Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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Ip I year is new, dear, the year is Let us make a prom ise here, Little I and you. Not to fall to quar reling Over every tiny thing, But sing and smile, smile and sing, All the glad year through. As the year goes by, my dear, As the year goes by. Let us keep our sky swept clear. Little you and 1, Sweep up every cloudy scowl, Every little thunder-growl. And live and laugh. Laugh and live, ’Neath a cloudless sky. When the year is old, my dear. When the year is old. Let us never doubt o\ fear Though the days fcyow c0 ] d Loving hearts are alvkiys warm; Merry hearts know ne'er a storm, Come ice and snow, so love’s dear glow Turn all our gray to gold! -Laura E. Kichards, in Youth's Companion. New Year Greeting. My wee, sweet one, with the clustering curls, And the eyes so darkly blue. With the ruby lips and the two white pearls That ever are peeping through, I send you a kiss, where'er you may be, And a greeting full of cheer. May the angels comfort and care for thee. And grant thee a glad New Year. My bonny youth, with noble brow. And the full, untroubled eye. Whose only song is of pleasure now. And joy in the by-and-by, I send my message across the sea, Hope on with never a fear. Both long and gay may thy journey be, 1 wish thee a glad New Year. My aged one, with the snowy hair, And the feeble step and slow, Thy voice that joined in the midnight prayer Was strangely faint and low. I greet thee now, but 1 look to see 1 If the Boatman draweth near, And I speak no word, since 1 know for thee God brlngeth a Glad New Year. —Lalia Mitchell, in Ladies’ World. KlHER (HR! SIMAS. t • it. ’ £ \ iSiP HR EE weeks be fore Christinas Aggie and Tom quarreled again. Nobody minded very much except themselves; but then they minded a good deal, which made up for it. However, when the estrangement had lasted for a whole fortnight—fully ten days beyond the usual period their friends be came concerned; and as it drew near Christ mas day the pater was quite angry. “Those two young fools might just as well make it up now as go moping about all through Christmas time and spoiling every one else's fun,” he grumbled. And the dear little mater spoke of them with a sorrowful shake of the head. Could not the pati r give Tom a hint that Aggie was fretting? 1’er- baps if he were to drop in one evening to see the children, now baby was growing so? Hut pater thought that, as Aggie was ma ter’s sister, and ten years younger according to the unimpeachable testimony of the family Bible, it was rather a matter for sisterly advice. So neither intervened, and the tenth (or was it the eleventh?) parting for “forever” had lasted three weeks on Christmas eve. At this point ail the family agreed that something must lie done. “If you don’t speak to Aggie, 1 shall have to speak to her myself.” said pater, lirmly, ns he put on the Santa Claus coat with the big pockets, to sally forth in the morning. "No, no, my dear, 1 really can’t ask poor old Tom to eat humble pie. I don’t consider that lie was to blame at all. He was prac tically bound to go and play for his club that afternoon, and she; could have gone to the show just as well in the evening. Women never will understand that men—” “Oh, pater!” expostulated the mater, softly, “ex cept you, my dear, always excepting you. Hut you are unique.” Then mater laughed and he kissed her. “Oh, hut 1 hope you won’t, John,” she said, eoaxingly. ‘Toor old Ag has been crying her eyes out all the time; but she’s too proud to make overtures, though she owns she was partly to hlume. If you could bring him round, now, to pay the compliments of the season to me, or to aee the children?” "I’mph!” said pater, rather shortly, “I shall lose my train if I •t< ip any longer; and 1 ought to have caught the one before, really.” Ala ter didn’t bother him any further. She saw a twinkle in his eye; and she had been married to him for nine years, and knew his ways, you see. Hut, presumably, he remembered when Tom (whose chief he was) looked into his private room about lunch time to pay his fMpeets. "You’re coming round to-morrow afternoon, of course, old man?” said pater, in his most everyday tom*. Hut Tom looked very glum and shook his head. “Nonsense!” ejaculated pater wrathfully, “you were the friend of the family before Miss Aggie came to live with us, the little minx. You’d never desert the youngsters on Christ mas day? Molly and Dot are always asking about ‘Uncle’ Tom, and I’m sure the boy will re [member you. He’- growing a fine big chap I now, anil walks all over the place; he fell Idownstaii- twice III veil ” “Nn. no, nld jan,” replied Tom, miserably, “I can’t pome} I really can’t. I’ve gut a let <1 thim -. to send ioiiimI for the 1,cl-, bit ■■ ili' ii little Harts! and I thought you wouldn’t mind if sent something for the mater; you've al- ►nys bean nwi'illy kind to me. both ol vnu. Tve bought a little present for Ag, to have readj^in rase she- we perhaps we tau’t ever—hut—At this point the view \ in the street became so interesting that he took a prolonged look out of the window, whilst pater sketched an elaborate diagram upon his blotting-pad. However, pater must have cheered Tom up a good deal in the course of the day, for they left the office together in high spirits. They made a mysterious and prolonged visit to a fancy-dress emporium and one or two other places, and then they stuck big cigars in their mouths* and actually went off and played a couple of hundred at billiards- pater’s annual dissipation, as he called it. After this they went to the booking-office at St. Raul’s station to collect half a van load of parcels; and finally dispersed at Dulwich with a cabful apiece. It was noticeable that Tom had grown very cheer ful since the morning, and pater arrived home so full of jokes and merriment that even Aunt Aggie had to smile. Then the real business of the day began. There were the nieces and nephews to visit, with presents; there were the Christmas boxes to the servants, the parcel-hringers, and all sorts and conditions of men and women—for pater didn’t believe in waiting till boxing day. There was the final stirring of the Christmas pudding, a solemn annual rite, under the superintendence of cook, at which each member of the household was ex pected to be present. After this the chil dren went to bed, and the onerous functions woke at five, and fdled the house with yells of rapturous excitement when they saw the array of toys in and around their bloated stockings. Hut wise nurse had lit the gas stove in the nursery, so that they could play there during the small hours without dis turbing everyone else; and excepting that Roy took a header off the new rocking horse, and Dot warmed a wax doll’s nose a trifle too much at the fire, no harm was done. Rater was, as usual on such occasions, a fourth child, and the youngsters were in high glee all the morning. Then grandpa and grandma came, bring ing presents for all the older ones—it being understood that they had been somehow in league with Santa Claus as regards the children. And everyone had a present for them, even the little ones, whose pennies had been remarkably productive in pater’s hands. The dinner was Al, the pudding in par ticular being such a success tiiat cook was called in for special compliment, and nearly fell over a chair bowing herself out. Every thing was so jolly that it really did seem strange for Aunt Aggie to look so grave, un less, suggested little Molly to Dot, she was looking for a present from "Uncle” Tom which hadn’t come. After dinner pater made a little speech which excited the curiosity of everyone, and announced an event which made that Clirist- and followed by a wonderful old gentleman in marvelous attire, who, even by the light of the low gas jets and the flickering fire, was easily recognized as Father Christmas him self. Truly he was a remarkable sight. He had a jolly red old face, and such twinkling, merry eyes! He wore a long white heard, which almost covered his broad, crimson waistcoat. His ample white hair was sur mounted by a crown of holly loaded with berries, and toys peeped out from every pocket of his long green coat. He carried in his right hand a stout staff covered with thick ivy. He laughed all round as he sat down, until everyone laughed again, and he said: “A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” in such a big, hearty voice that they shouted: “The same to you, Father Christmas!” with one accord. He 1 reckoned the servants to place the parcels on the table in front of him, and, pressing some thing in their hands which made them say: “A Merry Christmas to you, sir!” motioned them out. Then he hesitated and began to mop his face with a big silk handkerchief, as if ire hardly knew how to begin. There could he no doubt that, as pater and grandpa said, lie was somewhat diffident and nervous. So pater got up and made another little speech such as no one else could make. Some of it made them laugh, and some of it made them Then pater took hold of her arm, and said so quietly that no one else heard: “Fa ther Christmas wants to give you a^resent, my dear.” So Aunt Aggie rose and let him lead her up to their guest. Just as she came to Father Christmas, however, grandpa and grandma made two funny mistakes. Grand pa accidentally turned the gas right out; and i grandma, feeling too warm, it must lie pre- j Mimed, pushed the screen suddenly in front | of the fire. It took pater quite a couple of minutes to find the matches (which were in his pocket, after all); and that couldn't make grandma understand about the screen —you see, she is getting rather old—and so nobody saw exactly what happened. Mater has an idea that she heard something about “dear little Aggie!” and “dear old Tom!” though she hasn’t told anyone, and one and all declare that that naughty old scamp of a Father Christmas was heard to kiss auntie. Rrohably Ids bashfulness returned after this, for when the lights were lit again he had dis appeared (grandma seemed to have been handing his clothes round the door, some- said). And the present which he had left for Aunt Aggie (how she did smile!) was— there, you’d never guess it!—Uncle Tom! After that, everyone must believe in Fa ther Christmas. Perhaps, if they are very good, some of my readers may get Aunt Ag gies and Uncle Toms for their presents; hut “ Wake up, old man I And just to think I Your time has come; you’ve run your twelve months through; In one short year I’ll be as old as you I” of Santa Claus had to he performed. Then there was pretty Aggie to kiss and present with something glittering done up in silver paper; and her brother-in-law must have forgotten his intended admonition, for he put his hand on her shoulder very kindly, and whispered something about all coming < * /ft V IT DID SEEM STRANGE FOR AUNT AGGIE TO LOOK So GRAVE. right, when she liegan lorry a hit, liecaune ; she was a very nice little sister-in-law, really, [ you know. "Only men never will umk-r- ; stand!”—as mater says. 1 Next morning, of course, the children mas celebration different from all others, lie was expecting, he said, a visit from an old friend of his: an intimate friend whom he had known from Ins childhood, and whom they had all wished to meet; an old and tried friend, he might also say of their grandpa's—he had even heard of his own grandpa’s also! At this point a shout of '’.Santa Claus!” arose from the children, who had somehow arrived at the idea that the kindly old saint was a person with whom fathers and grandfathers had ex tensive business relations. "No,” pater ex claimed, “it wasn’t exactly Santa Claus. Hut it was a relative of his—indeed, some people said, his brother, lie meant Father Christinas!” The mouths of the little ones opened wide with astonishment, and all of the older ones looked puzzled except grandpa, who is al ways quick in taking in the situation, and never more so \liati when be knows the secret beforehand! He was very glad, he re marked gravely, that his old friend had so far overcome his shyness as to consent to visit them in |M-rson. W hen they reflected upon the hem-fits which he had conferred upon them all—for it was generally known that he inspired even the kindness of Santa Claus himself he w.ih sure that they would, one and all, give him the heartiest of wel comes. If I ie might make a suggestion, it was that, looking to their distinguished visitor’s undoubted modesty and Imsliful- ness, they should turn down the lights until he was thoroughly at home. Nobody ob jected. and just as he rose to carry out this considerate attention there was a tremen dons double ktinck and ring at the front door. After an interval of breathless expectation, the servants entered, loaded with parcels, cry, and once. I think, grandma and mater wiped their eyes, and grandpa and Aunt Aggie looked very hard into the lire. There w;is something about “peace on earth and good will toward men,” and something about remeniliering those whom they would not for all the world forget, and forgetting little grudges and quarrels that no one wanted to remember. There was something, too, about the happiness of all in receiving, and the greater happiness in giving, and last of all there was something about what it all meant—1 think he said “kindness and re membrance and love”—hut he faltered so here that one had to guess at the words. Such, he said, were the gifts which their visitor brought, and such were the gills which all would wish to render in return. Then grandpa received a pipe, and patera box of cigars; grandma, a wonderful ar rangement to hold up a book to r*ul, and mamma a pretty stand flic must have heard her say that she wanted something to go in the little window!). The children had dolls, and engine., and hooks, and boxes, ami bon bons there seemed no end to them. Every one had something, till at hist only Auntie Aggie was left: ami she seemed to feel this, for she kept clasping and unclasping her hand over her handkerchief, which she had rolled into a hall, uud looked quite uncom fortable. Then grandpa said, very knowingly; “Fa ilin' Christmas, is anyone forgotten?” Hut Father Christinas became hmdifiil again at this point, and his voice sounded so fiinnv when he began to reply that he couldn’t go on. And Aggie trembled so when the ehil- drrn whispered audibly in her ear: “Say ‘me,’ auntie,” that everyone lagan to feel i uneasy for the moment. JUST A HINT. i! if % m anyhow, if they remember pater’s speech, he may be relied upon to bring what 1 heartily wish them—A Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!—J. A. Flynn, in St. Raul's (laindon). Flic—Do you really think, Horace, that the hliml will ever lie made to see? Me—I hope so. Fhe—F<> do I! (and then she gazed at the sprig of mistletoe above her head and sighed).—N. Y. Truth. Tljear, t838* a ^PETENDEI?. * ill HEN Christmas time is almost here. And folks begin to wink, And hush their talk when I come near, Then I begin to think I’ll write to Santa Claus about The things I want to fill My stockings.—He won’t get the note, But I pretend he will. I slip It in the envelope, And put it with the mail, And beg mamma to send it By the postman, without fail; And thank her when I find it gone, For doing what 1 bid; I know she never sent it off, But I pretend she did. I take my stockings Christmas Eve, And by the chimney side I hang them, while I wish that they Were twice as long and wide; And wonder how the chimney Lets him down, that jolly man! Of course I know it truly can’t, But I pretend it can! And when on Christmas morning, All the things I wanted so. Are st icking from my stocking tops, Or standing in a row, I hug and kiss my mother, And my father, too, because I know it’s mostly them, though I Protend it’s Santa Claus! —Mrs. George Archibald, in Good House* keeping. The Call. Behold a white-robed angel at my door, Crying amid the darkness of the night; “Ope thou thy heart before the dawn of light, And let me take thy hand and lead thee o’er The chasm of dull gloom. Fear not! full store Of God’s great jewels have I for thy sight; Come forth, and follow where the way Is white, And leave old sorrows on thy tear-swept floor.” It Is the New Year calling thus to me. And my soul fears to take her willing hand; Yet I must go—Time holds the magic key. And I should tread the unknown, open land With song and hope—with courage unde- flled; And so I go—with faith, as would a child. —Charles Hanson Towne, In Ladies’ World. ONE IS ENOUGH. "Eph, I want to give you a nice fat tur key for Christmas,” said Col. Hawker. “Dot’s berry kin’, cunncl, but I’d ’fer a two dollar bill ef’s all de same to you. Kris Ki iiiglc alius ’pears to leab a tuhkey at my bouse de uighl afoh Chris’maa.”—Detroit Free Tress. BROWN’S REVENGE. He Plans to Get Even with His Bet ter Half. “Hello, Hrown. Been Christmas shop ping?” asked the man with the fur-lined overcoat of the man with the bundles. “Yes. I’ve been buying some little things for my wife,” replied the man with the packages. “You have? That’s good. I say, old man, tell me what you have got her. I’ve got to get some things for my wife, and I haven’t the slightest idea what to get.” “1 have bought her a razor, a box of cigars, a meerschaum pipe, mid a few little things of the kind.” “For your wife? Why, man, you must be crazy!" “Yes, they are for my wife, as I told you.” “Good heavens, Hrown! What is the mat ter? Your wife must be a new woman of the worst sort.” “Oh, no. I am just getting even with her.” “1 don’t understand.'* “Well, you see last year she gave me brushes and combs for the bureau, and an afternoon tea service. 1 expect something of the kind from her this year with a bill for them a few days after Christmas. I have determined, however, that 1 shall have sometliing that is suitable for me, so I have bought them us Christmas presents for her.” “J say, Hrown. You are a genius, my hoy. I believe 1 will buy my wife the same kind of presents that you have Isiught for yours. I believe that it would be a good idea to give her that beautiful meerschaum pipe she has wanted for so long and has not been able to afford to buy. She gave me some curtains last Christmas.”—Chicago Times-llerald. His Woes. “Hobby doesn’t seem happy, even with all those toys.” “So I have noticed. What’s the matter. Hobby?” “W’y, I got new ice skates an’ a sled, an' I dunno whether I want it t’ freeze or snow.”—Detroit Free Rress. Probably a Pleasant One. Walkin’ beneath the mistletoe may be » mistake on the part uv a young lady, but I can assure her it is likely ew lie a very pleasant one.—N. Y. Truth. ii’n fVtUi * 'hii! Ja in.