
“What are you looking for, Flos-
sie?’ asked her mother.
“I am looking,” she answered with a
kind of it-grieves-me-to-see-you-in-this-
condition-my-child expression ‘on her
face, “to see if she hasn’t got a little bot-
tle of whisky somewhere 1n her bag-
gnge.””—Chicago Tribune.
———
More Than One.
- There will bea general:and hearty
eoncurrence with the following from
the Harrisburg Patriot :
“Six days off! Six days’ of
twenty-four hours each, hours linked
together with golden chains, days bound
by silken ties, days of rosy dawn and
golden sunset in the household. Six
days off Christmas |
Christmas, when all the world is
merry. Why, then, only one Christ-
mas in a year? Why only one day
when all is gladness 2 Why not a heart
Christmas every month? Why stolid-
ly await the anniversary of the birth of
the one who brought peace and good
will ?
‘We would not hinder the joys of this
week aor of the next. - But we may ask
that all the pleasura be not split in one
day or in a fortnight, Let us have
souls for more Christmases. Heart-
openings without waiting for December.
Good deeds without holding back for a
holiday. Let us make the sweetness,
the joy, the light that comes with Christ-
mas come oftener than once a year,
A AREER
Weather Proverbs for Christmas.
A warm Christmas, a cold Easter.
A light Christmas, a heavy sheaf.
A green Christmas, a white Easter.
A. green Christmas ‘makes a fat grave
yard.
A wind on Christmas day, trees will
bring much fruit.
If Christmas finds a bridge he’ll break.
it; it he finds none, ke’ll build one.
If ice will beara man before Christ
mas it will not bear a man afierward.
The shepherd would rather see his
wife enter the stable on Christmas. than
op any other’ day.
If the sun shines through the apple
tree on Christmas day there will be an
abundant. crop the following year.
Ola Time Epicures..
Listen to the enumeration of
things,described by Whistlecraft,to have
been served up at King Arthur's table
on Christmas day. If the list be authen-
feats of courage and strength performed
by the Knights of the Round Table:
They served up salmon, venison and wild
By hundreds'and by dozens and by scores,
Hogsheads of honey, kilderkins of mustard,
Muttons and fatted beeves and n swine
sta
! Teal, mallard, pigeons, widgeons, and, in
ne,
"Plumb puddin s, apple pies and custard
A TE Te De L00d Gascon
wine,
With mead and ale and clder of our own;
For porter, punch and negus were nof
nown.
When the Lovers Met.
From the New York Advertisar.
Tom—*‘ Yes, we swore to remain true
to each other. Then'I weat away for a
long time.”
Jack—‘“And she was alwaysin your
thoughts 2”
Tom —I thought a, good deal of her
—I mean I thought of her a good
deal.”
Jack—“And when you met you em-
braced her fondly, of eourse 2’ i"
Tom—4I would probably have. done
so were it not for our surroundings.’
+ Jack--4“The encounter was public?’
Tom—Yes, and both her husband,
and my wife werq present.”
tie, there is less reason to wonder at the |
Herons and bitterns, peacocks, swan and :
==—CHRISTMAS.,— 2
Christ, the Lord, is born to-day!
Hang the house with golly gay,
Ring the tuneful bell
In the churches, vastand dim.
Solely for the love of Him,
The Te Deum swell !
Meet the pocr with open hands ;
Ask that Christ's Divine commands
Sweetly in thee dwell!
—Grace W. Haight, In Good Housekeeping.
Seasonable Thoughts.
Christmas tide is peculiarly a season
of joy and festivity. Its “good cheer”
has passed into a proverb. Christmas
is the birthday of Christendom, It
may, in a sense, be said to be the birth-
day of all Christians. Those who
celebrate no other birthday, celebrate
this. © There are noue so poor as not to
find ways and means to secure a visit
from Santa Claus on Christmas eve,
and none so rich as not to long for his
visits, The festival is universal—not
confined to any sect of Christians, nor
to any nation nor.group, of nations. All
persons born in the peace of Christian-
ity have an inheritance in it. Its cele-
bration is becoming year by year more
universal. It is difficult to find a per-
son who does not now keep it as the
greatest holiday. :
Fitting it is that He who came to
proclaim peace on earth to men of
good will should be honored in a festi-
val of good humor. Christmas is of
religious institution. But while its
pious features are not forgotten, its
peculiarly human features are becom-
ing constantly more prominent. Init
we remember’ not only our own kith
and kin, but our neighbors, our fellow-
citizens, our fellow-country-men, and
beyond all these all our fellow-beings—
only a minute fraction of whom we can
ever personally know. To assist at
such a festival makes us all better—it
widens our sympathies. The whole
human race is one. Every person is
in one way or the other dependent up-
onsome one else for everything that
makes life tolerable. Commerce, even
in spite of wars and aggressions, is
every year bringing all branches of the
human family 1nto closer relations.
Bad as the savage and semi-civilized
nations and races sre now treated by
the highly civilized nations that come
into contaet with them, their treatment
is much better than it was in the past.
The world, in spite of eynieism, 18 get-
ting better. The improyement is sure
if slow.
The burning of the Yule log lights
up happy homes. The sparks chase
away the demons of discontent that
seem to hannt many homes at all sea-
sons of the year but Christmas. Many
persons, perhaps most mature persons.
while watching the sparks ascending,
think of friends absent—some tempora-
rily, some forever.. The Egyptians.
were in the habit of having a reminder
of death at all their feasts. We re-
quire no material coffin at our great
annual rennion of families to tell us of
the “mousned, the loved, the lost.!’
A children’s festival is sure to be
well celebrated. Children are not re-
strained: by the prudential-motives-
which often prevent mature persons
from satisfying their desires. The lit-
tle folks. will have their way. Their
fathers and mothers, even if they had
to stint themselves in other directions,
would be compelled to keep up Christ.
mas in its pristine glory. We are at
peace with all the world—indeed, it
may be said of the present time as of
the morn of the Nativity,
“No. war or battle’s sound
Was heard the worl around.”
‘As a nation we were never more:
prosperous than now, This will be in
fact, as well in name, a “Merry Christ.
mes. — Fz,
Ballion Alt Used Up.
WW asriNaroN, Dec. 22—The convers
sion of trade dollar bullion into stand:
ard silver dollars, was completed to-
day. The coinage of standard silver
‘dollars is therefore at an end, unless a
change shall be made in the policy of -
ithe Treasury Department through con-
.gressional enactment or otherwise.
The coinage of 2,000,00€ ounces. of; sil-
‘ver or $2,585,000 a month under the
(act of July 14th. 1890, ceased on the
i first of July last, and the coinage of
istandard dollars since that date has.
i been confined to the trade doliaz bul:
lion in the treasury. i
+ This latter coinage was authorized by
an act of March 3, 1891, which: requir-
ed the Secretary of the Treasury to
‘coin trade dollar bullion into silver
dollars, as soon ‘as practieable: The
total amount of this bullion. on hand
July 1st was 4,365,631 ounces, ‘costing
$4,020,361, and the entire amount has
been coined into silver dollars. J
Leach, Director of the Mint, said
this afternoon that while he was not
authorized to speak of the future 'sil-
ver policy of the department hethought
there is. scarcely any doubt that the.
coinage of standard s'lver dollars will
be continued at the San Francisco and
Carson City mints in amounts suffi-
cient to meet the necessities of the ser-
vice. He estimated this at $100,000 a
month for each mint.
In the Grip’s Clutches.
WiLKESBARRE, Dee, 20.—An epi.
demic of grip is prevailing to an alarm-
ing degree in this city. For the past
few days-the disease has been increas.
ing and to-day about one third of the
citizens are sufferers from the malady.
The doctors have more work than they
can attend to, and business, except in
the drug stores, is seriously affected by
the epidemic.
Many of the conductors and motor
men on the electricroads are sick and
have substitutes:in their places. The
newspapers find it dif@ult to get out
an edition, as printers, pressmen, fore
men and the staff are alike compelled
to succumb to the epidemic. The cold
snap hasincreased instead of diminish-
ing the extent of the sickness and
should it increase, Christmas here will
be'a gloomy one. A few of the smaller
stores have been closed and the sign
‘“fgickness” hung on the doors. At
resent there seems to be no abatement
in the ravages of the malady.