* Pewee
Bellefonte, Pa., Dec. 24, 1897.
UNCLE WILL'S GIFT
A TRUE STORY RELATED BY HIS NEPHEW.
On Christmas day Uncle William re-
ceived a card inscribed as follows:
William Bunting, Esq., debtor to his
nephews Alexander and Fred and to his
nieces Norah and Dorothea, for money
expended in his behalf ....cccvvveeeeees,.$0 16
Uncle William paid the money at once,
but he wrote to say that he should like to
know how it happened that he owed us 16
cents. It was Alexander who had sent the
bill in—for a boy of 12 he really is most
WE SPENT THE ODD FOURTEEN CENTS ON A
WHITE JAVA MOUSE.
businesslike—and we deputed him to an-
swer Uncle William’s letter. He did so.
He replied that the 16 cents was the sum
spent in excess of the sum subscribed by
Alexander, Fred, Norah and Dorothea for
the purpose of giving Uncle William a
Christmas present. Then Uncle William
wanted to know how, if this was the case,
it happened he never got the Christmas
present from us. Alexander said that he
did not feel inclined to go into any further
details. He sent Uncle William back the
bill properly receipted and a little note to
say that the correspondence on this subject
must now terminate.
Perhaps the thing does seem a little
strange, but the explanation is perfectly:
simple, and I give it. I am Norah, and
Alexander and I are twins. The other two
are quite young. It was I who first had
the notion that we ought to give Uncle
William a Christmas present. When any
of us has a notion, she or he calls a meet-
ing of the others. That was what I did.
I said that Uncle William was always
giving us presents and yet we never gave
him anything. It was true that he had
said nothing about it, but I was sure that
he must have felt it. Christmas was now
near, and it would be a good opportunity
for us.
This was agreed. Alexander and I each
contributed 30 cents—10 cents more than
Fred or Dorothea. Thus the total sum was
$1, for which a very good present might
have been bought — something which !
would have shown uncle every time he
looked at it that his nephews and nieces
thought about him a good deal and tried
to please him, even at some personal sac-
rifice to themselves. We did not decide
what the present was to be at once, be-
cause Alexandersaid that would have been
grossly irregular. We were to have com-
mittee meetings every day about it and
discuss it thoroughly. Fred was appoint-
ed treasurer of the fund. He putit allina
waistcoat pocket and got me to sew the
pocket up for him in case of accidents.
At the next meeting Dorothea suggest-
ed that we should buy chocolates (French)
in a box. It was objected that Uncle
William never ate chocolates. *“No,” said
Dorothea, ‘he doesn’t, but he sometimes
gives them away. Then next time he
wanted to give anybody any he wouldn’t
have to buy them.” = Fred thought that it
would be dishonorable to give chacolates,
and we agreed with him. We then decid-
ed to buy a tobacco pouch, which certain-
ly would have been a suitable present.
There are very few shops in our village, so
- an inventive mandarin, 2,000 years ago,
ana to pe reimpursea Ouv or the Tana.
The two return tickets were 20 cents,
and we had refreshments at the station
which came to 16 cents. Alexander said
that this was usual and committees always
had refreshments. We were left with 64
cents to spend on the pouch. However,
we found that we could get very good
pouches for 50 cents each. I wanted to
get a black one and Alexander wanted
brown. So we decided not to buy either
yet, but to take the votes of the whole
committee on it. We spent the odd 14
cents on a white Java mouse. We felt sure
Uncle William would like it. The man in
the store said that people often came in
offering as much as 25 cents each for mice
of that particular kind. When we got
back—the mouse traveled in Alexander’s
pocket—we at once held another commit-
tee meeting.
Dorothea said that if Alexander and I
had refreshments the rest of the committee
ought to have them also. So we had
chocolates—10 cents’ worth. We agreed to
purchase the black pouch. Fred suggest-
ed that there was just a possibility that
Uncle William would not care about the
mouse Alexander said that he would tel-
egraph about it, and did. This was the
telegram:
UNCLE WiLLiAM—Do you like white Java
mouse? Tame. Eats anything.
ALEXANDER.
In about an hour the answer came back:
Most certainly not.
This caused us some consternation. It
was thought better to go to town again on
the morrow and see if the man in the store
would take back the mouse. In the mean-
time Fred’s pocket was unpicked and the
entire fund handed over to Alexander in
order that he might reimburse himself.
Alexander said that he would keep ac-
counts, and if there was anything over he
would get some very cheap present—per-
haps a card. The pouch was, of course,
now impossible.
He and I went together as before. While
we were having refreshments at the sta-
tion he did his accounts.
“They don't come out very well,” he
said rather dolefully, ‘but perhaps we
shall be taking the mouse back just when
some one is wanting to give a quarter for
a real Java one.”
He felt in his coat pocket as he spoke,
and then he looked more doleful still. The
mouse had escaped during the journey.
The accounts were thus:
Expenses of first visit to town
White Java mouse
Chocolates......
‘““We are 16 cents to the bad,” I said,
‘‘and we haven’t got any present. The re-
freshments have come to so much this
time. ”’ :
‘All committees and delegates of com:
mittees have refreshments,’’ said Alexan-
der dictatorially. ‘It doesn’t matter. I've
paid the deficit so far, but Uncle William
will have to make it up. It’s all his fault.
If he hadn’t been there, we shouldn’t have
wanted to be generous to him.”’
So we sent Uncle William the bill. He
is still rather puzzled about it. Fred and
Dorothea think the thing was misman-
aged. I don’t. No more does Alexander.
Christmas and Chess?
Fiction and Facts Concerning the the Origin of the
Game
The oldest game known is associated
with the season we now designate as holi-
day week. According tc the Brahmans,
chess was invented in the second age of the
world, about the time of the shortest day
of the year, by the wife of Ravan, king of
Lauka, then capital of Ceylon, in order to
furnish him with amusement by an image-
ry of war, it being supposed he was per-
sonally unable to participate in its excite-
ments and dangers while his chief city
was closely besieged by an enemy.
Similarly the Chinese annals relate that
while on a military expedition—when the
sun shone the fewest hours—whose labori-
ous effects undermined the endurance and
esprit de corps of his soldiers, devised the
game of chess as an exercise which would
at the same time not only amuse but in-
spire them with martial ardor.
The oft told story of Palamedes is but a
repetition of the mandarin anecdote, only
that he was then at the siege of Troy and,
presumably, had many ‘spare moments’’
during those weary ten years. But it is |
wholly impossible for chess either to have :
had its beginning in the manner purport-
| ed or to have been accepted enthusiastical-
ly and intelligently by a camp of ignorant, |
barbarous soldiery. Like friendship, it
must have been ‘‘a plant of slow growth, *
and in its infancy represented the attacks :
and stratagems of two or three opposing '
| forces. These tales are fables—creations
i of the fancy—while the veritable history
| of the game may be divided into three
| epochs: (1) That of the ancient Hindoo
| game called chaturanga, which is coeval
' with the most ancient period of Indian
i chronology and extends to the beginning
of the fifteenth century; (2) that lasting
but 100 years, ending in the sixteenth cen-
tury, up to which time the moves and pow-
| ers of the chessmen remained principally
WHILE WE WERE HAVING BREAKFAST AT THE
STATION HE DID HIS ACCOUNTS.
Alexander and I took the train next after-
noon to a larger town, in order to buy the
vouch. Alexander was to nav avarvéhi-—~
as in the chaturanga, though the men
were ranked in two armies instead of in
four and two of the kings were trans-
formed into queens; (8) the modern
epoch in which the moves of the queen
and of the bishop have been greatly ex-
tended and the privilege and practice of
‘‘castling’’ has been introduced. The game
has consequently undergone a gradual im-
provement and extension as skilled ex-
ponents have brought to bear upon it their
ingenuity and experienna.
A Comedian’s Plight.
Adventure That Befell Nat Goodwin on a Christ-
Nicht,
‘Uhe most eventful Christmas I ever
passed was in 1891 We had played in
Utica Christmas eve and were to leave on
an early morning train for Poughkeepsie.
The company caught the train all right,
but it was frightfully cold and a blizzard
was raging. I decided to wait for a later
train, which would reach Poughkeepsie
about 5 o'clock. Instead of clearing up,
however, the storm grew worse, and the
train that I waited for never came. It
was stalled in a drift up the road some-
where I began to realize then that it was
a cold day for me in more senses than one.
1 tried to hire an engine, but didn’t suc-
ceed, for there was none. 1 finally gave
it up in despair and went back to the ho-
tel. George Appleton, my manager, was
made of sterner stuff than I, however, and
in about two hours had organized a party of
storm bound passengers and persuaded an-
other railroad to make up a mixed train
and try to get us through to the uncom-
pleted bridge at Poughkeepsie. We would
be landed on the opposite side of the river,
they said, but we could get across to the
town by the ferry. The depot was about
three miles outside of Utica, and it took |
us three hours and a quarter to reach it. |
There was no fire in the cars we secured,
and mighty little in the engine. At 8
o’clock Christmas night we were dumped
out at the landing opposite Poughkeepsie.
The river was full of jagged masses of
ice and the ferryboats had been compelled
to stop running at 6 o'clock. There was
THE GUARD WAS OBDURATE.
no possible way of crossing except by the
half finished railroad bridge, and that was
guarded at either end by watchmen, who
had orders to allow no one to pass. More-
over, there was no approach to the bridge,
whose ice clad buttress arose abruptly from
the river's edge to a height of a hundred
feet or more. The other passengers stopped
right there and sought shelter in a neigh-
boring hotel. I wanted to follow their good
example, but Appleton wouldn’t let me.
He said we had gone too far to turn back
then, and, besides, a sturdy small boy at
the hotel had offered to show us how to
climb to the bridge. He was rewarded in
advance, and then we set out to battle
with fate. The small boy took the lead,
Appleton followed him, I made a close
third, and my valet, Jack, formed a kind
of rear guard to look after my remains in
case of accident. Our small guide led us
straight to the huge buttress of the bridge,
which was built of massive blocks of stone
arranged in terrace form from its broad
base to its narrow apex. These terraces
were about 15 feet high and covered with ,
ice and snow It was impossible for a man
to climb them unaided, but the boy was
equal to the emergency. After prowling
about for a few minutes he found a ladder
which had been used by the workmen I
can’t begin to describe the difficulties and
dangers of that climb, but at last we
scrambled to the top, with clothes torn and
hands bruised and bleeding Fortunately
the watchman was walking toward the
middle of the bridge, and we had a chance
for a good start before he could stop us.
After a short breathing spell Appleton,
Jack and 1 began our perilous journey
along the narrow footpath that stretched
across the ghastly looking ironwork, but
before we had reached the middle of the
bridge the watchman stopped us and or-
dered us to go buck. We pleaded and pro-
tested and argued, but it was of no use.
He wouldn’t even take a bribe Hereupon
the boy Jack loudly called my attention to
the fact that the water looked awfully cold
down below Appleton quickly added that
under certain circumstances it would make
an excellent plunge bath, and I chipped in
with a flippant remark about it being a 8
to 1 shot.
That watchman evidently thought we
meditated murder or some equally desper-
ate crime, for his eyes fairly bulged from
their sockets as he backed away from us
as far as the narrow fcotpath would per-
mit. We brushed by him instantly and
continued on our way without any further
interference from him. The watchman at
the other end of the bridge, howeves
proved of different metal. He was as big
as two of us, and we didn’t dare to attempt
any bluff with him. He was even more
obdurate than the other fellow. It began
to look as though all our labor was to be
in vain when Appleton whispered to me
to run while he engaged the watchman in
conversation. Well, I scooted, and so did
Jack, but we didn’t scoot far, for we were
brought to a sudden standstill by the ab-
rupt termination of the bridge at the but-
trees. It was a sheer 100 feet to the ground
and there was no ladder. I gave it up
again and could have wept scalding tears
if it hadn't been so cold. Appleton, how-
awr. succeeded in nacifving the wawhmsn
i
and came to our rescue with grim ae-
termination in his stride. He boldly
jumped down the first terrace and called
upon Jack and me to follow. Jack did so,
but I hesitated. That 15 feet seemed like
a precipice, and the landing on the next
terrace looked awfully hard and insecure.
I didn’t dare to jump, so I compromised
by taking a kind of toboggan slide on my
coattail. It wasn’t as exhilarating or as
fascinating as many other slides I have
had, but it was quite as exciting. In this
way I reached terra firma in a somewhat
dismantled condition. Incidentally I bade
a tearful goodby to my trousers next day.
It was about two miles from the bridge
to the opera house, and we had to foot it,
because there wasn’t a vehicle abroad that
night. We ran most of the way to keep
from freezing, and after frightening a cou-
ple of women into hysterics, because they
misunderstood our hurried request for in-
formation, we arrived at the theater at a
quarter past 9 and proceeded with the per-
formance. As there was no time to change
1 went on just as I was, looking like a
scarecrow on a Massachusetts farm. The
audience was good natured, though, and
readily forgave me when they learned what
had happened. NAT C. GoopwiN,
Daring the War.
The Christmas of 1861 at the south was
not so much different from those that pre-
ceded, but the Christmas of 1862 found
the Confederate money at a heavy discount.
Wood was $45 per cord and turkeys $11
each, but even at those prices many were
still able to enjoy them, and there were
still some toys to give the little folks.
Then came the bitter year of 1863, with
the fall of Vicksburg and the defeat at
Gettysburg With sad faces, harmonizing
well with their dresses of coarse black
stuff, the women of the south devoted
themselves to picking lint and spinning
and weaving for husbands, fathers, broth-
ers and sweethearts in the field Christ-
mas cheer—such as could be obtained—
cost a fabulous sum, for one bright golden
dollar was then worth $28 in Confederate
money Sugar was from $5 to $10 per
pound, turkeys $50 apiece and flour $25
per barrel. :
‘* Christmas, 1864—the last Christmas of
war times—dawned, and what a gloomy
festival it was for the people of the south,’
says a southern lady ‘‘Of manufactured
products we had practically none. Our
hairpins were made of long, black thorns,
with a ball of sealing wax on one end. We
had made into dresses every scrap of avail-
able material, and now our gowns consist-
ed of window curtains, ‘homespuns’ and
paper muslin or colored cambric that had
once done duty as a lining, while our feet
were incased in’ homemade cloth shoes.
At a Christmas dinner in a typical south-
ern home that day the festive board pre-
sented a turkey that had cost $200, a ham
worth $300, hominy’ and potatoes at cor-
respondingly high prices and black mo-
lasses—as dessert—at $60 per gallon. The
Confederate dollar was then worth just 2
cents in gold Wood was $100 a cord, beef
$35 a pound, flour $600 per barrel, butter
$40 per pound and sugar $30 per pound.
All was silent in the negro quarters.
There was no singing or dancing there
as usual. The slaves, having all heard of
‘de 'mancipation poclaration,’ knew that
they were free and had all scattered away.
Desolation seemed to reign over every-
thing.”
An Early Christmas Drinking Song.
The following verses from the original
in old Norman French are said to be the
first drinking song composed in England:
Lordlings from a distant home,
To seek old Christmas are we come.
Who loves our minstrelsy ?
And here, unless report missay,
The graybeard dwells, and on this day
Keeps yearly wassail, ever gay
With festive mirth and glee.
Yule Cakes.
Yule dough, a kind of baby or little
image intended to represent the child Je-
sus, made of paste, was formerly baked a
Christmas and presented by bakers to their
customers ‘‘in the same manner as the
chandlers gave candles.” They are still
called Yule cakes in the county of Durham,
England.
A CHRISMAS LULLABY.
Bylow, my babe, bylow,
Here on thy mother’s breast,
And, cuddled warm by her loving arm,
Droop down thy head to rest—
Poor, weary head, so filled with doubt
Of life and what it’s all about!
Bylow, my babe, bylow,
Curl up in flower wise
Thy rosy feet and white limbs sweet,
My bud of paradise—
Dear, tender limbs, too frail to share
The burden e’en which babes must bear!
Bylow, my babe, bylow,
Let tired eyelids kiss,
* And from thy sight shut this world’s light
And thy world’s light from this—
Love radiant eyes, twin stars that shine
Through darkling doubt with trust divine!
Bylow, my babe, bylow,
So shone the star of love
Long years ago, with guiding glow,
The newborn Christ above
And found an answering heavenly ray
Within the manger where he lay!
Bylow, my babe, bylow,
The star still rains its fire,
And the Master mild in the heart of a child
Bids echoing flame aspire,
And sphere and soul in concord sing,
“The King is born, and love is king!”
MARIOR MiLis MILLER.