SNOW had been falling In the mountains many days before Christmas. Down in the sunbright valley mother and little Nina gazed up at the shining peaks and were home sick. They would gladly have forgot ten snow, but father was in a moun tain cabin all alone. "Will he hang his stockings by the stone fireplace?" asked Nina, "and don't you s'pose he'll be 'vited some where to dinner?" "I wish we had stayed with him," said mother. "If he can live through the winter in the mountains, so could we." "Hut he told us 'no,' don't you re member? He said he brought us to southern California on purpose so we could live always in a summer land." Mother sighed. The little family had been west only a few weeks when father was offered a position as book keeper for a lumber company away up in the Sierras. Living in the moun tains had been delightful through the summer, but at the first hint of cold weather the tent home was packed, fa ther bought a cabin and sent mother and the little daughter to the valley. Father was an artist and he de clared that he should like nothing better than to paint picturps of snowy peaks with 110 one to interrupt him and nothing else to do but to guard the company's property. "It is a wonderful chance," he had Insisted. Mother and Nina had tried to be lieve he was right; but the little bungalow which they rented already furnished, seemed but a poor excuse for a house. "I wish I could see him hang up his stocking," continued Nina. "Oh, I wish I could put this penwiper I'm making in the very toe of it!" Mother made no reply. She wished so much that she, too, might help fill that lonely stocking in the mountain cabin. "Oh, mother, mother!" exclaimed Nina, dropping her spool and scissors and springing to her feet. "I have a be-autiful idea! You always have to keep your Christmas presents, don't you? You never can send them back, can you?" "Surely not," was the answer. "But, mother, s'pose you wish your Christmas present hadn't come. Would it be very polite to tell the oneS that gave it to you that you were getting along nicely without their Christmas present and that you really didn't want it?" "Why, of course not, Nina. We must think of the loving thought be hind the gift, even if Uncle John should send no skates this very win ter!" Two arms flew swiftly around moth er's neck. "Oh, I have such a be-autiful idea," repeated Nina. "We'll ride on the stage with the Christmas box and give ourselves to father for a Christmas present. He wouldn't return his .Christmas present, now, would he?" "Would you be contented, Nina, to live up there all winter?" asked mother. "You must remember that we will be four miles from Fredalba. You will have no little girls to play with, no school, no Sunday school, no—" "Rut, mother, can't we have a school with you for the teacher, and a Sun day school? Can't I have a whole row of fenow men to play with? And, mother! we'll have a real Christmas!" Thus it happened that two passen gers went up the trail on the last stage of the old year. "Anybody going to meet you in Fredalba?" asked the stage driver. "The weather is pretty severe up here a few thousand feet higher. Had lots of rain in the valley and that means snow storms in the mountains." "No one will meet us," said 'mother, "but we know the trail from Fredalba and our burros are there, although we didn't expect to see them again until next summer." "You can telephone from Fredalba," suggested the stage driver. "They tell me your husband has a telephone out at camp." "But we're Christmas presents," ex plained Nina; "so we must surprise him. Don't you know that to-night will be Christmas eve?" "If the wind dosen't come up, you'll be all right," the man replied, but unless I'm mistaken, there's a heavy snow falling in the mountains this minute." At Fredalba every one advised mother and Nina not to attempt the trail until morning. This time it was mother who would push on. "We know the trail so well," said she, "and the burros know it better. In two hours we can reach camp." "It seems to me," said tfie stage driver as he watched the two disap pear around th« curve, "it seems to me that some folks haven't any sense," and shutting his lips in a determined fashion he went to the telephone and called for Nina's father. "I'll tell him his folks are coming and togo out to meet them," he explained to the men standing near. "Otherwise the poor fellow may have a surprise he won't like on Christmas day." To the stage driver's dismay there wa no answer to his call. Father's cabin in the Sierras was evidently de serted. "See here," said he to a friend, "you call Brown up in half an hour and tell him that his wife and daughter are on the trail." "The wires are down," declared a big man who came in at that moment from outside. "No use trying to tele phone." With fear for the safety of his pas sengers, the stage driver drove down the trail to the valley. In the meantime the two plodded along on the sure footed burros, call ing merrily to each other as they passed the well-known landmarks. On and on, up and up they toiled, the snow falling faster and faster, the wind more furious every minute. One mile, two miles By that time the snow blinded them and but for the faithful burros they could not have kept the trail. It grew colder and colder, and the short afternoon was ended. That meant sudden darkness among those solemn, snow-clad peaks. It meant too, that mother and Nina But for the Faithful Burros They Cculd Not Have Kept the Trail. were thoroughly frightened. They couldn't talk except to urge the burros on. The wind took their breath. "We won't be Christmas presents, I'm afraid," sobbed Nina, through chattering teeth. "Say your prayers," suggested moth er, "it is all we can do now." They had long since dropped the reins and trusted the burros to choose their own way. Mother recalled story after story of men who had perished on those mountain trails and she blamed herself for ever attempting such a journey. Suddenly a welcome sight appeared before the struggling travelers. "The lights of Mr. Dean's cabin!" exclaimed Nina. "Oh, mother! We have reached Mr. Dean's ranch and we're still alive! To-morrow we'll see father!" A funny thing then happened. Both burros began to bray. Mother and Nina laughed and cried at the sound. Instantly the signal was answered. Robert Dean flung open the cabin door and in a flood of light beheld his visitors. "Well, well, well!" he exclaimed. "Who told you that we're having a Christmas dinner here this evening, turkey and all? Why, Miss Nina, your father is or was at the table!" The next thing Nina knew she was in her father's arms and mother was removing her wraps. "Are we frozen or anything, moth er?" asked the child. "No we're all right and so are the burros," was the reply. "Oh, how glad everybody is!" the little girl exclaimed. "And I'm hungry —and—and father, we're your Christ mas presents!" Father, for some reason couldn't say "thank you," but didn't speak of re turning the precious gifts and it is doubtful if anywhere in the valley be low there was such happiness as filled the mountain cabin that Christmas eve. Why She Stood There. "Don't you think," suggested a young man to his partner at a dance, "that we should move farther up the room out of the draught?" "Oh. well, if you like!" replied the girl, snaupishly. It was only when they moved away that the youth noticed that they had been beneath a large bunch of mis tletoe. A Useless Present. Aunt —Yes, Johnny, Sauta Claus brought you a baby brother Johnny—Great Scot! Another pres ent that ain't any use! CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1908. . fttlrtito | I iflmuttijß 1 | | The joyous time is drawing S nigh, the time of turkey, pudding, % $ pie; nor do we dream of after S $ ills, of squills, and pills, and % % Christinas bills. & % * A girl begins to hang up the * Zi mistletoe at about the age when she stops hanging up her stocking. I* » % ».< A pessimist is a fellow who A wouldn't hang up his stocking % x for fear old Santa Claus might £ '& swipe it. A J* » * X Christmas cigars are not £ always puffed up with pride. * J* S? | 7k There's many a slip 'twixt the t!; y Miss and the mistletoe. % .y» -j» | $ Don't make it too strong. £ Many a man has been knocked % % out by one good, stiff punch. $ » » % if: Ask a truthful woman what & £ she enjoys most about Christ- y ,-i, mas, and she will tell you the % g bargain sales afterward. t& & % 3; To sing a rhyme of Christmas jfc ¥ time (that line is but the first of % it), here's hoping you may not Si & feel blue because you get the % worst of it. % » » 112. When a child writes a letter « of thanks to Santa Claus, it £ & should be cherished like a rare plant. That kid isn't long for * % this world. y £ 30 30 % !fi No Christmas present is so useless that you can't pass it on X qjj to some one else next year. i i 30 30 i Remember that it is better to 2 & give than to receive—the things % $ you don't want. $ |» » % jj£ Take off the tags. Many a y. friendship has been severed by the price mar'c on a Christmas !ft $ present. ¥ 1 30 30 % % I have often wondered wherein % % consisted the wisdom of Solomon % •jfe when he had a thousand wives. <V lam now convinced that it must -k have been in living in the days •£ before Christmas was celebrated. $ 30 30 S It's all right to pity the poor % % at this peace-on-earth season, & but it is also well to remember that sympathy doesn't fill an pi y empty stomach. & v f/i rfi RULES FOR CHRISTMAS GIVING Give willingly. Give tactfully. Put thought into your giving. Don't consider return gifts. Never give to others what you wouldn't want yourself. The unexpected gift insures a spe cial appreciation. To give ostentatiously is the height of bad taste. Give to the sick and the sorrowful if you would know the true joy of giving. Never give more than you can af ford. Your friends know your circum stances as well as you do yourself and the pleasure of both giving and re ceiving is lost. A Question in Finance. "Are you good at arithmetic, my dear?" asked Mr. Perkasie of his wife. "I was accounted the very best arithmetician at school," replied Mrs. Perkasie, with a touch of pride in her voice. "I have a problem for you." "State it." "How can I buy $. r >o worth of Christ mas presents with $lO in cash and no credit?" ' 1 * *• . A'U , *'••# « A . J**# fit J* £ls "i 1 Cl;e Christmas g>ptrit H * * * lis 112 * Christmas is the season of kindness, for * * J £ , Christmas celebrates the coming of Christ ing c?£ to the world, and the heart of the Christ jtb message is love—love expressing itself in *62 homely channels of friendliness and good J J will, love that 44 snffereth long and is kind." SS $£ Tf we have kindly emotions, let them have *£ $ % their way and blossom into kindly thoughts * o J * and kindly deeds. Eet the free child spirit * * of open-hearted friendliness prevail, for J 112 this is the child's festival, celebrating the H * A* birth of a child, the wonderful Giver who gave fiimself for mankind. Eet us carry the g J Christmas spirit through all the following I? days that come and go with all their meas -3 pure of care or pain or pleasure, and bear In V § » ; our hearts the inspiration and hope of the J « 5 i blessed Christmas festival of love, bearing £ ever ringing above the sounds of earth and J 5 2 112 sense, the song of the angels heralding in 5 % g g the Mrtb of the Saviour of mankind. jJ \ t* ? B as MR. STAYBOLT AS SANTA CLAUS Some Things He Would Like to Giva If He Could. "Do you know the Christmas pres ent I'd like to make if I could?" said Mr. Staybolt. "I'd like to give cheer fulness to the downhearted; courage to the timid, and strength to the weak; the power of self-denial to thosa who yield too easily, and a desire to work to the lazy. "I have often thought what a pity it is that you can't buy all these things, these helpful qualities, already put up and at such a price as to put them within the reach of all; canned cheerfulness, bottled hopefulness, courage in tablets, and strength, say, in the form of a powder, and so on; or you might, I suppose, put 'em all up canned, for that matter. "But in the absence of such market preparations and our consequent in ability to buy such things and send them as gifts to those whom they might most benefit perhaps you will permit me to offer to each a word of suggestion. "To the dispirited take a cheerful view. To the downhearted, don't dwell on the doleful side. To the timid, don't be afraid. To the weak, or those who fancy themselves so, try your strength. You'll be surprised to find how much you've got. To those who yield too easily, deny, yourself once, and again, and feel the joy and strength that will come back to you. To the lazy, get a job with a shovel, in a gang of laborers, under a driving boss; and if you are not glad to got back to your present job to do the best you know how at it, I miss my guess. "I can't send you these things in cans or bottles; but if anyone of you will take my advice and stick to it, you'll think that Mr. Staybolt was a very kind Santa Claus." CHRISTMAS PROVERBS The love-light in the eyes of the precious ones of the household is the most brilliant of Christmas illumina tions. Tho soft Christmas light Is not the least welcome where the shadows of bereavement have fallen during the year. The Christmas angels hover over such dwellings of sorrow in min istrits of divine love. It was the Christ who said; "It is more blessed to give than to re ceive." Again, he said: "Inasmuch as ye have done it to one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me." « %eyj7oan amm W v. rnciuroe U H He mat ncrwiar x n At the Manger. When first, her Christmas watch to keept Came down the silent Angel, Sleep, With snowy sandals shod, Beholding what his mother's hands Had wrought, with softer swaddling bands She swathed the Son of God. Then, skilled In mysteries of Night, With tender visions of delight She wreathed his re'sting-place. Till, wakened by a warmer glow Than heaven Itself had yet to show, He saw his mother's face. —John a. Tabb, In Atlantic. U>, now is pome our joyfull'st time. Let every man be jolly; Each room with Ivy leaves is drest, And every post with Holly. Without the door let Sorrow lie, And it for cold lie hap to die. We'll bury him in a Christmas Pye. And evermore be merry. of the evergreen plants have long been consid ered symbolic of immor ai tality, of rebirth. Hence they, and they alone, are appropriate decorations for the Christinas season, which was originally a celebration der the disguise of various national re ligious forms, of the turning of the sun at the winter solstice, and the con sequent renewal of life on the earth. When Conslantine was converted, he seized upon every underlying like ness, however remote, between the old faith and the new. Every familiar symbol that might be stretched to fit the strange faith; every old custom that would help to reconcile his lately, and sometimes forcibly, converted people to their unaccustomed belief, was adopted and re-explained. And the return of the sun, bringing life and light to the winter-bound earth, became the prototype of the coming of the Son of Man, bringing life and light to the soul of the sin-bound world. So that at first all the heathen observances were retained as far as possible, and merely given a new meaning. At the Christmas festival, the ivy and holly still made a summer screen of the stone walls, as in ancient Ger many they had turned the huge halls at mid-winter, to bowers of greenery, wherein the sylvan sprites, who dwelt in summer among the forest trees, might pass the frozen months without too much discomfort. An echo from Scandinavia is still heard in the say ing current among the peasants of the old world that if any bit of holiday decoration is left in the house after Candlemas day (February 2), a troop of little devils wll enter and sit, one on each withered leaf, every one bringing its own small curse upon the house. These little devils are merely the old forest sprites, detained against their will by their undestroyed winter refuge and fretting to return to the awakening woods of spring. The churches were still green with Christmas garlands in those early days, and ablaze with candles, as the temples of Saturn had always been during the corresponding Roman fes tival of the Saturnalia, nut, as Poly dore Vergil remarks, "Trymmyng the temples with hangyngs, floures, boughes and garlandes, was taken of the heathen people, which decked their idols and houses in suche array." And as time went on, and it became no more necessary to make conces sions that would help reconcile the people to their changed faith, these "heathen" customs became distaste ful to the church. One of the early councils forbids men longer "to deck up their houses with lawrell, yvie, and greene boughes, as we used to doe at the Christmasse season." This command was observed in the temples, but in the baronial halls the old customs lived on; lived down their questionable past; won again the tol eration of the priests who had sternly banished them, and to-day all the ever greens again are admitted to the strictest church, so that we again can say at Christmas, "Now with bright Holly all the temples strow With Ivy green, and sacred Mistletoe." The "Early Calendar of English Flowers," an old poem wherein each month is recognized by its appropriate plant symbol, ends with these lines: Boon the evergreene Laurel alone is greene, When Catherine crowns all learned menne. The Ivie and Hollie berries are seene. And Yule log and Wassaile come round agen. The laurel is used not at all, and the Ivy but little, in American decoration* at Christmas, since both plants are exceedingly rare here. But in England the use of the ivy at least is universal, and the references to it in Christmas song and story alone would fill a small . volume. Besides its claim to appropriate ness for the Christmas season which it holds in common with other ever greens, it has two especially strong recommendations of its own. On ac c .lit of its habit of clinging strongly to its supporting tree or wall, it is a popular symbol of friendship and fidelity, and as such, an excellent deco ration for the season of good will and universal brotherhood. And it was, in Roman days, sacred to Bacchus, who, when a baby, was hidden by his aunt, Ino, among its leaves, to save him from Juno's destructive wrath. Prynne says: At Christmas men do always Ivy got. And in each corner of the house it set; 1 But why do they then use that Bacchus weed? Because tlioy mean then Bacchus-like to feed. This satirical explanation was but too true in the earlier days, when Christmas lasted for weeks, and was given over to a revelry almost wholly heathen in character. To-day, in America, the Christmas decorations almost exclusively are of holly, which, for all its popularity, la less consecrated by legend than any other holiday greenery. To be sure we make a sparing use of the mistle toe, which, from the ancient Druidical meaning of purity given to its wax white berries, and fnom its use by them in the marriage rite, has come to give a charter for kissing as "broad as the wind." And we have added the bitter-sweet, which has no traditional signification whatever, is not an evergreen, and is to be tolerated merely for its beauty's sake, and for the slight suggestion it gives of the holly berry. Our American holly is said to be less beautiful thdn the European plant, having leaves of a duller green. But, making all allowances for pos sible disadvantages, it still is a re markably beautiful tree. And as a symbol of the immortality which it is the season's special mission to teach, it surely has no rival. The leaves re main on the branches for three years, losing their hold only when they are pushed off at last by the growing buds of spring. Throughout England, so little is its supremacy disputed, that it is popular ly known as "Christmas," just as the hawthorn is called "The May." Its name has been a matter of con siderable interest. Theophrastus and other Greek authors named the plant Agria; that is, wild, or of the fields. The Romans formed from this the word Agrifolium and called it also Aquifolium, from actum, sharp, and folium, a leaf. Bauhin and Loureiro first named it Bex, from the resemb lance of its leaves to those of the Quercus Ilex, a species of oak which was the true Ilex of Virgil. Linnaeus adopted the name Ilex for the genus, and preserved the name Aquifolium for the most anciently known species. Our popular name, holly, probably is a corruption of the word holy, as Turner in his herbal calls it holy, and holy tree. The thorny foliage, and the berries like drops of bright blood, could scarcely fail to remind a Chris tian of the crown of thorns, and this, together with the universal use of the plant in the churches at Christmas easily would account for the name. In Germany it is known as Christ dorn. The Danish name is Christorn and the Swedish Christtorn. The same name, Christ's thorn, is found In somo parts of England. But as no legend connects the holly with the crown of thorns, this name, universal among the Germanic peoples, must be merely the result of its appearance and of its Christmas popularity, as before suggested. 13
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers