THE CHRISTMAS STOCKING.
i N .ae ghostly light I'm
sluing musing ui
long dead Decem
bers, While the flre-clnd
NlinncH are fitting In
and out among the
embers
I Ou my hearthstone In
mad races, anu .1
marvel, for In seem
ing can dimly see the
faces and the scenes
of which I'm dreaming.
irolden Christmas
uays of yore!
In sweet anticipa
tion I lived their Joys for
davs before
Their glorious realization;
And on the dawu
Of Christinas morn .
My childish heart was Knocking
A wild tattoo.
As 'twould break through.
As I unhung my stocking.
Each simple gift that came to hand,
How marvelous 1 thought It!
A treasure straight from Wouderlaud,
For Sun I a Clans had brought It.
And at my cries
Of giad surprise
The others all came flocking
To share my glee
Aud view with me "
The contents of the stotuing.
Years sped I left each well-loved scene
In Northern wilds to roam,
And there, 'mid tossing pine trees green,
I made myself a home.
We numbered three
And blithe were we,
At adverse fortune mocking.
And Chrlstmastlde
By our fireside '
Found hung the baby's stocking.
Alas! within our home to-night
No sweet youug voice Is ringing.
And through Its silent rooms no light.
Free, childish step Is springing.
The wild winds rave
O'er baby's grave
Where plumy pines are rocking.
And crossed at rest
Oji marble breast
The hand! that tilled my stocking.
With misty eyes hut stondv hand
I raise my Christmas chalice:
Here's to the children of the laud
In cabin or in palace:
May each one hold
The key of gold
The gates of glee unlocking,
And hands be found
The whale world round
To All the Christmas stocking.
Ladles' Home Journal.
I 1 Sp.lllffiffi.il
KIP
iTjatfX
UNCLE JEWRY'S $
' ' CHRISTMAS, n
NCLE JiiRRV
I Foster was too stin
gy to live, and every
body knew it. But
everybody didn't
'ill' know how noor
Aunt Betsey, his
ad to manage
contrive and
skimp to get along.
She never had the
handling of any
money. Even the
butter and egg mon
ey, that most every farmer's wife has for
her own use, all went into Uncle Jerry s
pockets; and if she wanted a new gown
or a bonnet or a pair o' shoes I. hadn't
erter say if she wanted 'em, but if she
must have 'em, and there wa'u't no possi
ble airthly way for him to skin out o' get
tin' 'em then Uncle Jerry would go to
the store with her and buy 'em and pay
for 'em, jest as if she was a child or an
. ijiot, and incapable .o' dewin' business ou
her own hook.
If Auut Betsey hadn't had the best-disposition
in the world, she wouldn't stood
It all them years. As it was, it wore on
her, and told on her fearful. Though
Uncle Jerry wns one o' the richest men in
town, she might 'a' been the wife o' the
poorest and miser'blest, so fur's any out
ward' indication was conssrned or in
ward indications, either for she was al
wers half starved, and wa'nt nothin' but
skin and bones, as you might say.
Uncle Jerry grew wuss V wuss, and
come along towards Christmas he got a
bran'-new crochet fer savin' into his head.
It was at family devotion one mornin',
jest before the rendin', that he divulgated
It to his wife. He finds the place in Ne
hemiar he alwers read the long chapters
In fall and winter and puts his thura' in
to keep it, then, drawin' on a long face,
he looks at Aunt Betsey over his spe'ta
cles, and-says he:
"Wife, I are of a notion that this 'ere
Christnias business is all foolishness!
Seems if it must be a sin in the sight o'
the Lord to eat so much one day in the
year. 'I don't believe it's necessary to
make pigs V gluttons of ourselves in
order to have thankful hearts; and if we
go to meetin', and so on, why ain't that
enough? I reckon we'll sell the turkey
this year and have our usual dinner,
'long's ..'there ain't no children eomin'
home, nor nothin'."
Aunt Betsey set there with her bands
In her lap, not exactly thinkin', but kinder
wonderin'.and grievin'. And when. they
kneeled down to pray she kept on wonder
In' more'a ever. She wondered what
she had to be thankful for, anyway.
."Now, if Ellen could come home!" Ellen
was their daughter, all the child they had
in the world, and she lived so far away
that she couldn't afford to come home
and bring the children bein' she was a
wldder and poor but, oh, how her mother
.did wanter see her! "What did she care
about turkey and plum puddin' if Ellen
and the children couldn't eat it with her?
Yes, the money might as well be put in
OLD FATHER TIME RECEIVES THE NEW YEAR.
"YM!R WIFE IS A VERY SICK WOMAN.
theTJank; she didn't care." Sa she
thought on and on, not hardly sensin,' the
prajtr;a mite.
She went out to her work in the kitch
en feelin' all broke up. She didn't -know
w-hyshe-should be, 'less she'd, been. kind
er secretly hopin' to have Ellen arid the
children, Christmas was more than she
CHRISTMAS MUSINGS.
could bear. There wa'n't nothin' to her,
no time, as you might say, and this was
the last straw on Ahe camel's back. 'T
any rate, all to once she give out and had
to go ter bed. The next mornin' she
couldn't get up, but Uncle Jerry didn't
think much about it, s'posed she'd be up
bimeby; but when he come in to dinner,
there lay his wife jest the same, as if
sb? hadn't no thoughts o' gettin' up.
He didn't know what under the sun to
do, but he knew he must do somethin', so
he het a brick and put to her feet, and
was jest making a mustard plaster to
put on her somewheres when Mis' Hop
kins happened in.
She see how it wns with Aunt Betsey
in a minute. She's awful cute about some
things, Mis' Hopkins is, and she ain't
afraid o' no man livin'. 1
"Uncle Jerry," snys she, matter of fact
as you please, "your wife's a very sick
UNCLE JERRY SET PAt.K AS A STATU.
woman, and she's goiu' to die right off,
I'm afraid, 'less we hyper round and do
somethin', and do it quick. But fust I'd
better step over 'n' fetch the doctor."
Uncle Jerry was wonderful took down.
All of a sudden he realized that his wife
was invalooable to him: he felt that he
could not get along without her, nohow.
He was as anxious to have the doctor as
Mis' Hopkins was, and told her to hurry
and bring him. ,
So she went he lived near by and she
says to him:
"Doctor Cross, now . is your chance to
do a deed o' humanity, and put a spoke
in Uncle Jerry Foster's wheel for all
time! If he's got any heart and feelin's
you must find 'em and work on to 'em for
his wife's sake. It would be cruel to
bring her back to life, 'less you can do
somethin' to make .that life endoorable.
Don't, I beg on ye, raise her up to live on
in the same old skimpy miser'ble way!
Better let her die and done with it."
They discussed and considered over the
matter for a few minutes, then weut to
gether to the house.
They found Aunt Betsey layin' jist the
same only she stopped cryin'. The doctor
examined her and diaggernosed her case
as well as he could, then he motioned Un
cle Jerry out into the other room and shet
the door behind him.
It seems the doctor took him awful
solium and in dead earnest, and says he,
to begin with:
"Uncle Jerry, do you set high rally on
your wife's life?"
"High vally on my .wife's life?" says
Uncle Jerry, red in tie face." "Of course
I dew. What you talkin' about?"
"I was here when you fetched her home
a bride. I remember how handsome she
was; plump as a pa'tridge, fresh as a
flower, and as laughin' and chipper a girl
as I 'bout ever see. Changed, terribly
changed, ain't she?" turnin' to Uncle Jer
ry and feelin' in his pocket fer his han'
k'chif to wipe away the tears. ."It does
beat all how she's changed," says he.
"Changed!" says Uncle Jerry, 11 of a
fluster, "of course she's changed! Why,
we've been married goin' on 25 year! You
can't expect a woman to stay 18 all her
life!"
"I know that farmers' wives grow old
pretty fast as a gineral thing; break down
young, don't they? But, Uncle Jerry,"
squarin'" round on him suddenly and look
in' him in the eye, "I want to ask you to
compare your wife's 'looks with the looks
of other women of her age in town, no
handsomer, no -healthier than what she
was when you- married her, and tell me if
you think there's a difference. . Now,
they're different from your wife, and
why? 1 ask you fair and candid, why
shouldn't she look as happy, be as happy
and make as good a 'pearance every way
as them women? And why is it that she
has took to her bed in the orime o' life
! and don't wanter live no longer? For 1
find that's about the way it is with her.
When Uncle Jerry came back he went
up to the bed and sat down beside his
wife and looked at her. She was asleep,
and Mis' Hopkins thought he must 'a'
seen him draw his band acrost his eyes
two or three times on the sly.
Bimeby he got up and went out to Mis'
Hopkins, and, says he:
"What was the doctor's orders? What
can I do to help ye?"
"He ordered nourishin' food, and wine,
and so on," she says, "and 1 guess the
fust thing you may kill a chicken, if
you're minter, and git it ready fer the
broth; then go over to Jim Jackson's and
buy a quart or so of that oldest grape
wine o' his'n. She'll be . awake by the
time you get backwith it, I guess."
Uncle Jerry didn't so much as wink at
mention of the chicken, but when she
spoke o' the wine so offhand and matter
! o' course he drawed in his breath once or
twice kinder spasmodicky, but he never
opened his head.
When the broth wns ready Uncle Jer
ry asked if he might take it in; so Mis'
Hopkins filled one of the chiuy bowls that
was Aunt Betsey's mar's and set it in a
plate with a cracker or two, and he took
'em along.
The broth was good and strong, and
when Aunt Betsey tasted on't she looked
at her husband real kinder seairt, and,
says she:
"Where did this 'ore come from?"
And he 'aughed and snys: "It's made
out o' one of our best Plymouth Rocks;
is it good?"
A wonderin', quiverin' smile hovered for
n minute on to her poor face; she didn't
know what to make on't. But when he
lugged in the jug o' wine and poured out
a hull half a tumbler full and handed it to
her, her eyes fairly rtuck out of her head
with astonishment.
"Drink it; it'll do you good," says he.
"It's Jim Jackson's oldest grape wine
you've heard tell on."
"Why why,-husband!" she whispered,
"didn't it cost an awful sight o' money?"
"Only $3 a gallon," he answered, tryin'
to smile, but lookin' rather ghastly. She
sipped it slow, eyein' him over the top o'
the tumbler as she done so; but pretty
soon she set it down and spoke again,
awful meachin', and 'pealin', her lips
tremblin' as if she was going to cry.
"I'm sorry to put you to so much ex
pense, husband. I'm afraid I'm afraid
it ain't wuth while!"
He got up and blowed his nose with all
his might and main.
"I want you to get well, Betsey. I want
you to get well!" he managed to say.
The strangest expression come into her
face you ever see in any creature's. Then,
as if struck by somethin' in his looks, she
seemed to get a dim idee that he was dif
ferent, and she tried to make out how it
was, but couldn't, and, bein' too tired and
weak to think much, she jest shet her
eyes and give it all up.
That night Uncle Jerry harnessed the
old mare and went over and got Mary
Buell to came V stay with 'em a spell.
Mary's an excellent good hand in cases
o' sickness, and bein' an old maid, she's
always ready to go and dew fer the neigh
bors. She's a prime nuss and housekeep
er, and she's good company, too jest the
kind o' person to cheer Aunt Betsey up,
you know. Wall, it come along the day
TN TKOOPKD A PARChI, (V CHI LORE T.
'fore Christmas, and Aunt Betsey lay
back in her easy chair in the cheerful Bit
tin' room. A pitcher full of late fall flow
ers stood on the mantelshelf; a cracklin'
fire was burnin' in the open fireplace, and
the old tabby cat lay before it on the rug,
purrin' for all she was wuth a perfect
pictur' of content. . ,
The door was open into the kitchen, and
she could see Mary steppin' round about
her work, gettin' ready for to-morrer.
She could smell the stuiiin' for the turkey,
and the plum puddin' bakin' in the oven.
She knew there was a hull shelf full o'
pies in the pantry she see 'em yesterday
six mince, six punkin, three apple an'
three cranb'ry tart. She thought it was
too many to make at once; and seemed
so strange. She sighed and laid her head
back, with the old look on her face. She
was thinkin' of Ellen and the children.
She sat there, blamin' herself and think
in' what a poor, weak kind of a mother
she was, till the tears rolled down her
cheeks. . Then, all at once, she heard a
noise outside, ,
I OS
1 f
Bcotoe bt Christmas boljy out pall llje doors
Wbtrc ttjeuiufer jun&lji o,a f lood ot dory poor j
Hap fbeCprisfmai roses cufry&jhtre uedi), ,
Urfljfuj faaljel&tlr soetf souls iol&efaarfoffOai?.
iCU Torhf hme (5rj6r-Cr)ildoro ro cac year'. '
of Him meeK analoulv inth. -maiwr lit.
flnct1)e sfarof Promise 'mfjefortfaSKy. '
caffer loucand kindness evayatynat (an!
Qloty befo(joi arji0MctivdQooiw)l toward wan
t A I' i, if
The stage had stopped, and there was
the sound o' voices talkin' and laughin',
and of feet hurryin' .up the steps. Then
the door opened no, it was burst open
and in trooped a parcel o' children, and
behind 'em, not fur behind, with her hands
stretched out and the happy tears stream
in' down her pretty face, come her daugh
ter Ellen! . .
How them two kissed and clung to one
V other, till the children got out o' pa
tience and wouldn't wait no longer for
tfteir turn ! Then Uncle Jerry came to the
resky and says, betwixt laughin' and cry
in': "There, there, children! I guess that'll
dew! It's my turn now," and he took her
to the lounge whe-e she could lay and
rest and still be with 'em all. She pulled
him down to her and kissed him aud
whispered:
"Oh, husband, how good you be! You've
made me the happiest woman in the
world!"
Uncle Jerry got away as quick as he
could, and went out to the barn and set
down on tbe hay cutter and laughed and
wiped his eyes till he was some calmer.
Then; he fell on his knees and thanked
God reverently for nhowin' him before he
died what true happiness wuz, and how
to get it for himself by bestowin' it on
others. New York Tribune.
Another Year Is Dawning.
Another year Is dawning!
Dear Master, let It be.
In working or In waiting,
Another year with Thee,
Another year Is leaning,
Upon Thy loving breast
Ox ever-deepening trustfulness.
Of quiet, happy rest.
Another year of mercies,
Of faithfulness and grace;
Another year of gladness,
In the shining of Thy face.
Another year of progress.
Another year of praise;
Another year of proving
Thy presence all the days.
Another year of service,
Of witness for Thy love;
Another year of training
For holler works above.
Another year Is dawning!
' Dear Master, let It be
On heaven or else In heaven.
Another year for Thee.
Don'ts About Gifts.
Don't above all things ask the giver
whether you may exchange her gift.
Don't forget that it is the inward spirit
that makes the real value of the offering.
Don't express dissatisfaction with a
gift, no matter how great your disappoint;
ment. '
Don't above all things be guilty of mak
ing a list of articles you desire. This is
a species of polite blackmail.
Don't, even in your innermost self, spec
ulate as to whether your gift will bring
a return, and above all a return in mone
tary value. ".
Don't forget that the chief charm of a
gift is essentially the surprise. Don't,
therefore, barter with a friend as to re
ciprocal gifts. . , 1
Don'.t, if you have neglected to remem
ber a friend, wound her pride by sending
a New Year's gift in exchange for her
Christmas present. The motive is too ap
parent. Another Altered Will.
. Little Alice Mamma says 'she ain't go
ing to give you anything for Christmas
this year. 1 Papa's Maiden Sister Oh, she
isn't, eh? Why not? Little Alice 'Cause
the present she give you last year was
worth twice as much as what you give us.
Will Receive Culls.
"Do yod expect to receive calls on New
Year's day?" asked Willie Hicollar.
"Yes," answered Mamie Hollerton; "I'll
have to. The telephone exchange where I
work wouldn't give me the day off. Isn't
it mean?" Washington Star.
A Clincher. 1
Mrs. Cobwigger You are to ask only
one more question the whole evening.
Freddie Then, ma, if Santa Claus really
brings the presents why am I not to look
out of the window if an express wagon
drives up to the door? Judge.
A Definition of Christmas.
Sunday School Teacher Johnny, what
does Christmas mean? Johnny My pa
says Christmas means swapping a lot o'
things you can't afford for a lot o' things
you don't want. Life.
Whate'er the facts or fancies of onr creed.
They are divine If they but serve our needs:
I 4nd hence the brightness of that glorious
That st! 11 Is called "The Star of Bethle.
hem"
A Star, beyond all other stars, designed;
To shed a purer lustre on mankind,
And through the various lenses of the soul
To warm and cheer and elevate the whole,
And what, although Its broad supernal beams
May be but concentrations of the gleams
That lit up many an eastern Buddha's breast.
To shed erewhlle their radiance o'er the
west? ,
Whate'er the grade or color of the flame.
In essence, light and love are all the same.
Both myth and mystery must to all things
cling,
Else Progress has no source from whence to
spring.
Here none superior knowledge may assume,
As mind and matter are conceived In gloon.;
Nor has a Veda or Apocalypse
Dispelled one cloud of the profound ecllpsa.
But see! amid onr happy homes we stand.
With peace and joy widespread throughout
the land,
While merry little household Chrlsts ar
born
Of every song and smile this Christmas
morn.
Then let our inmost souls ascend In praise
To that mysterious power who guides our
ways;
And let us truly thank him, one and all,
For all his Chrlsts and Vedas, great and
small
But, oh, alas! that we should only see
His love and care In full prosperity!
Or that discomfort for a single hour
Should prompt us to deny his fostering
power!
Oh! when shall It be clearly understood
That evil's but the darkest shade of good;
That In some great equation may be blent
Darkness as though 'twere light's true com
plement? But now that we are all assembled here
On this glad day, the white stone of the
year
As on this elevated plane we stand,
Let us give those below a helping hand.
Let each produce what treasures'he has got
From any lore he loves no matter what;
But all the Christian needs, on his account.
Will simply be "the Sermon on the Mount.
Jenness-Mlller MontHly.
A FLORIDA CHRISTMAS.
How the Happy Day Is Celebrated in a
Fair Southern City.
HRISTMAS in
Florida is a novel ex
perience to North
erners. There the
manner of observing
this holiday is more
like a Fourth of
July celebration
than anything else.
The incessant firing
of torpedoes and fire
crackers in the mid-
g die of the day and
T the display of pyro
technics in the even
ing rob the' day of
much of its mythol
ogical and sacred significance. A stroll
through a typical town in the realm of
fruits and flowers gives a person from
the North some startling ideas. The
show windows are full of firecrackers,
Koman candles, sky rockets, packages of
torpedoes and other fireworks. The July
weather is present, aquatic and field
sports are carried out in accordance with
a regular picnic program, and the sight
of thousands in holiday attire on a race
track, the borders of some pretty lake or
a baseball park, gives little hint of a cele
bration which at the North is attended
with sleighing, skating and Chrisynas
trees. '.-...
Only in the churches is the commemo
ration suggestive and familiar. In some
of these a great Christmas ship, with
evergreen-trimmed masts, is displayed.
Bright little lads and pretty maids dress
ed in white and carrying tinsel wands
distribute presents to everybody. In the
negro quarters, too, the real yuletide fer
vor is shown. No one loves a holiday
better than a negro, and the eating, drink
ing and singing in the rough, boarded
huts is engaged in with ardent zeal.
Through latticed windows and open
doors may be seen the smoking turkey
and 'possum, hoe cake, pumpkin pies and '
watermelons. The patriarchal colored
preacher summons all his dusky clientele
to the rickety frame church in the after
noon or evening, fixing the minds of his
auditors on the sin of chicken stealing and
wandering in the white folks' orange
groves after midnight. Then all hands
join in the chorus of the old Chxistinaf
song:
Shin' on, shin' on; .
Doan' git weary, chillun!
Shin' on, shin' on
Oh, Jerusalem!
The weird chanting, accompanied by
the regular tapping of the feet of the
singers on the pine floor, is followed by
an adjournment to some large barn, where
the music from the negro orchestra's vio
lins and banjos for hours keep up the
dance, between fragments of
"All de darkies am a weepin',
Massa's in de cold,, cold groun,' "
and "Suwanee River," the plaintive
strains being wafted sweetly through the
swaying pines. '
"Well?" -
Need Not Interfere.
"I don't see your mistletoe," said he,
glancing up at the chandelier. "Is it real
ly necessary?" replied she, archly. It
wasn't. Judge.
The Flirt.
The mistletoe she keeps In view.
And though she says she won't.
She's angry with you If you do.
And cuts yon if you don't.