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PIN SN INN NIN NN NIN IN NNN IN NN NN lt
THE NIGHT BEFORE— |
Merry Christmas,
and Paid in Ful
How Silas Vaughan Contrib-
uted to Yuletide Cheer
of the Needy.
nnn,
By FRANK HERBERT SWEET
T WAS an eloqueni
plea for the public
building, an urge
for its beauty, its
value to the town,
the educational
gift to the eyes of
youth. The speak:
er was hypnotic
He had been engaged for that.
Purse strings were loosened. Money
poured freely—twenty, fifty, a hundred,
five hundred. And it was Christmas,
They went to Silas Vaughan, the
grocer leader, a wealthy man of the
town. People looked surreptitiously to
see what munificent sum he would
give. |
At first a hand went into his pocket
like the others, then came out and
the arms were folded. There was
audible gasp from watchful eyes.
More pleas came, more solicitors
went round, man to man.
But Silas sat there, arms folded,
vigid, unmoved.
*Times are too hard,” he was heard
0 gay in answer to an importunate
beggar. “It is a bad year for such a
building.”
“Not bad for me, and all those who
hn
! CHRISTMAS ZEST
0 HRISTMAS zest warms the
heart and makes the heart
glow. Do not let any outside
J» cynicism rob you of this glow.
Do not curl your lip and say
? you know the elevator man or
the grocer’s boy or the many f
others to whom you give a little
Christmas joy is just looking for
the present and is being polite
for that reason.
Enjoy their pleasure in receiv-
ing. Enjoy, yourself, in giving.
And doesn’t every one enjoy
presents? When you say:
y “He's looking for a Christmas
present,” you lose half your own
joy.
When you say:
“What an opportunity to add
a little present to another per-
son’s Christmas,” you have your
own full measure of joy.
Christmas zest must not be
bereft of any of its spirit.—
Mary Graham Bonner.
(©, 1925, Western Newspaper Union.)
~~. 28 er
yield to noble impulses,” said a neigh-
bor in a voice that all could hear.
The next day was Christmas, with |
, the grocery and drug stores open for
' a few hours.
his desk and took out twice as many
bills as ever had been allowed to ac- :
fore. Times were hard, |
ehinilatel betore. Tin | things. Merry Christmas. Paid in
Silas Vaughan went to
and more were obliged to charge.
Fully half of the accounts were se-
lected from the others, and several
words written at the bottoms. That
took nearly an heur. Then he slipped
the bills into his pocket, put on his
hat and coat, and went out, leaving
the store to the clerks,
It was nearly closing time when he
came back. This he occupled with
packing and arranging a number of
baskets with fruit and nuts and candy,
which he sent out anonymously.
| blowin’,
In the evening came a big church
community Christmas tree.
Most of the donors of the publie
building were there, rather proud of
themselves and not above circulating
bits of criticism. When Silas entered,
there was no uncertain air of chilli
ness in the room. A few nodded to
him, but frigidly.
Silas appeared to take no notice, and
found a seat near the front, where ap-
parently he sat calm and unruffled.
A poorly-dressed man down in front
had been looking about expectantly, as
though waiting for some one to speak.
Suddenly he rese.
“I ain't no speaker,” he called,
loudly, “but I got suthin’ to say.
‘Bout the new buildin’, I ain’t nothin’
to say, only seems too much money
for real need. An’ I never liked horn-
Now, it’s been an awful hard
time for workin’ folks, on ‘count o’
there bein’ so much slack. First time
I couldn’t pay up in twenty years. 1
couldn’t see no Christmas for me.
Now, listen: This mornin’ a feller
carried papers all round. I got one.
First, I felt °t was a sheriff thing, like.
Ic:
4 N
Le Ci bJ
[ 4 er ‘
Zia
ama LR
Then I read on the bottom, ‘I hope
this will be the beginning of better
full. Silas Vaughan.” Mine was thir.
ty dollars. Si must ‘a’ given away
more’n a thousand.”
He sat down. Sflas had lost all his
composure, He tried to slip away.
But hands and apologies were appear
ing from all sides. He was pushed tc
the platform and told to make ¢
speech. He would have made a mes.
of it, but all were cheering so wildl
no one could hear. So it did not mat
ter.
(©, 1926, Western Newspaper Union.)
Merry Open House
on Christmas Eve
Seamstress Finds a Warm
Welcome and Assists at
Social Function.
By MARTHA BANNING THOMAS
KACON HILL was
ablaze with can-
dles. They shone
in every window.
They gleamed
through the glas.
panes of the door-
ways. Tall can-
short
dles; candles of every size and color.
For was it not Christmas Eve? And
is it not a custom to make merry at
this special time in a very charming
Groups of Carolers Stood at Street |
Corners and Sang.
Jroups of carolers stood at street |
corners and sang. Hundreds of people
strolled up and down. There was an !
atmosphere of good will that pervaded
the place as surely as wreaths hung
in the windows.
There was one house in particular
chat glowed with a shining brilliance. E
Part of this light was ‘due to a pyra-
mid formation of candles on the win-
dow-sill, and part came from the
happy sounds which issued forth
through the open door. This place was
keeping “open house” with a venge-
ance. It looked like a glorified Christ-
mas card.
Miss Mixter never knew exactly
now it happened. She was hurrying
home after a hard day’s sewing in a
dressmaker’s shop. She was tired and
hungry. Christmas Eve to her merely
meant that she was wearier than usual.
She stopped for a moment to look in
through the door of this happy, shin-
ing house. And then, almost unaware
of what she did, she walked in. Yes,
she actually did. And she had no
more idea of who lived there than a
maple tree on Boston Common! Some-
thing drew her straight to the fire.
place. She went as naturally as sa
bee seeks honey.
In that merry, well-dressed throng
she locked a bit rusty. Her hat was
entirely too old. There was some
thing wrong in the cut of her coat.
Her gloves had seen hard service. And
her shoes, well—her shoes were the
despair of cobblers.
Miss Mixter began talking to &
laughing-eyed woman dressed in green,
“You look like a daffodil,” said Miss
Mixter. And this pleased her hostess
so much that she burst into a peal of
merriment,
From that moment they seemed to
have a great deal to say to each other,
Then, suddenly looking about her,
Miss Mixter saw she was the centex
of attention. Dozens of interested
people were regarding her with
amused eyes.
A quick reaction swept over her,
She felt lonely and afraid. Why was
she here? Who were these peopleil
Why had she come into this house?
She felt a quiet hand on her arm.
“Do stay, won't you?’ begged the
hostess in green,” I need someone to
help me. Couldn't you spare a moment
on Christmas Eve to aid a daffodil in
distress! Just keep your eye on these
people and tell me who is served and
who is not. It's so difficult.”
Miss Mixter looked up keenly into
the smiling face. And she knew ska
was genuinely wanted.
“I'll stay,” announced Miss Mixter,
“and,” she grew spirited, “the firsi
person who needs a cup of coffee iw
myself.”
(©, 1925, Western Newspaper Union.)
Christmas Song
Why do bells for Christmas ring?
Why do little children sing?
Once a lovely, shining star,
Seen by shepherds from afar,
Gently moved until its light
Made a manger-cradle bright.
There a darling baby lay
Pillowed soft among the hay.
And his mother sang and smiled,
“This is Christ, the Holy Child.”
So the bells for Christmas ring,
So the little children sing.
—Lydia Avery Coonley Ward
of the
Gladn
oes B)
REE
§ ben o'er the moonlit, misty fields,
JA JIT Dumb with the world's great jop,
The shepherds sought the twhite-toalled tatu, |
Where lay the baby top— a
Gnd, of, the gladness of the world,
The glory of the shies,
Wecauge the longed-for Christ 160ked
Fn happy Mary's ees!
&
-Margaret Deland
Christinas Lesson
for Miss Belinda
Promise to Teach Maid to
Read and Write, Most
Welcome Gift.
By EMILY BURKS ADAMS
HRISTMAS was fix
evidence every-
where. The whole
household were
happy, save per
haps one—Belinda,
the German maid,
who had for six
months lived with
the Thoburns, a well-to-do family.
“Sure, Mrs. Toburn, I've done all 1
thought is right to do already, and
I'm pleased dot you like it.”
“Yes, Belinda, and the house never
looked prettier. You're quite an ar
tist as well as a cook. I'm glad you
gave up going to visit your sister, for
the good ‘dinner tomorrow depends
upon you. We shall try to make it up
to you, Belinda, in some way.”
“Oh, do you tink so, Mrs. Toburn;
T am sure pleased to know dot I am
ob service to you, and you are so good
fo me already,”
paid Belinda, with
a sigh, as she re- x
tired to her room.
The Thoburns,
old and young,
were radio enthu-
glasts, and were
being entertained
with Christmas
greetings and
carols.
“Mother, did
you notice that
Belinda seemed
sad — something
nnusual for her?
I wonder if we
have gotten her
enough for Christ- /
mas?—let's see— NR)
there's her beads, handkerchief, hose.
She will feel all right tomorrow. She
really doesn’t mind missing the visit
with her sister, does she? She'd rath-
er be doing all this for us, for serv-
Ing others is what makes one happy,
isn’t it, mother?”
“Oh, yes, I suppose 50, If the serv-
‘{ ice isn't too hard.”
“Mother, what do you mean by serv-
ice being too hard? I think we should:
enjoy doing things for others. I can.
never forget the quotation: ‘To live
in the hearts of others is not to die!
I think we should enjoy doing things
for others and not think it hard
What—"
“Well,” interrupted Mrs. Thoburn,
“you seem to think service hard, as:
you wouldn't write those letters for
Belinda last evening, and one was 8
Christmas letter to her sister. That,
probably was the cause of her sigh.”
Amy was listening in and heard
over the radio: “Let every true Amer
ican, as a gift to himself, give the
promise that he will teach one for
eigner how to read and write, and in
so doing, help drive illiteracy from
our land. A won- ;
derful gift to your
self and to the
one taught—‘As
ye have done it
unto the least of
these, ye have
done it unto Me.” \
Merry Christmas [\
to all.”
Amy looked at AN
the others, her
face beaming,
“Oh, mother, our
slogan for Educa-
tional week was: |
‘Bach one teach
one; ballots, not
bullets.’ ”
“A fine slogan, 2
Amy, if put into &
practice,” remarked Mrs.
Christmas morning all gathered
around the tree to open their pack
ages. Belinda stood in the back:
ground, beaming at the happiness oi
the others, for next to our own hap
piness is watching that of others. Box
after box was handed to Belinda, bul
the most beautiful of all was saved
until the last and presented by Amy.
“Here, Belinda, a lot of love with this
box; it contains paper, pencils, and
a book and my promise to you that
I'll teach you to read and write be
fore another Christmas.”
“Qh, thank you, Miss Amy; dis ir
vot I most vanted already. Gott bless
youl”
(©, 1926, Western Newspaper Union.)
The Willing Worker
Now father makes a dozeful pause,
A tired and slightly blue man.
A merry myth is Santa Claus,
But father’s only human.