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The News and Observer VOL. XLV. NO. 91. `lB9B.Some of The Stockings That Claus Saw on His Rounds Last Night. 1989. «PC D © mlffiS Jlfmt ISpRi ,B*w^m \gkJi g m Wmk jg? mi 9 villWtfP&Ettfr ■■ ■’?&' *• "w ''~fytjr ~J*Z3mk i FATHER CIIRISTM A B. llarpejr’s Bazaar. (’hriistmas. Father (Miristmas, Is this you with your pack? You've been awhile upon your way A ml. a burden on your back: A million toys for children. And joys for older folk, And the merry heart is yours, for all Your gifts are .all bespoke. Oh. Christmas, Father Christmas, Had you a thought of me, When you came through the deep green wood And found the fair green tree That blossoms out with tapers Bike stars that twinkle bright, To show the path to sailor-men Who plough tin- seas at night? If once you thought of me. then You've brought my true love home. * God grant it be that nevermore My true love hence may roam! And Christmas. Father Christmas, Fray give us from your pack The otic sweet heavenly gift of peace You never can take back. -ALICE EVANS j (Q 1 rl Zb r Jt v JBSSS^^^gbm& Ifef \ ' a un^ssn^H :^aa TY EIGHT. (Harper’* Bazaar.) A year ago, a little year. But oh! it seems full ten years long Since one she loved was here —was here, And with her sang the Christmas song. The Christmas song of mirth and cheer. One year ago, one weary year. Alone she sits and thinks of him. The year's last sands are sinking low. The empty room is strangely dim Save for the candles’ yellow glow. Almost one fancies ghosts about; The sparkling Yule-tide stars are out. She sings, with what a quavering note, Her grieving thoughts are far away. A sob is trembling in bor throat. How shall she sing this song today? Old memories at her clutch, One's native land may ask too much! And yet. there may lie tender ghosts That steal from shores contiguous To waves that sweep from our own coasts, And wistfully yearn over ms: Bueh shadowy friends, so close they stand One almost feels the vanished hand. And many a heart this Christmas-tide Keeps vigil, for its dear ones gone. A lonely hearth, a chair beside The embers once that redly shorn*. And many a heart must mourn its fate This Christmas, eighteen ninety-eight. MISTER CHRISTMAS. Mister Christmas, wish you bring All yo’ linn's kin hoi’, Ka/.e do li’l chillun cryin’. En de li’l chillun col’. It don’t take much for po’ folks; Hey got a humble soul; 1 But. de li’l chillun cryin’ j En de li'l chillun col’. I Mister—Mister Christmas, l’ut me on de roll; Kjizc de li'l chillun cryin’, En de li'l chillun col’, FRANK L. STANTON. Science teaches us that the sun draws water from the earth. The spots on the sun are no doubt caused by what it draws from the Chicago river. When a man gets into trouble the majority of those who call to sympathize with him are only after the. parrieuhirs. RALEIGH, N. C., SUNDAY MORNING, DEC EM HR 25, 1898. ■fid/ / .-fi dl.i mmSmk # mkUr*'* J awy&nftf fill wmVBKn >H ■ THE HOLIDAY BELLS. They sound their sweet notes o’er the cities. They ring o’er the hills and the dells; They echo the voices of children The happy, sweet holiday bells! The holiday bells, The holiday bells! They ring o’er the cities—they thrill through the (leys; And never birds singing Where roses are springing Sang sweet as the holiday bells! They are telling the tenderost story That life with its, joys ever tells; They ring out the gloom for the glory The happy, sweet holiday bells! The holiday bells. The holiday bells! They ring o’er the cities-—they thrill through the dells; No birds that are singing Wherei roses are springing Sing sweet as the holiday bells! —F. L. Stanton. SUNDAY STUFF SEE!!! THE SPIRIT OF FEACE. Sweet spirit of peace and of splendor, Gentle and heavenly-wise. All that is truthful and tender Dwells in your radiant eyes. Sweet spirit of faithfullest mission. Stay, stay till the dreams shall depart, For all that we dream of Elysian Throbs in your heavenly heart. Sweet spirit that pitying sorrow. Hath never a whisper of blame; 4 That singeth at night <*£ the morrow, And snveth from dare pits of shame. Sweet spirit! what songs shall we sing you In naths which your presence hath blest? Ere the bells of the beautiful ring you To the 'plies and roses of rest? Sweet spirit! No song of our singing Is worthy to echo your way; • No b- 11s o’er the rose-gardens ringing Your wonderful sweetness can say! For lo! in life's duwfl it was given To life to be glad of your grace. And earth is an echo of heaven In the light of your eyes and your face! - F. L. Stanton. Poets often affect carelessness in their garments for the same reason that I 1 ramps travel in freight ears. ' I | fefjgf :: §| j The Did Time Christa HF F. Powell, in N. \. Independent.) The Christmas of 1847 was a simple and tender affair, consisting mainly of Santa Claus and well-filled stockings. The presents were handsome, with a few added sweetmeats and toys. Think of the changes! An orange was a sight more rare than custard-apples are now. A banana I do not remeinlier having seen before 1850. Farmers used olu flint locks to shoot the squirrels for a Christmas pie—or what we used to call the “Queen’s arms.” These were Brit ish muskets, captured during the revolu tion. The first breech-loader was pa tented in 1830, hut they were not in common use. We went in thick stoga 1 boots because rubbers were barely known, and I do not think a rubber boot was in existence. What we had were a. sort of Indian moccasin imported from Brazil, capable of wearing for ten years. The first Goodyear patent was taken out in 1885. About me same time the first machine was put in operation for mak ing pins, while for pens we used goose quills or even hen-quills. It was, how ever, a peculiarly inventive period. AH the knick-knacks that are most familial to us were then novelties and costly. A bunch of pins in a Christmas stocking was not despised. If a box of matches could have been hud it would have been a welcome gilt from Santa Claus. The stockings were hung up by the huge old fire-place, where great logs burned and coals were covered up at night. In rural sections we had never seen a scuttle of coal, and had only heard of it as an effort to burn black stone?. Whale-oil lumps marked the advanced line or progress in lighting streets and houses. There was no dream of canned fruits and cocoa and chocolate, although we had plenty of tea and coffee. It was impossible to give a sewing machine or a photograph. Daguerreotypes were no L devised until 1839, and the first were taken in America at least a year later. I remember when Avery, who took the first sun picture west of Albany, carried it up and down the streets, flushed with his first success, and ran into house af ter house to exhibit it. It was a ghostly affair, to be squinted at and guessed out. but after all it was the beginning of a great art. The presents were fuller of affection because homemade. The whole family ! had been at work for weeks planning and executing little gifts. The boys made boxes and toys and band sleds. The women made stocking and mufflers and dainty caps, while the girls made slippers, and the fathers made shoes. A home was a word that meant great things in those days; for both the wo men and the men had trades, ns well as a knack and a knowledge of laud cul ture. It is interesting to note that some ol’ our best observers and social students prophesy a large reaction from our pres ent fast and uneasy age to the quiet and calm of those earlier days of the cen ‘ fury. Os course we should not give tip 1 our inventions; but with them* we may : lose our boyish excitement, and react to another period of reconsideration. This lias been the history of the past. Eras of restless aggression have been fol ! lowed by periods of reflection. Me could do all that is necessary for a happy so cial State with less of wear, and less of , ' nerve friction. Will electricity help us j in this direction? We believe it will. The most delightful part of these ohl- I time holidays was the sports, pure and ( -jRf A V)f ?S dr ||fl|§ Hail, merriest day of the year that is dying, That blooms ’mid the pearl of its Boreal snows, That offers rare joys from moments swift-flying, And Love’s fairest blossoms o'er life’s pathway strews. Young hearts, how they thrill at its long wished-for dawning; What gladness irradiates cabin and hall: While flute-throated bells through the frost-jeweled morning, Chime transcriptions old that to worshippers call. And there’s laughter and music and little feet dancing, And for dear ones returned a kiss warm and sweet, Cheeks burning like roses and liquid eyes glancing, As lovers long sundered with throbbing hearts meet. While out in the streets the white snow-flakes are falling, And sleighs swan-like glide to the jingling of bells; And snow-balls are flying aud blithe voices calling, While crackling explosion the gay tumult swells. And oh, the great stores, how they pulsate and glitter With gorgeous assortments of marvellous toys— Big dolL that chirp “Mamma,” and wee birds that twitter, And wake in the bosom of childhood rich joys. And children of larger growth feel their hearts swelling, Over gifts that have come from far-away home; And sad eyes grow wet with wistful tears welling, As love deathless follows wherever they roam. In ivy-veiled churches there are worshippers kneeling ’Neath glories dim-gleaming through casements so tall; And hosannas blend with the organ’s deep pealing— Hearts’ incense ascending to Jesus, their all. And so the day wanes, and night's shadows fall darkling, While redly the fire-phantoms dance 011 the wall, As dimpled tots gather with faces all sparkling To romp round the Yule-tree full-laden and tall. Oh, the wonderful fruitage its branches arc bearing, Rare treasures that*into each tiny hand falls, And they linger a-near their guiless joys sharing. Till from the dim sleep-land King Morpheus calls. . Lo, whose empty sleigh o’er tin* tree-tops goes speeding. Its apple-cheeked driver with board floating white, Chuckling low as tli’ antlered steeds, now fast-receding, Quit earth l’or a season and vanish in night. Raleigh, N. C. free from every guile. Our evenings were always at home; and in the one great family room, which was the dm ingroom and the kitchen in one, ive gavli ered before the huge tire of logs and had that sort of unadulterated fun which can he had only where the whole fam ily is united. We parched our home grown corn, and made our candy of molasses, and played simple games, in which no one joined more heartily than the father and the mother. The even ings lasted from caudle ligiuiug until nine o'clock. No child was ever per mitted to absent himself from the house hold after dark without the direction of his parents. But after nine o’clock no one ever thought of being absent. Then we were all in our beds. If we react, to these or to simpler met bods of liv'ng it will be by a resurrection of more home life. Let us ace to it that he farm home is more of a home, and the farm house family more self contained. The better half of the family never knows quite as much about how the other half lives ns she would like to' know'. SECTION ONE-PAGES I TO 8. PT> <f FIVE CENTS. 1 rrrrr rrr. ' 1 '■ " r ' l —r? STIiANGE, PASSING STRANGE Iwgiit Recent Examples of Promiscuous * Osculation by American Women. 1. Lieutenant Hobson, the hero of the Merrimae. kissed by Miss Emma Arnold at Long Beach. 2. Admiral Schley, after the destruc tion of Cervera’s fleet, embraced and kissed by two unknown women at Washington. Osborn Deignan, of Hobson's Mer rimae expedition, hugged and kissed by a mob of girls at Stuart, lowa. 1. Mrs. Minnie Seligman (Mrs. Itobelt L. Cutting) wanted to sell a real stage kiss, for charity. to the higliest bidder, at St. Louis. Mo. 5. Young women of the De Angelis Opera Company, lured young Oeignau behind the seenes last week and smother ed him with kisses. it. Admiral Schley kissed at Frederick. Md.. by two dozen women. 7. Attempt to kiss Admiral Sampson at the railroad station, Jersey City. 8. Admiral Cervera surrounded and kissed by a bevy of pretty girls, at Nor folk. Ya.
The News & Observer (Raleigh, N.C.)
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Dec. 25, 1898, edition 1
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