16
No New Leaf
Said Mrs. A to Mr. A on Dec. 31:—
To-morrow another year begins. To-night is the time of all
times to plan for the future. To resolve; to forswear our petty vices;
to lay aside the evils in our lives. Have you, John, considered what
t<o-night means to you, and to me? Have you thought of the things
1 have gone without and might have had but for your extravagance?
1 lave you counted the cost to you, and to me, of your so-called pleas
ures ? You sit there smoking a vile weed, but have you thought of
the gowns you have burned up within a year? I venture to say no.
Let's talk it over, John, just you and I, and as the old year dies plan
for better and more noble things in the year to come.
Said Mr. A to Mrs. A on "Dec. 31:—
\ our sentiments, my dear, are noble ones, and meet with my
approval. We will plan to-night for the year that is to come. Yes,
not the year alone, but years. We will study and solve the problems
that mean a better and truer life for you and me. There are many
little things we might improve upon. So many better ways in which
to spend the small sums we now but throw away. The price of that
novel you are reading would have purchased the slippers I so badly
need. Now let's begin by my giving up cigars, which I agree are
but vile weeds, and you your novels, which are but the cheapest kind
of trash and twaddle.
Said Mrs. A to Mr. A on Dec. 31:—
With all the many vices with which you indulge yourself, it »ecms
that you might overlook the one small pleasure which I have. Yes, I
admit there are more elevating books than present-day novels. But
am I to give up my only pleasure, the one small thing from which I
get my wee mite of enjoyment? Do you, John, think it fair to ask
of me this sacrifice that you might have the slippers you certainly do
not need? Your vices are so great beside my small one. If you really
mean all that you say about pLlining for the future, why not give up
'' your club? It is but another of the many needless expenses which
you incur year after year.
Said Mr. A to Mrs. A on Dec. 31:
That's right, and I'm glad you mentioned it. I had not thought
of it before. That will be money saved. Now I propose a bargain,
and it's fair. My resignation from the club will go in to-night if you
will join me in the good work and mail to-night your withdrawal from
the bridge club or class or whatever you may call it. A good deed
is always better when it's doubled, and that will be two good deeds
accomplished, two savings made, instead of one. What say you, my
dear; will you join me in turning over this new leaf with the opening
of a new year? The question is entirely needless, for 1 know, of
course, that you will.
Said Mrs. A to Mr. A on Dec. 31:—
You certainly can be horrid upon this one night of all nights
when you should look back upon the things which you have needlessly
robbed me of during the year just closing. I should think you would
be ashamed to sit there and point to my few small pleasures as though
they were vices from which I should escape. There is certainly little
enough in life for me without being deprived of books and social
intercourse. But if I must, I must, and if the sacrifice of my innocent
pleasures will put a stop to your many vices I presume I must offer
them on the altar of noble and obedient wifehood. But, oh, John, I
•did not think you would ask it. (Tears.)
Said Mr. A to Mrs. A on Dec. 31:
Now, wife, don't cry. lam a brute and I admit it. Let's start
anew and talk this over. Let's see if we have sinned against ourselves
or others. Let's see if our so-called vices are not mere pleasures to
which we are entitled. I think they are. I see nothing we need repent
of; nothing to swear off. I'll keep my cigars and you your novels.
I'll keep my club and you your bridge game. We'll let gowns and
slippers go hang if need be, and enjoy ourselves. Now, that is better,
isn't it, my dear? That meets with your approval, I am sure, and we
will greet the coming year with joy and not with tears and lamenta
tions.
"Resolxled bv Mr. A and Mrs. A on Dec. 31:—
Durnig the next year and the years to follow we will live our lives
as we have lived them. We will enjoy to the full our several pleas
ures. We will make no new resolutions which we will later regret
and break. We will not ask either of us from the other that which
■each is not willing to give to the other, and now let the New Year
•come.
Dated 12 o'clock, midnight, December 31,
\
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DEC EMBER 23, 1909-
NEW YEAa ; iM|?
inMANY
mh H -
Americans are too busy to take
many holidays, but few of them fail
to observe New Year's day in some
way or other. The good old custom
of making calls on one's friends fell
Into disrepute long ago because it
was so abused by the over-convivial,
but family gatherings usually mark
the day, and the church folk all over
the country still hold watch meetings
in the religious edifices to usher in
the new year. Our observances of the
(lav, however, are not so picturesque
as are those of many other countries.
—__ sv
N'GLAND and Scotland have re
![.§7 tained many of their interest
ing customs of olden times,
this being especially true of Scotland.
Weeks before the New Year begins,
the village boys, with great secrecy,
meet in out-of-the-way places and re
hearse their favorite ballads. As the
time draws near they don improvised
masks and go about from house to
house singing and cutting many
quaint capers.
The thirty-first of December is
called "Hogmanay," and the children
are told that if they goto the cor
ner they will see a man with as many
eyes as the year has days. The chil
dren of the poorer classes go from
house to house in the better districts
with a large pocket fastened to their
dresses or a large shawl with a fold
in front. Each one receives an oaten
cake, a piece of cheese, or sometimes
a sweet cake, and goes home at night
with a good supply of homely New
Year cheer for the rest of the family.
The Scottish elders celebrate the
day with a supper party, and as the
clock "chaps" 12, friend greets friend
and wishes him "a gude New Year
and mony o' them." Then, with great
formality the door is unbarred to let
the Old Year out and the New Year
in, and all the guests sally forth into
the street to "first foot" their ac
quaintances.
In Edinburgh a great crowd gathers
around the church in Hunter square
and anxiously watches the clock.
There is absolute silence from the
first stroke of 12 until the last.
The f»>d folks now goto bed but
the young have other business on
hand. Each girl is expecting the "first
foot" from her sweetheart, and there
is much stratagem displayed in r-it
witting her occasionally, and havßg
some serving maid or grandmother
open the door to her lover.
The weather is carefully observed
at this season, for it is supposed to
betoken that which is to come. There
is a rhyme current in Scotland which
runs thus;
If New Year's eve the night wind blow
eth south
It betokeneth warmth and growth;
If west much milk, and flsh in the sea;
If east, the trees will bear much fruit;
If northeast, flee It, man and brute.
During the last century all work was
laid aside on the afternoon of the
thirty-first, and the men of the ham
let went to the woods and brought
home loads of juniper bushes. Each
household also procured a pitcher of
water from the "dead and living ford,"
meaning the ford in a river, by which
passengers and funerals crossed. This
was brought in perfect silence and
without being allowed to touch the
ground in its progress, as contact
with the earth would have destroyed
the charm.
The rites next morning were sup
posed to protect the household
against witchcraft, the "evil eye," and
other devilments. The father rose
•first, and taking the charmed water
and a brush, treated the rest of the
family to a vigorous baptism, which
was generally acknowledged with any
thing but gratitude.
Coming back, the thrifty Scotch
man closed all the doors and windows
and put the juniper bough on the fire.
When the smoke reached the suffocat
ing point, the fresh air was readmit
ted. Then the cattle were fumigated
in the same manner, and the painful
solemnities of the morning were over.
On New Year's day a superstitious
Scotchman will neither lend nor give
anything whatever out of his house,
for he fears that his luck may go too,
and for the same reason, the floor
must not be swept. If the fire goes
out it' is a sign of death.
j^3^^B©ZAß'S'Sl
Tm USSIANS have a very pretty
I ceremony. On each New
aRL Year's day a pile of sheaves
is heaped up over a large pile, and the
father, after seating himself behind
the pile, asks the children if they can
see him. Upon their replying that
they cannot, he says he hopes the
crops will be so fine the coming year
that he will be hidden in the fields.
The Russian New Year is 12 days
later than ours, and is a gala occa
sion for all. There is a grand cele
bration of mass in the morning, and
the rest of the day is devoted to con
gratulatory visits. Good wishes that
cannot be carried In this way are in
serted in the newspapers. In mili
tary and official circles ceremonial
visits art; paid.
The Kussians are great at fortune
telling, and on New Year's eve the un
married ladles and gentlemen send
servants into the street, or go out
themselves, to ask the names of per
sons they meet. These will be the
names of persons they will severally
marry, and many a bashful Russian
lover has speeded himself in his suit
by taking care to be the first man his
lady's servant met.
When midnight is reached, each
member of the family salutes the oth
er with a kiss, beginning with the
head of the house, and then retire,
after wishing each other a Happy
New Year.
81^^SS
I] HE hospitable Norwegians and
vi/ Swedes spread their tables
heavily for all who may come
in, and in Stockholm there is a grand
banquet in the Exchange, given to the
king and his family. On this occa
sion the monarch throws aside "the
divinity which doth hedge a king,"
and mingles with his people as citi
zen to citizen, in true democratic
fashion.
Danes greet the New Year with a
tremendous volley of cannon, and old
Copenhagen is shaken to its founda
tions at midnight. It is also consid
ered a delicate compliment to fire off a
gun or a pistol under the bedroom
window of one's friends at a very
early hour.
Dwellers in Cape Town, South Af
rica, are an exception to the general
run of English colonists. After the
custom of the early Dutch settlers,
they celebrate New Year for an en
tire week. Every house is full of vis
itors, every man, woman and child is
dressed in his best, and no one has
any business except to seek amuse
ment, which he does frantically. There
are picnics to Table mountain and
pleasure excursions in boats. There
is a dance every evening. At the end
of the week everybody settles down
to business, and the settlement is as
calm and well ordered as if it had
never heard of New Year.
P»"J
I\\ S EVERY one who has seen a
Chinese quarter in a large
city knows, "the heathen Chi
nee" celebrates the New Year in a
right royal fashion. In the mother
country the rejoicings absorb fully a
month, during the first part of which
there is not an empty mouth in the
empire.
But the refreshments are of a light
kind —peanuts, watermelon seeds,
sweetmeats, oranges, tea and typical
ly Chinese cakes. Presents of cakes
are given to the poor, and "brilliant
cakes," supposed to help the children
along with their studies, are distribu
ted from the temples.
At an early hour on the second of
February—their New Year's day—
they propitiate heaven and earth with
offerings of rice, vegetables, tea, wine,
oranges, and imitation paper money,
which they burn with incense, joss
sticks, and candles. Afterward they
worship their household gods and de
ceased ancestors and living relatives.
All this is carried out in the most sol
emn manner, and offerings are made
to everybody except the living.
Images of gods are carried in pro
cession to the beating of a deafening
gong, and mandarins go by hundreds
with congratulatory addresses to the
emperor. Their robes are gorgeously
embroidered and are heavy with gold.
Numerous amusements are provided
for the public, the chief of which are
acting, illuminations, and fireworks.
Uylj APAN'S New Year's day is the
twenty-ninth of January. By
this time all accounts have
been adjusted and all disputes settled.
Everybody puts on the regulation
dress —a sort of light blue cotton—
and starts out to visit relatives and
friends. The visiting lasts for three
days, and they send letters of con
gratulation, In stiff, set phrases, to
those in distant places.
They goto their favorite tea gar
dens, and there is a grand procession
in which all trades are represented.
Drums and stringed Instruments are
played by numerous bands, and wax
figures are sold by the thousand. They
amuse themselves with top spinning,
kite flying, jugglers, actors and fire
works, and the "ladles of quality"
please themselves with the "butterfly
dance."
Presents are offered of cooked ricc.
roasted peas, oranges, and figs. The
peas are scattered about the houses
to frighten away evil spirits, and on
THBL [NGINEEt
i
the fourth day of the New Year, the
decorations of lobster which signify
reproduction, cabbages which mean
riches, and oranges which mean good
luck, are taken down and replaced
with boughs of fruit trees and flowers.
This is to signify the near approach
of spring, when the "winter garment
of repentance" shall be thrown aside.
/lj S PREVIOUSLY arranged, the
Esquimaux go forth from their
snow huta or ice caves in
pairs, one of each pair being dressed
in women's clothes. They gain en
trance to every igloo in the village,
moving silently and mysteriously. At
last there is not a light left in the
whole place, and having extinguished
every spark of fire they can find, they
kindle a fresh one, going through mys
terious ceremonies meanwhile. From
this one source all lamps and fires in
the district are lighted anew.
In the Indian empire, the day which
corresponds to other New Year cele
brations, is called Hooly, and is a
feast in honor of Krishna. Caste tem
porarily loses caste and the prevailing
hue is red. Every one who can afford
it wears red garments. They throw
red powder at one another, and mix
it with water and squirt it from syr
inges on passers-by. This is taken in
as good part as snow-balling is in
northern climes.
Complimentary visits between the
merest acquaintances are exchanged
in Germany, and New Year's gifts are
made to the servants. The eve of the
New Year is called "der Sylvester
Abend," and while it Is deemed not un
becoming for the young and thoughtless
to while away the evening by dancing,
the day in more serious households
takes on a semi-religious aspect. Dur
ing the evening there is prayer at the
family altar, and at midnight the
watchman on the church tower blows
his horn to announce the birth of the
New Year.
The "Jour de l'An" Is a great period
almost all over France, and many of
the customs common with us at
Christmastide are transferred to New
Year. In many parts of that country
masquerading by children continues
for three days, the youngsters going
from house to house, singing and beg
ging for small presents.
DEATH OF THE OLD YEAR.
By CHARLOTTE BEAUMONT JARVI3.
Miserere! toll the bell.
Let the earth send forth a knell,
For a great soul takes his flight.
None knows whither, in the night-
Miserere!
Stretched upon his snowy bier,
Dying lies the good Old Year;
And upon the midnight gale
AH may hear his parting wail-
Miserere!
In the old king's chequered reign
There were mingled joy and pain;
Friends proved false, while foes were
true,
Sinners many, saints—a few-
Miserere!
There were hearts that suffered wrong,
Bora it bravely, and were strong;
Hearts there were, so black within,
Satan wondered at their sin—
Miserere!
Garners full of fruitful store,
Measures pressed, and running o'er;
Famine in the streets at night.
Doing deeds too dark for light—
Miserere!
Rang the church bells for the wed,
Tolled they also for the dead;
In one home a Joy was born,
From another joy was torn-
Miserere!
Such earth's sorrow, such its sin.
All must end where they begin;
Snow which wraps the New Year's feet
Is the Old Year's winding sheet-
Miserere!
Now his spirit goeth faut.
Midnight hour will be his last;
To your knees, earth's worn and weary—
Miserere! Missrero!
By DANIEL W. GALLAGHER
HNDER the old earth's outer crust —
'Mid bed-rock fragments and lava
Watching the axis turning slow,
The Old Year stood at his dynamo
In the power plant which time maintains,
And numbered losses and figured gains.
"I've done quite well," said the aged seer—
"My record's good as an engineer,
I've kept things humming, above—below.
I oiks can't complain that I've been slow,
And now I'm off when midnight calls —"
Then he started doffing his overalls.
He washed his face and brushed his hair —
Then leaned far back in his arm-chair
In pensive mood till a sturdy chap
Clambered up to the old man's lap.
And said: "Old Year —they tell me you
Are sorter thinking of getting through."
"Right you are," cried the aged man.
"Your tarsk awaits you, little Jan.
Get into your duds and start right in,
I will wait right here until you begin,
For I wish to see if I rightly guess,
Which of the levers you first will press."
Then Jan marched up to the dynamo.
He passed the levers of "Want" and
"Woe"—
Nor touched the levers of "War" or
"Fame"—
Stopping the while to read each name:
Then a handle grasped as he turned togo,
The Old Year's face seemed all aglow.
So when the dawn of that day began
Man thought of his stricken brother man.
With ready help and an honest tear.
For them that knew no glad New Year.
'Twas the lever of Love in the midst of
gloom —
That Jan had gripped in the engine-room >
112 Thoughts for ?
I the Ne<w Year I
|★ ★ ?
| We sleep, but the loom of 1
jy life never stops, and the pattern \
5 which was weaving when the 9
X sun went down is weaving J
I when it comes up in the morn- 112
e ing.— ll. IV. Beecher. t
| We are not in this world 112
# to do what we wish, but to be I
I willing to do that which it is 1
c our duty to do. — Gounod. &
1 It is the every days that J
112 count. They must >e made to #
I tell, or the years hav failed. — t
5 IV. C. Gannett. < '
X Soberly and with clear eyes
I believe in your own time and
£ place. There is not, there < |
1 never has been, a better time
J or a better place to live in. ,
1 Only with this belief can you .
? believe in hope. Phillips ?
X Brooks.
I We may make the best oft
C life, or we may make the worst
T of it, and it depends very much |
I upon ourselves whether we ex- 1
L tract joy or misery from it. — 1
' > St/tiles. y
; The darkest shadows of life I
are those which a man himself i
I I makes when he stands in his <L
1 * own light.— Lord Ave bury. *
Our life is short, but to ex
pand that span to vast eternity < |
• > is virtue's work. — Shakespeare.
The hour that is gone I j
cannot recall, but to-morrow I i <
iwill do better than yesterday; < •
and ail to-morrows shall be bet
ter than the yesterdays. Let !
us "leave behind our low-vault- < |
ed past." — Dyer.
Life is fruitful in the ratio in 1
which it is laid out in noble I
action or patient perseverance.
—Liddon. 1
THE NEW YEAR'S CHOICE
It is Well to Choose Wisely for the
Time That Is to
Come.
Once, long ago, the Lord appeared
in a vision of the night to a young
man with the offer, "Ask what I shall
give thee." And a decisive moment
was that in which the young king
weighed against all others the thing
which he most desired.
Centuries lie between us and the
young king, Solomon, but still—and
especially on each recurring New
Year's —God appears to each of us
with practically the same offer, "Ask
what I shall give thee." And, as with
Solomon, so with every heart, there
lies the choice of the gift. Were the
question an audible one, what would
your answer be?
Each recurring New Year's, in ef
fect, says:"Ask what I shall give
thee." And the choice for the coming
year may be our choice for all the
years of life. It is by choice that men
seek wealth and learning and by influ
ence. And it is not a question of thi«
and that, but of this or that. To
choose is to decide between, to leave
las well as to take. Therefore, what
| will be our choice for the year befora
j us? God Himself asku the question,
I makes the orfer.
Christmas Fairies.
An old English tradition has it that
at Christmas-tide, elves and fairies
may mingle with humankind Ln the
festivities, and the holly, bay and ivy
are hung that the fays ma}' find hid
ing places. They are also hung to af
ford a refuge to th« woodland sprites
who, at this season, are lialf-lio.:>.'ii
in the forests