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