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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (Dec. 20, 1908)
TITE SUNDAY OKEGOXIAX, PORTLAND, DECEMBER 2X 1908. gagBoCT - Omar WmmjMiMMml Silver Hen and the Wonderful ChristmasTrees DAM!-; DOROTHEA PEN NT kept a pr.vite- school. It was quite & small sehool on accourt of the size (if her houi.e. She had only 12 .,ol.irs and they filled It quite full; indeed, one very iitlb boy had to sit la the hricl oven. On this account Dame Penny wan obliged to do all her cooking on a Saturday, when school did not keep. It was on a Thursday that Dame Fenny first missed her 'silver lien, whose feathers looked exactly as If they had been dipped In liquid silver. TvYhan the scholars assembled she called the school to order and told them of Willi fruit by tha next Christmas day. Every ' Lliristmas day they were cut down and sold, but they always grew acnn to their full height in a year's time. These trees, when lti full fruitage, were festouiied with strings of popcorn, and weighed down with apples and oranfes and tim and buns of candy, and It was really an amazing sight to see them out there in Dame Louisa's front yard. But now they were all yellow and dead, and not so much as one popcorn whitened the upper branches, neither was there one candle shining out In the night. Dame Louisa looked at her dead Christmas trees and scowled. She could fee the children out In the road, and they were trudging along In the direction of the "White Woods. "Let em go." (The screamed and looked for tile owner of It. He loomed up among some bushes at their right. He was dazzling white It was the real Snow Man. They knew him In a moment; he looked so much like his effigies that they used to make In their yards. "We don't keep any bens," repeated the Snow Man. "What are you calling hens for In this forest?" The children huddled together as clos? as they could, and the oldest boy ex plained. "Well," said the Snow Man, "I haven't seen the silver hen. I never did see any hens In these woods, but she may be around here for all that. You had better go home with me and spend the night. V,- -'V.-?'' r, 4 Cbhtl axiio. TJt i ,watt! Jher terrible loss. All the scholars crookfil their arms over thrl- faces and wept, for they were very fond of Dame Fenny, nnd also of the silver hen. Every one of them wore one of her liver tail feathers In the best bonnet or hat, as the case might be. Dame Fenny had presented them from time to time as rewards for good behavior. ' After Dame Penny had told the school, she dismissed It. and rave her rmplls permission to search for the silver hen. She offered the successful one the most beautiful present lie had ever seen. It was about three weeks before Christmas. The children searched with no suc cess till the day before Christmas. Then tl.ey thought they would ask Fame Ixniisa. who had the refutation of being quite a wise woman and lived next door. If she knew of any more likely places In which they could hunt The 1 2 scholars walked two by two up to Dame Louisa's front door and knocked. They were very quiet and spoke only in whispers, because they knew Damo Iulsa, was nervous, and did not like children very well. But in spite of their efforts to be quiet they awoke her from a nap, and she came to the door very much out of humor. "I don't know where you'll find the ;ien." said she peevishly, "unless you go to the White Woods for It." "Thank you. ma'am." said the chil dren with curtseys, and they all turned lend went down the path between the dead Christmas trees. Dame Louisa had no Idea that they would no to tho White Woods. She iiad said it quite at random, although lane was so vexed at being disturbed in .er napathat she wished for a moment ft hat they would. She stood In her ;front door and looked at her dead iChrlstmas trees, and that always made itier feel crosser, and she had not at any lime a pleasant disposition. Indeed. It iwaa rumored among the townspeople Lthat that had blasted her Cnristmas trees, that Dame Ixiuisa's scolding, .-fretting- voice had floated out to them end smote their delicate twigs like a Utter frost and made them turn yel Ilow; for the real Christmas tree la .not very hardy. i No one els in the village ot tied any tuch tree, alive or dead. Daioe Louisa's ;hulAnd. who had been a sea captain, ;jid brought them from foreign parts. JThey were mere little twigs when they jilanted them on the ft rat day of January, 'but they were full-grown and loaded snapped to herself. "I guess they won't go far. I'll be r.ld of their noise, any way." She could hear poor Dame Penny's distressed voice out In her yard, calling "Biddy, Biddy. Biddy." .and she scowled n-ore fiercely than ever. "I'm glad she'e lost her old sliver hen," she muttered to herself. She had always suspected the sliver hen of pecking at the roots of the Christmas trees, and so causing them to blast. Dame Louisa had a very wise book, which she had consulted to find the rea son for the death of her Chrkstmas trees, but all she could find In it waa one short item, which did not satisfy her at alL "Christmas trees Very delicate when transplanted, especially sensitive and lia ble to blast at any change In the moral atmosphere. Remedy: Discover and confess the cause." After reading this. Dame Louisa was always positive that Dame Penny's sil ver hen was at the' root of the mischief, for she knew that she herself akad never done anything to hurt the trees. Dame Penny waa so occupied in call ing "Biddy. Biddy, Biddy," that she never noticed the children taking the road toward the White Woods. If she had done so, she would have stopped them, for the White Woods was con sidered a dangerous place. It was called white because it was always white, even In midsummer. The trees and bushes and all the undergrowth every flower and blade of grass were white with snow and frost all the year round. Nobody had penetrated very fur Into the White Woods, although many expeditions had been organlxed for that uprpose. The cold was so terrible that ft drove them back. The children had heard all about the terrors of the White Woods. When they drew near It, they took hold of one an other's hands and snuggled as closely to gether .as possible. When they struck Into the path at the entrance, the In tense cold turned their cheeks and noses blue In a moment, but they kept on. call ing "Biddy. Biddy, Biddy," In their shrll' sweet trebles. It was quite late In the afternoon when they started, and pretty soon the sun went down and the moon arose, and that made It seem colder. It was like trav eling through a forest of solid silver then. About two hours after the moon arose, as they were creeping along. . singular, hoarse voice replied suddenly "We don't keep any hens," said the voice, and all the children jttqiped and f (aive me back ray companyiioated the .snow man My wife will be delighted to see you. We have never had any company in our lives, and she Is always scolding about It." The children looked at one another and shook harder then they had done with cold. With that the Snow Man gelled the right ear of the oldest boy between a finger and thumb and danced him along, and all the rest, trembling and whimper ing under their breath, followed. It was not long before they reached the Snow Man's house, a castle built of blocks of ice fitted together like bricks, and with two. splendid snow lions keeping guard at the entrance. The Snow Man's wife stood In the door, and the Snow Children stood behind her and peeped around her skirts. "We have some company, wife," shouted the Snow Man. "Bring them right in," said his wlfo, with a beaming face. She was very handsome, and wore a trailing white robe, like a Queen. She kissed the children all around, and shivers crept down their backs, for it was like being kissed by an Icicle. "Now," said the Snow Man's wife, "come right in and sit down where it is cool you look very hot." "Hot!" when the poor scholars were quUe stiff with cold! They looked at one another In dismay, but did not dare say anything. They followed the Snow Man's wife into her grand parlor. "Come right over here by the north window, where It is cooler," siild she. "and the children shall brinff you some fans." The tioor children, fanning them selves, on an Ice divan, wobld certainly have frozen if the Snow Man's wife had not suggested that they all have a little iraine of "nuss-in-the-corner to wnne away the time before dinner. That warmed them up a little, but the Snow Man's wife siODued the play a little oe fore dinner was announced: she said the guests looked so warm that siie waa alarmed and was afraid they might melt. A whistle, that sounded just like the whistle of the north wind in the chim ney, blew for dinner, and Dame Penny's scholars thought with delight that now they would have something warm. But every dish on the Snow Man's table was cold and frozen, and the Snow Man s wife kept urging them to eat this and that, because it was so nice and cool ing, and they looked so warm. After dinner they were colder than ever, and they were glad wnen tne Snow Man's wife suggested that they go to bed, for they had visions or warm blankets and comfortables. But wnen they were shown Into the great north chamber, with Its walls of solid ice, its Ice floor and its Ice beds, their hearts sank. Not a blanket nor comfortable was to be seen; there were great silk bags stuffed with snowflakes Instead of feathers on tha beds, and that was 11. They were frantic with cold and ter ror, and the little ones began to cry. Thev talked over the situation and agreed that they had better wait until the house was quiet and then run away. So they waited until they thought everybody must be asleep, and then cautiously stole toward the door. It was locked fast on the outside. The Snow Man's wife had slipped an Icicle through the latch. It seemed as If they must freer.e to death before morning. But it occurred to some of the older ones that they had beard their parents say that snow was really warm, and people had been kept warm and alive by burrowing; un der snowdrifts. And as there were enough snowflake beds to use for cover lids also, they crept under them and were soon, quite comfortable. In the meantime there was a great panic in the village; the children's par ents were nearly wild. They came run ning to Dame Penny, hut she was call ing "Biddy, Biddy. Biddy," out In the moonlight, and knew nothing about them. Then they called outside Dame Louisa's window, hut she pretended to be asleep and not hear them, although she was really awake and in a terrible panic. She did not tell the parents how the children had gone to the White Woods, because she knew that they could not extricate them from the difficulty as well as she could herself. She knew all about the Snow Man and his wife and how very anxious they were to have company. t So Just as soon as the parents were gone she dressed herself, harnessed her old white horse Into the great box sleigh, got out all the tubs and pails that she had In the house and went over to Dame Penny, , who was still standing out in her front yard calling the silver hen and the children by turns. "Come, Dame Penny," said Dame Louisa. "I want you to go with me to the White Woods and rescue the chil dren. Bring out all the'tubs and pails you have in the house, and we will pump them full of water." ' The palls full of water what for?" gasped Dume Penny. "To thaw them out." replied Dame Louisa. "They will very likely e wholly or partly frozen, and I have al ways heard that cold water was the only remedy to use." Dame Penny said no more. Site brought out all her tubs and pails, and they pumped them, and Dame Louisa's full of water, and packed them Into the sleigh there were 12 of them. Then they climbed into the seat, slapped the reins over the hack of the old white horse and started oft for the White Woods. . On the way Dame Louisa wept and confessed what she had done to Dame Penny. "I have been a cross, selfish, old woman," said she, "and I think that Is velocity. Dame Louisa whipped up the i "Oh! what is that twinkling out In the horse, but the Snow Man gained on them, j yard?" cried the children. "Oh!" shrieked Dame Penny, "what shall They could all see little fairy-like we do. what shall we do?" I lights twinkling out in Dante luisa's "Be quiet," said Dame Louisa. She untied her large poke bonnet, which was made of straw she was unable to have a velvet one for Winter, now her Christ mas trees were dead and she hung it on the whip. Then she drew a mutch from her pocket, and set fire to the bon net. The light labile blazed up directly, anil the Snow Man stopped short. "If you come any nearer," shrieked D;iin Louisa, "I'll put this right in your lace and -melt you !" "Give me back my company," shouted the Snow Man. "You can't have your company." said Dame Louisa, shaking the blazing bonnet defiantly at him. "To think of the days I've spent in their wards, slowly melting and suffering everything, and my not having one visit back," grumbled the Snow Man. But he stood still; he never took a step forward yard. "It looks Just as the Chrislinas trees used to," aid Dume Penny. i "oh! 1 can't believe It." cried Dame Louisa, her heart heating wildly. But when they came opposite I lie yard, they saw that It was true. Dame oLuisa's Christmas trees stood there all twinkling with lights, and covered with trailing gar lands of pop-corn, or.-mivs. apples and candy hags; their . yellow branches had turned green and t lie Christmas trees were in full glory. "Oh! what is that shining so out In Dame Penny's yard?"' cried the children, who were entirely Thawed, und only need ed to gel heme to their parents and have some warm breakfast, ant" Christmas presents, to lie quite themselves. "Bid dy, Biddy. Biddy." cried Dame Penny. It was. indeed, the silver hen, and fol lowing her were VI little silver chickens. I t . L-J UT.W I LpiWLil " FBtOtwn ROOT WITH MILK MtO MOITBT. I witt. inss rotia looor emit. the rposon why my Christmas trees were blasted." Dame Louisa drove straight to the Snow Man's nous?, where she left Dame Penny to bold the horses, and went in; the outer door was not loiiced. When she came to the door with the icicle through tlie latch she knew at once that the children were In that room, so she drew out the icicle and entered. The children were asleep, but she aroused them, and they got out of the house without disturbing any of the family; but, once out, a new difficulty beset them. The children had been so nearly warm under their snowfiake bds that they began to freeze the minute the Icy air struck them. . But Dame Louisa promptly seized them and put them into the tubs and pails of water. Then they started off for home at full speed. But It was not long before they discov ered that they were pursued. They heard the hoarse voice of the Snow Man behind them calling to them to stop. "What are you taking away my corn- many lor? shouted the Snow Man. "Stop, stop!" The wind was at the back of the Snow Man, and he came with tremendous after Dame Louisa had set her bonnet on lire. "Do you feel as it you were thawing?" Darne Louisa asked the children, after they had left the Snow Man behind. "Yes, ma'am," said they. Dame Louisa drove as fast as could, with thankful tears running down her cheeks. "I've been a wickeil, cross old woman," said she again and again, "and that Is what blasted my Christmas trees." It was the dawn of Christmas Day when they came in sjght of Dame Louisa's house. they saw that it was true. Dnme Louisa's barn and nobody had known It until she appeared on Christmas morning witli her brood of silver chickens. "T'.very scholar shall have one of the silver chickens for a Christmas present." said Dame Puny. "And each shall have one of my Christ mas trees." said Dame Louisa. Then all the scholars cried out with delight, the Christmas bells In the vil lage began to ring, the sun shone broad ly out and it was a merry Christmas Day." (Copyright. 1SSS. D. Lothrop & Co.) 'isT '-V"Tl &tM-- ggq-ay-sg- -i Most Expensive Tree on Earth SANTA, must I teas In vain, dear? tet m go and hold the reindeer. While you elamber flown ths chimneys. Don't look savage as a Turk! Why should you have all the glory the Joyous Christmas story. And poor little Goody Santa Claus have nothing but the work? It would b so very cozy, you and I. all round and rosy. Looking like two loving snowballs In our fuw Arctic fun. Tucked In warm and snug together, whisking through ths j- Winter weather. Where the tinkle of th slelghbells Is the only sound that stirs. Tou Jcit sit here anB grow chubby off ths goodies In my cubby From December to December, till your white beard sweeps your knees; 7or you must allow, my goodman, that you're but a laxy wood man And roly on me to foster all our fruitful Christmas Tress. While your Salntihlp waxes holy, year by year, and roly-poly. Blessed by all the lads and lassies In the limits of th land. While your toes at home you're toasting, then poor Goody mull go posting Out to plant and prune and garden, whsre our flr-tree forests stand. Oh! but when the toll Is sorest how I love our fir-tree forest. Heart of light and heart of beauty In tha Northland cold and dim. And with gifts and candles laden to delight a boy or maiden, And Its dark green branches ever murmuring the Christmas hymn! Yet ask Jack Frost, our neighbor, who but Goody has the labor. Feeding roots with milk and' honey that the bonbons may be aweett Who but Goody knows the reason why the playthings bloom In season From the time the dollies budded, wiry-boned and sawdust-, blooded. With their wsxen eyelids winking when the wind the tree tops piled. And the ripening toys and "trinkets rattle gaily to her feet! Have I rested for a minute, until now your pack has 1n It All the bright, abundant harvest of the merry Christmastime? Santa, wouldn't It be pleasant to surprise me with a present? And this ride behind the reindeer Is the gift your Goody bevs; Think how hard my extra work la. tending the Thanksgiving turkeys And our flock of rainbow chickens those that lay the Easter eggs. Home to womankind is suited f ' Nonsense, Goodman 1 Let our fruited . Orchards answer for the value' of a woman out-of-doors. Why then bid me cease the thunder, while tho roof you're safely under. All to fashion firecrackers with the lightning In their course? Eee! I've fetched my snowAake bonnet, with the sunrise ribbons on it; I've not worn It since we fled from Fairyland our wedding day; Hjw we sped through Iceberg porches with the Northern Lights for torches! Tou were young and slender. Santa, and we had this very - sleigh. Jump In quick, th-snl Thafs my bonny. Hey down derry; nonny nonny! , While I tie your fur cap closer, 1-wltl kiss your ruddy chin. I'm so pleased I fall to singing Just as lelgh-bellt take to ringing! Are the cloud.-spua laprobes ready? TIrra-llrral tuck me in. Oft across the starlight Norland, where no plant adorns the moorland. Save the ruby-berried holly and the frolic mistletoe! Oh I but this Is Christmas revel. Off across the frosted level Where the reindeer's hoofs strike sparks from tha crispy, crackling snow I There's the Man 1' the Mooa before ua, bound "to lead the Christmas chorus With the muslo of the sky-waves rippling round his sliver shell Glimmering boat that leans and tarries with the weight of dreams she carries To tbe cots of happy children. Gentle sailor, steer her well! Now we pass through dusky portals to the drowsy land of mortals; tSnow-enfnlded, silent cities etretch about us dim and far. Oh! how sound the world Is sleeping, midnight watch no shep herd keeping. Though an angel-face shines gladly down from every golden star. Here's a roof. I'll hold the reindeer. I suppose this woather vane dear. Some one set here Just on purpose for our team to fasten to. There's Its gilded cock the gaby! wants to crow and tell the baby " ' - , We are come. Be careful, 8antal Don't get smothered In the fire. Back so soon? No chimney-swallow dives but where his mate can follow. Bend your cold ear, Sweetheart Santa, down to catch my whisper faint; Would It be so very shocking if! your Goody filled a stocking Just for ones? Oh, dear! Fornlve me. Frowns do not become a Saint. I will peef' In at the skylight, where the moon sheds tender twilights Equally down silken chambers and down attics bare and bleak. Let me shower with hailstone candies these two dreaming boys the dandles In their frilled and fluted nighties, rosy cheek to rosy cheek. What! . No gift for this poor garret? Take a sunset sash and wear It O'er the rags, my pale-faced lassie, till thy father smiles again. He's a poet, but oh. cruel! he has neither light nor fuel. Here's a fallen star to write by, and a muslo-box of rain. So our sprightly reindeer clamber, with their fairy sleigh of amber. On from roof to roof, the woven shades of night about us drawn. On from roof to roof we twinkle, all the silver bells a-tlnkle. Till blooms In yonder blessed East the rose of Christmas dawn.' Now the pack Is fairly rifled, and poor Santa's well-night stifled; Yet you would not let your Goody All a single baby-sock; Yes, I know the task takes brain, dear.. I can only hold the reindeer. And to see me climb down the chimney It would give your nerves a shock. Wait! There's yet a tiny fellow, smiling Hps and curls so yellow You would think a truant sunbeam played In them all night. He spins Giant tops and flies kites higher than the gold cathedral eplre In hie dreams the orphan bairnle, trustful little Tatterkina. Santa, don't pass by the urchlnt Shake the pack and deeply search In ' All your pockets. There Is always one toy more. I told you so. Up' again? Why, wbat'a the trouble? On your eyelash winks the bubble Mortals call a tear, I fancy. Holes in stockings, heel and toe? Goodman, though your speech Is crusty now and then, there's nothing rusty s ln your tieart. A child's least sorrow makis your wet eyes glisten, too; But I'll mend that sock so neatly1 It shall hold your gifts com pletely. Take the reins and let me show you what a woman's wit can do. Puff! I'm up again, my deary, flushed a bit and somewhat weary, With my wedding snowflake bonnet worse for many a sooty knock: But be glad you let me wheedle, since,, an icicle for needle. Threaded with tha last pale moonbeam, I have darned the laddie's sock. v ' Then I tucked a paint-box In It Ctwas no easy task to win it I From the Artist of the Autumn Leaves) and frost-fruits white and sweet, With the toys your pocket misses oh! and kisses upon kisses To cherish safe from evil paths "the motherless small feet. Chirrup! Chirrup! There's a patter of soft footsteps snd a clatter Of child voices. Speed It, reindeer, up the sparkling Arctlo Hill ' Merry Christmas, little people! Joy-bells ring in every steeple. And Goody's gladdest of the glad. I've had my own sweet will. (Copyright, 1908, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.) THERE is a tree in Cheapslde, Lon don, that may be described literally as the most expensive of Its kind on earth. If gold pieces filled the en tire trunk and $5 bills fluttered In place of every one of the leaves, it would not buy the terra finna it occupies. For tho land on which It stands, the northwest comer of Wood street and Cheapside, Is worth KaOO.000 an acre. The tree has stood on this spot for more than 2ifl years, while its site has augmented In value to almost fabulous proportions. There have been several hard-fought lawsuits over this plot of ground, the contests having been carried even to the House of Lords; but. so far, the lawyers never have been able to break through the phalanx of legal enactments which preserve the tree. In the first place, there Is a law In England which prohblts build ers from putting up a structure which shall keep out the light from windows w hlch bear the mysterious words, "An cient Lights." This tree in Cheapside is literally surrounded by a number of "An cient Lights" proprietors, w?iose consent never has been obtained when it came to cutting down the tree and putting a modern structure on Its site. For the same reason, the storekeeper who rents the tiny two-story structure on the corner Just in front of the tree never has been able' to put his building up beyond its present height. Some years ago one builder, who thought himself more "cute" than the others, started to take the law Into his own hands and put tip a build ing, thinking to "arrange" with the own ers of the "Ancient Lights" afterward. But he was met with a perfect shower of Injunctions, proceedings, writs and In dictments, more than would have cov ered the tree In "its full Spring bloom, and It Is said he never has been able to pay tho thousands of dollars of law costs which his little experiment resulted In. A few years ago some gardeners were ordered to lop off certain limbs of the tree which hung over Cheapside. It was done really to save tiie life of the tree, and with tho consent of the parish clerk and church wardens of St. Peter's, Cheapside, the ancient little Norman church in Foster Lane, nearby, who guard this tree from the vandals' clutches. When the men began to work on tho tree, however, it created a big sensation in Cheapside. "They are chop pins down our tree," went up from a thousand angry throats In the district. Policemen were called and doubtless there would have been another shower of writs. Injunctions and proceedings had not the minister of the parish explained the real reason for the pruning operations. Another almost impassable barrier which protects the treo in its position is tho fact that It grows in sacred ground. There is a law in London that no building can be erected on sacred ground without special act of Parliament, and woe betide the unhappy man who dares to put up even a shanty within the precincts of a graveyard in England. Tills particular corner of Cheapside has been Immortalized by Wordsworth: "At the coiner of Wood street when day light appears, There's a thrush that sings loud; It has sung for three years." This bird was wont to perch In the now famous tree and lt'attracted the. attention of Wordsworth, who used to breakfast In a little shop nearby. As far back as the year K'92 just a hundred years before Mr. Columbus discovered America another tree stood in this graveyard, and Is spok'en of by Chaucer: "That whosoever ploynes It away He shall have Chrystts' curse for aye." This tree, therefore. Is a direct descend ant of perhaps the oldest tree on record In England, and It may almost be de- scribed as an English Institution. This particular corner of Cheapside Is hack of the general postofflce. Star. Ok W J IS D - BfV - ft)? J Pi " I (THE Christmas chimes ate Dtling nigh X Beneath the solema Christmas tlevt And Blowing winds their notes prolong Like echoes from as angel's song ; Goodwill and peace, peace and good will Ring oat the carcls glad and gay. Telling the heavenly message still, That Christ the Child was bora ta-dm In lowly hut and palace -hall Peasant and king keep festival. And csildhood wear a falser gu&e And tenderer shine ail jaotDeibcyest The aged oiaa forgets bit years. The mirthful heart is doubly gajv The sad are cheated of Actr tears. For Christ lee Lord waa born todajg 1 - If ml iJlllllllff EfrOWWSKT, lyoa. Br LOTHROP, LIE a, antPAWb co:1ar
