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?fL= * FORT MILL TIMES. Published Thursday Mornings. /. l*ORT MILL, S. C. Bigbee children looked at the Cv^HH river, and eave r^/JvU InH up all hope of iTTi 7 Ww Christmas. The A- steamboat went Tj~ by on its dally <7j trip, breaking the way through the crust during the night, and leaving behind a highway of drifting ice. On the bank beyond they could see the houseB and the church, but could not go there. ^ "We may even forget when Christmas comes." said Ben. "unless we notch a stick, like Robinson Crusoe." "I shall not forget," said Delia. "Nor I," said Mamie Scudder. Kf The FMgbees lived on an island. There was one house besides their W own, where Mrs. 6cudder and Mamie lived. Mamie never crossed the waF ter In cold weather, but the Bigbee children rowed across every week to Sunday school, until December brought ice and snow. People living on a small island must take boat3 instead of carriages when they go to church or post office or n^arket. But the Bigbee children did not think that a hardship. I "We want clear water all winter," aid Delia. / "I hope you will have it." said the'1 teacher, "at least till Christmas. We /are going to have carols and a Christ- ! I mas tree." I This was great news to the Bigbees, 1 I who had never seen a Christmas tree. ! I They talked about it. and told Mamie J Scudder. They knew there would be ; candles on the tree, and shining things among the bougha. But the flrst Sunday lr December | a blinding snowstorm kept them at home. The next Sunday and the next there was ice tossing in the river, so that no llttln rowhoat rotild Ventura abroad. One more Sunday, and then Monday would be Christmas. All the hnppy children across the river would go to church end there would be the t tree " dl of gifts. * "It's a cold day and growing cold- 1 eT." said Mr. Blgbee on Saturday. The family kept close round the fire. None of them spoke of Christ- | ? mas. There had been no secret preparations. no shopping trips. Money was scarce in the Blgbee family. When Ben and Delia went to their beds at night, Paul, who followed soon after, came back Into the kitchen with a serious face. "Mother." he said, "they have hung up their stockings!" Mrs. Blgbee set her lips tight. Then fsho put her arm round Paul, and n *' * kissed him. "Never mind." he said. "We can pop corn and crack nuts." Mrs. Blgbee stayed up late that night. By 11 o'clock she had mado cookies shaped In various ways? birds, dogs, balls, hoys, horses, elephants. camels, hearts, sheep and rabbits?and not one too big to slip easily Into a child's stocking. She put 12 Into each of her children's stockings, hanging Paul's up also. She glanced toward Mrs. Scudder's, but the lights were out. "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" shouted the children the next morning. The house rang with laughter and mirth. There was great excitement over the stockings. Even Paul was Interested and amused. "Dear little mother." he said, softly. Mamie came with her stockingful. and the children nlaved monnpurl# Noah'B Ark. and farmyard for hours. The Btenmboat mado no trip that day. A few skaters were seen. "1 guess the boat skips Christmas the same as Sundays," said Paul. After dork he went to the window. "I bear the bells." he said. "And the church windows shine." A silence fell on the group. "Tf we knew the carols we would sing them ourselves." said Mrs. Pigbee. From time to time the children 1 went to the window. It was starlight. "See the lights In the road!" exclaimed Delia. "The folks are going home with lanterns." "They're coming down the bank!" said Den. A little line of lights moved steadily i along. They were certainly on the j frozen river. They were coming toward the Island. "Why. father, father!" shouted Paul. | "The river must be frozen hard all over, and that's why the boat didn't go!" "It happened so once six years ago." i said Mr. Dlgbce. Mrs. Scudder ran over from her j house. "They're Ringing!" she cried "Listen!" The sweet Christmas carols sounded clearer and clearer, as boys nnd girls came up the bank, up to the very house. "Come In! Come In!" said Mr. Rigbee. throwing the door open. It was as If church, tree, festival, Christmas and everything had come to the Blgbees and Scudders. "We cut off a bough full of candles to bo your tree," said the boys. They set It up In a corner and lighted the candles anew. "We brought your presents." said the girls, giving each a book and box of candy. It was late when, with merry farewells, the visitors took their lanterns and departed, singing carols, while the happy children watched the line of lights recrosslng the river, and listened In happinos until the voleo:; died nway in the distance > BEgBHT .- : Che BilliM Aliuaiji 0 4 mmmA ROM the rush and bustle of biisy El ^ American city streets, alive at this season of the year with Eg Christmas shoppers, back to old f Nuremberg, In Germany, where the Christmas spirit lasts the year around, where Santa Claus spends his working mpnths for the Joy of the world's children? surely the step is not too great for the imagination nor its goal uninteresting as a study. Come oyt of your crowded streets, your people-packed stores, leave off for the time being your breathless chase after that troublesome "last present," and turn into the quiet winding streets, the irregular hilly passages dovetailed by houses older than anything in the oldest parts of the United States. House rises above house full of a history as romantic as the proudest mansion of our city streets, and yet marked by a simplicity and single-heartedness seldom present'in things modern. It is lu?re that the toys are made which von hnv in vmir hnmn across the sea. Here in the quietness of the unmodern, the playthings are invented and perfected for your restless,, buoyant children. You read "Made in Germany" with a skeptical tilt of the eyebrow, but the fact remains that bv far the I 1 greater number of all the toys manufactured tl come from Nuremberg. n The ancient feudal city, around which cluster u the grim traditions of the Inquisition und the ^ thrilling epic of the times of Charles V., has for tj four hundred years or more been the center of B the children's fairyland. It lias been and is the nucleus of Christmas happiness for the youth e of every place in the Occident, and its charm ti is the perpetual one of joyous creation which de- t< lights in planning the amusement of little people. c' In the fnctories they will tell you that 72,000,000 marks ($18,000,000) worth of pleasure is sent out from Nuremberg every year, and that tl $5,800,000 of this export is for the benefit of 0| Young America. Only a few years ago all of the w necessary labor for this immense production was a done by hand, ami much of the finishing and fine ci last touches are performed by special artists. ft Even now in the factories the old spirit of an P almost consecrated enthusiasm lives and is evi- ^ dent in the interest of the village artisans for their craft. Not merely the reason of broad and ^ butter goi s toward the making of those marvel- ^ ous walking dolls, those phenomenal speaking ^ picture books, those thousand and one games that have called for all the imaginative as well as { practical genius of these honest German peasant folk. Rather has their unique industry called for . and developed in them a romance, a sensitiveness of perception which is remarkable. Follow the lurching, worn curves of the Al- t brecht-Durerstrasse, and you come to one of the f many homes of this Nuremberg spirit. In a niln- \ iature red-roofed house, wedged in among a hun- v dred squat brown huts, live two old men?broth- t ers, of sixty-five and seventy?whose white t heads are constantly bent over small circles of | wood?shaping, paring, carving, painting. t All day they sit there, sometimes all night, toiling over the delicately ornamented dolls' t dishes which perhaps you have bought, as a small I Insignificant thing, Just this afternoon for your c small daughter's tree. t You looked at them carelessly; they were not v especially original or attractive, and you shoved them into your bag with a half-hesitating accept- f ance, thinking that mavhe they would please ca- 1 prlelous Dorothy. How could you know that hack in the village of Always Christmas old hands had fashioned those trivial plates and pitchers, old ' eyes had strained with loving anxiety over those fine traceries of columbine, and old hearts had r warmed over those completed trifles with the a same thrill of the master painter over his best? r But this viia true. Indeed, nearlv all of the 1 simple wooden toys are constructed by hand, in x some humble volkshause which goes to make up 1 the aggregate creative force of Santa Claus' c workshop. Take the tiny sets of soldiers, the f doll's chairs and tables, the painted wooden aid- 1 inals whose realism Is a delight to all children, 1 actual or' grown up. These are fashioned in homes, sometimes by the efTorts of wholo fain- < ilies, but most often by children themselves. t Sixteen Is the ago limit for chJJd labor in the ' factories, but no young person is prohibited from * assisting his parents at home, provided he spends * the required period of time at school, tio that many of those playthings which give most happiness to the children of America have been 1 made by the children of Nuremberg. And If < babies must work, what work could one find for 1 | them more appropriate or more pleasurable than i * \ ? at (iriftmnST \rs, Parisian frocks, 1/1 V^W\. ^,yS^ A ^c? > riinitlve carta drawn ^^S^sssjL-Si, ?T""T1. 1 y hugs mastiffs, funny ?55; lcked-away inns near cTcfy^zA^^- szv le market place full 2^C>y fu'iDJPJr { peasant women in ide black silk aprons nd snowy white caps?crumbly fountains and a istle with n secret passage. All the elements of the iscinating past and the strangely progressive resent within a stone's throw of each other. The sali/.atlon of all that Nuremberg has been and as undergone comes to one most vividly as one lands looking down Into the Schloss well fi50 set deep, where prisoners used to come to fetch ater. Underground their passage led from the ungeons to this unlit circular pool, for state prisners were never permitted to see the light, and he hollow splash of the water which the attendnt drops into the well seems to re-echo, after an nternilnable lialf-minute, the hopeless pilgrimge of those countless victims of medieval fanatcism. Such is the potency of the ended. While he vitality of the occurring emphasizes Itself, not ar off, in one of the dozens of toy factories, rhose very machinery whirs modernity, men, foroen and children?that is, children over sixeen?are massed Into this building, nil intent on he one idea, the creation of better and newer and nore wonderful toys for everyone's children, in sveryone's country. It is seldom the industrial planet can boast of i broader ambition than this of the craftsmen of Nuremberg. To bring the greatest possible amount ?f pleasure, legitimate and often educative pleasire, to growing, active minds is surely an aim vorthy of the finest art In the world. It even ieenis as though the thought back of the toys should surround them with a deeper meaning as lifts this Chrlstmastide, since the added gift?the jfggest gift?lies in the patient interested invenion and accomplishment of which they are the exponent. As for the inventors, strictly speaking, their eward seems Infinitesimal according to our stand- , irds. The ' boss"' controls Ideas as well as mateiuls of output, and It Is chiefly to his profit that lew inventions in toyland redound. The man or voman who first thinks of or improves upon some ilaything gets a very small per cent, of the in:ome from it. To our new world standards of onimerce it seems strange that the originator thould receive such scant recognition and that without grumbling. Very, very few Nuremberg toymakers have jver grown rich over their ingenlousness. It is rue that Ideas as well as toys In Germany sell or double what they sold for eight years ago, ?ven! On the other hand the price of living has sone up appreciably, and what would have seemed i large purchase price then is only moderate now. The staff of artists employed by the Nuremjerg factory boss is in Itself a not Inconsiderable )x,>ense, and many a quiet charity is undertaken l>y these men. who at home would be absorbed n getting rich. In the shop of Fritz Muller aro } w . " ? - w " ff i ' ^ '' ?* ;' v ,r/^^3\ \vcs&frt/i?eoJ Zcssyroj^ ??*, ^ ^- j various sruall kitchen gardenB, carved and painted by a poor man and his sister after their regular working hours, and bought by Mr. Muller at high rates as his pet philanthropy. In this shop, now 100 years old, are seen all of the most novel of the toy-village playthings. The store was crowded with n\pre children over thirty than under thlr teen, an?l absorbed for hours over the clever and quaint attractions. The doll's house of Nuremberg leaves nothing to be desired. Not only the usual rooms of a conventional menage are found in it, but conservatories with miniature orchids, fountains and watering chns; school rooms with tiny deslcs, a schoolmaster, very stern, with goggles and ruler, and children in aprons and carrying slates, tho latter a sixteenth of an Inch big; fields of flowers for the back yard and a swing for the smallest doll. In all German art. of which toy "making is by no means an Insignificant department, perfection of detail has always been the salient feature. Ever.v phase of home life is reproduced in microscopic form in German toylnnd, even down to the wee pairs of hand-knitted stockings and sweaters, the hob-nailed shoes and blue blouses which make up the wardrobe of the volks boy and girl. The tourist season is a second Christmas for Nuremberg people, and they sell as many playthings In the one period as the other. An interesting point brought to light by this fact is the early differentiation of the American and European Individuality, which shows itself in choice of games and pastimes. They say in the shops that an American child is invariably fascinated over the mechanical and complicated, that lie finds intense interest in mastering the technicalities even of playing, while the European child likes a simpler hut brilliantly colored toy, cherishing often a curious sentiment for traditional objects such as typify old world conservatism. They are blessed with imagination, there village people, and they are not ashamed of showing their simplicity of spirit. Their souls are bound up In the heritage of centuries. The tragedies of their city's history wind about the toys they make, breathing into the wood a characteristic vitality?the vitality that comes of centuries nf Rtrivinc nf nonfnrlfto 1 ? 4 ... ....... ... .... ui imurui nuuit-Vflllt'Ill. As you sit in a swirl of red ribbon and foamy paper, "doing up" your Christ mas presents, remember that many of them have come from this quaint little Village of Always Christmas. it may add to your holiday happiness to know that no pleasure which the toys may bring can be greater than the pleasure of those who made them, and that no good will of yours can outdo the quiet sincerity of purpose with which the simple people of Nuremberg have given their part toward this season of the universal gift. I ========= { "Bfttg ssnft ?illfkcn" As Rnttv Innkt'll nn frnm t>f.f ?"? broidery, a letter was thrown into her lap. "Hurrah!" cried Hillee, "here's a letter from mother. She Is not a bit angry about our runaway match, and writeB beautifully. She wants us to go down for a visit and stay over the Christmas season. Will you go, Hetty?" "Of course. 1 will!" she cried delightedly; and then, a little wistfully, "Do you think your mother will like me. Hlllikin?" "She will adore you. How can she help it? And I am sure you will love her. Do you think we could start tomorrow?" "Tomorrow? Well. 1 guess we could. We can pack at once. Let me see. what clothes shall 1 take? Are they very gay down there, or must I be terribly demure? "Let me know my role and 1 shall play it to the letter. I once took part in a Sunday school entertainment and was the hit of the piece. I think I was somebody's spinster aunt. | and said 'Land sokes' every five min1 utes. I simply must get on with your I mother." Billee smiled. "It isn't a case of land sakes exactly, though I'll admit mother is a little old-fashioned, and there isn't much doing down there. "Oh. I see." sighed Hetty ruefully, j "I could take my blnok tailored gown, and my blue rnjnh. a couple of I quiet blouses and skirts. . i It was almost tea time when they arrived, cold and tired after their long Journey. When they were shown to their room Hetty was delighted. "Oh. isn't this delightful, after a 10x12 flat! And. Hilloe, I think your mother is a dear!" "I knew you would like her. and she will absolutely dote on you; I feel i It in my bones!" Hut Hetty was not so sure. More than once she felt her niotlier-in-law 1 /Sb I : "Here They Are," Exclaimed Betty. gazing at her in a sort of mild dlsapj proval. which was both annoying and J perplexing. In the meantime Hillee had noticed it. too. and cornered his mother on , the !irst opportunity. ? "Now, mother, what is it you don't like about Hetty? I am sure you do I not approve of her in some way." "Why, I did feel a little disappointed that you, being so young and lively, had chosen a girl of her age and with ! so little life and spirit." "Of her age!" exclaimed the aston1 Ished fellow. "Why. Hetty Is only ' nineteen and 1 am twenty-four. Did j you want me to rob a kindergarten? And lively? Why. Hetty Is the most spirited girl you ever saw." "Well." she said finally, "if that is :h?- way she appears to you, I am very SB glad for your snkr; but she really is ' shy and isn't quite her natural self. Jpt or that the way she wears her hair j and dresses makes her seein older | and more staid than she really is " "Oh!" exclaimed her son in a tone that spoke volumes. "Mother. I j thought that you did not care for ' folderols and vanities." "Well. I am an old lady." she anI swercd with a toss of her head, "but when I was young I wore my share of i vanities with the best of them. You see how it is. Hillee; 1 had told all our friends here that you had married such n society belle and that she was j so stylish and pretty and?" "And she doesn't look the part!" With a peal of laughter he rushed out | of the room and up the stairs. "Come out of it. Hetty; it's all a A ni'stake. Get on your war paint. You did bring a few things with you, didn't ! you?" "What do you mean?" demanded an i astonished Hetty. M "Hetty." he began gravely, but ended in another peal of laughter, "we'ro on the wrong track The mater says you depress her. You lack youth and gaiety. It's all my fault, wretch that I am; she isn't old-fashioned at all." When they burst into the Bitting room a few minutes later the old lady looked up in amazement. For a whole minute she surveyed them, then latighed till the tears ran down her pink cheeks. "You poor child! And to think that you went to all that trouble to gain my regard!" | "Yes. ami rve oeen positively sufi faring for a good laugh, and afraid to be my natural self, for fear you would be shocked," added Betty dolefully. "The idea! The very idea! And I've been suffering for a little life and gaiety, and have looked to Billeo and | his wife to bring mirth into this lonely old homo, nnd to?" Her voice I broke Instantly their arms were ? J around her. ' ^ "Shall we have a Jolly Christmas, Tlillikin? Shall we make the rafters ring''" comes a gay challenge from Betty. "Leave it to us! ' raid Tlillikin.