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ty , ' , T was a stormy
3 , f- : ' % , Christmas Eve and
ttcf the little town of
. a : :7 : , Tromsoe WaS corn-
"rxKy' s < : 'r rf : f letely enveloped
, I . , : . in the ermine mann -
/ ( % , r n ; ; . „ , . ; , i , , tie of mid-winter.
r Snow hacl been fall-
. lng all dt. , , and as
the night ap-
f r r proaCherl , large flakes were still being -
ing driven hither and thitlier by the
furious wind , which howled and roared
in the chimneys , shook the carefully
closed windows , and died away in the
distance like the last despairing wail
of a lost oui.
1n ore of the most miserable houses
of a wretched street , in the worst quarter -
ter of the town , a woman by the dim
light of a flickering candle watched beside -
side the sick-bed of her last remaining
child. She was weeping bitterly , but
strove to stifle her sobs for fear of disturbing -
turbing the fitful slumbers of the suf-
ferer. As the furious tempest shook
the dilapidated tenement , she trembled
r , as if she already felt the dread presence
of the Angei of Death. No Christmas
fagot blazed on the miserable hearth ,
the happy voices of laughing children
and kind friends had forr her long been
stilled , and the cold , sorrow , and poverty -
erty which reigned within seeniecl but
a countenpart of the desolation without.
Behind the lowered curtains of the bed
could be heard from time to time the
short cough and labored breathing of
the child , who at last , sudd3nly awaking -
ing , raised herself on her elbow , and
] oohed .across the room , where , as in a
vision , she again beheld the Christmas
trees of her earlier years , with their
accompaaimeuts of tapers , bon-bons ,
toys and golden stars , gleaming amid
the darkness of that somber room. She
: . r was a young girl of twelve or fourteen
years cf age , and the sweet , pale face ,
although in the last stage of emacia-
tion. still retained traces of delicate
youthful hPauty.
With her dying voice she still continue -
tinue ; ] to talk of tlhe fete-days.of long
ago , when she was a rosy , healthy little
child , and liar brothers and sisters ,
Eric , John , Anton , Hilda and Bertha ,
crowded around her with their pretty
Christmas offerings ; when her father
, . danced her bn his knee , and her mother
' sang sweet hillabys by her cradle.
These days seemed far away. Eric and
her father had perished in a shipwreck ;
then , one by one , the others had followed -
lowed , till death had left behind only
the grim sisters , sickness and misery ,
as the sole companions of thewidow and
her child.
The vlvhl remembrance of past happinesS -
: , pinesS bad brought a strange light into
Greta is eyes , and soon these childish
reminiscences gave place to hope. She
spoke of the spring which wood : bring
back the birds and flowers , and in giving -
ing life to all else would surely not entirely -
tirely forget heiself. :
"You know , mother , the doctor said
that , when the roses came , my sufferings -
( ings would be over. Will the roses
soon be in bloom ? "
"I have seen some already , " replied
the mother"the ; governor's wife and
daughter had them in their hair when
I saw them get into the carriage , but
those roses. I think , only grow in the
hot-houses of the rich. "
There was silence , broken only by
Greta's short cough. All at once , carried
away by one solitary fixed idea , such
as so often haunts the brain of the sick ,
she began to talk again about the roses ,
to pine sorrowfully forr their possession -
- sion , and by alternate beseeching , coax-
ing and commanding she at last induced -
duced her mother to go out in search of
some for her.
The poor woman left the bedside possessed -
sessed with the one desire. of pacifying
her child , and traversed the streets with
weary steps , debating in her mind what
excuse she Would make on her return
for not having procured that which she
felt was entirely beyond her reach.
With bowed head and sorrowful heart
she kept repeating to herself the words
of the physician , so full of hope for
Greta : "At the coming of the first
roses she would suffer no more ; " and
well as she guessed the mournful mean-
lug of tile prophecy , she could not help
being inspired forr an instant by that
spirit of hope which buoyed up her
child. Quickening her steps , she took
the road as if by a sudden inspiration
toward the governor's house , hesitated
as she reached the brilliantly lighted
] Mansion , 1)ct at last , taking courage ,
knocked timidly at the door , which was
immediately opened by a man-servant.
"What do you want , my good woman -
man : "
"To speak to Madame Paterson. "
"I cannot disturb madame at such an
hour of the night. "
" 0h ! I implore you'let nie see her ! "
The servant repulsed the poor
mother , and was about to shut the door
in her face when Madame Paterson and
i her daughter , with roses in their hair
and on their bosoms , crossed the hall ,
paused to question the servant , and
then approached the widow , who briefly
and tearfully told her pathetic story.
" 0 , madame ] 0 , mademoiselle ! I
implore you to give me one rose , only
one , for my dying child ! God , who gave
His son for the redemption of the
world , will reward you. "
Madame Paterson shrugged her
shoulders with a mocking laugh , and
passed on. Her daughter , the brilliant
Edele , remarked that her father did not
buy roses for their weight in gold , to
throw them away upon street beggars.
The door closed , and the woman
trrned toward her home. On passing
the Church of Sainte-Britta , she perceived -
ceived the clergyman's wife laying
large bouquets of roses on the altar , full
blown blooms of rich red , as well as
branches of exquisite buds of blush ,
orange and pink.
Tile lady formed a sweet picture as
she bent over and arranged the floral
treasures sent her by a rich parishioner
of iher husband's. Her blue eyes spar-
hied with delight , and her voice was
soft and silvery. She was the mother of
six lovely children , and the widow felt
that she would surely pity her in her
bitter grief. Full of these hopeful
thoughts , she entered the church , approached -
preached the altar , al 1 preferred her
modest request for one rose wherewith
to gladden the eyes of her dying child.
Madame Neils , although by no means
devoid of kindly feeling , was proud in
her own way , and had determined that
Sainte-Britta should be the best decorated -
rated church in the town. In what she
mistook for pious enthusiasm , she forgot -
got that the only true temple of God is
the human heart-that a charitable
notion is more precious in his sight than
the costiest : earthy offerings which can
be laid on his material altar. In the
ardor of her outward devotion , .she forgot -
got that Christ had himself declared"In-
asmuch as ye have done it unto one of
the least of these my brethren , ye have
done it unto me , " and in her mistaken
zeal she avowed that it would be little
less than sacrilege to rob the altar of
God of even one fair blossom. Upon so
CHRISTMAS .
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great and joyful a festival as Chit -
mas , it showed , she added , a lamentable
lack of religious feeling to prefer such
a request. She pointed out that poverty -
erty , sickness and death were sent by
God himself , and that the true Christian -
tian should submit to them , not merely
without a murmur , but joyfully , kissing
the rod in remembrance of the gracious
declaration , "As many as I love I rebuke -
buke and chasten. " She offered to
call on the following day for the purpose -
pose of exhorting Greta to submit to
the will of God with entire resignation.
The mother had now lost all hope ,
and was returning to her home in a
still more desponding frame of mind
than that in which she had quitted it.
She walked on as in a dream , scarcely
noticing the fast falling snow , while
longing with an intensity bordering on
agony that she might have been able
to procure even a few common flowers
for her Greta. But none were to be
found. Even the snowdrops hid themselves -
selves in the bosom of the earth , and no
primrose nor violet would be seen for
months. Thus sorrowfully musing ,
she continued her walk , and in a few
minutes would have reached her miserable -
erable home , when by the light of her
lantern she saw a few green leaves
peeping from the foot of a hedge which
enclosed a garden in the neighborhood.
Stooping down , she scraped away the
snow with her hand. Yes , there were
leaves , large and lustrous , under which
she found a few green blossoms , some
full blown , others in bud , but all pale ,
small and without color , perfume or
beauty.
" Ah ! " though she , "as there were no
roses to be procured , these little flowers
have been sent that my child may be
spared the pain of knowing that there
are hearts so cold and hard that no
woes of others can soften them , and
who care for no sorrows except their
own ! "
As she hastened onward , the deep-
toned bell struck tike Ihour of midnight
and the joyous Christmas chimes broke
on her ear. Kneeling reverently on the
snowy ground , the mother's heart went
up in gratitude , and she prayed the All-
Merciful One to look with pitying eyes
on her sweet and cherished Greta ,
pressing the humble flowers to her
bosom. In another moment , she had
risen and passed onward with her
treasure.
As she drew back the curtain to osier
the dark leaves and little green bics-
soms to her darling , she made a discovery -
ery wilicll startled her. They had
given place to large , exquisite white
blooms tinged with a delicate pink.
"Roses ! roses ! " cried Greta , " 0 ,
mother , who gave them to you ? "
"It was a Christmas present , " replied
the astonished mother.
At the sight of these lovey : Christmas
roses , the dying girl bowed her head ,
and softly kissed each precious blos-
som. Then she fell back on herr pillow
with a sigh.The light that was never
on land or sea" came into the beautiful -
ful blue eyes , and her lips half-opened
with a radiant smile. The prophecy of
the doctor was fulfilled. The roses had
appeared , and her sufferings were
ended. Her pure young spirit had
passed upward in one ecstatic burst of
love and thanksgiving.
Since that time ( long ago ) the plant
which grows under the hedges , beneath
the snows of winter , has continued to
produce beautiful white blossoms and
retained the name of "The Christmas
Rose , " which was given to it by the
good women of Tromsoe.
The Fate of a Gift.
On Christmas morning I gave her ,
With a reckless impulse , my heart.
The gift had a loving savor ,
And she took it in kindly part.
But it was a present and , therefore ,
I'm afraid it lies on the shelf ;
It. was something she didn't care for ,
And something I wanted myself.
, , , , _ .
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XMAS DECORATIONS.
Wo Ilaro Copied tlto Customs of Son-
CItrietian Countries.
Among the votaries of the early
Druids there was a superstition that
the houses should be decorated with
evergreens in December , in order that
the Sylvan spirits might enter them
and thus be kept free from the blast
of the cold North wind and the frost ,
until a milder season renew the foliage
of their usual haunts. The Christmas
tree is really- from Egypt , where the
palm tree puts forth a branch every
hnontlh , and where a spray of this tree
with twelve shoots on it , was used in
Egypt at the time of the Winter solstice -
stice , as a symbol of the year com-
pleted.
Who does not know the poem beginning -
ginning
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall ,
The holly branch shone on the old oak
wall.
Years ago over every nlans door in
England hung a sprig of mistletoe at
this season. There still hovers a mystic -
tic charm about the mistletoe , and
many a girl now , with a thrill of expectancy -
pectancy , places a branch of it under
the chandelier or over the door. According -
cording to a former belief , when a
girl is caught and kissed under a
mistletoe a berry must be picked off
with each kiss , and when the berriess
have all been plucked the privilege
ceases.
Among the ancient Britons the
mistletoe that grows. on the oak tree
was the kind held in favor. Because of
its heathen origin it is not used often
in church decorations , a fact which is
referred to by Washington Irving in his
"Bracebridgc Hall , " where he has the
learned parson rebuke the unlearned
clerk for this very thing.
In Germany and Scandinavia the
holly or holy tree is called Christ's
thorn , because it puts forth its berries
at Christmas time , and therefore is especially -
pecially flitted forr church decorations.
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With its glossy , dark leaves and bright ,
red berries , it is an attractive decoration -
tion foi the house.
The Jews used to decorate at their
Feast of Tabernacles with evergreens
and flowers.
The laurel was used at the earliest
times of the Romans as a decoration for
all joyful occasions , and is significant
of peace and victory.
In some places it is customary to
throw branches of laurel on the Christmas -
mas fire and watch for omens while the
leaves curl and crackle in the heat and
flame.
Tile evergreen tree is a symbol used
as the Revival of Nature , which as-
tronot nically signifies the return of the
Sun. IIung with lights and offerings ,
the tree has for centuries been one of
the principal characteristics of Christ-
mastide.
The Tr rnp's Christmas.
"Silas , " said Mrs. Ulogue , wiping her
tear-dimmed eye with the corner of her
gingham apron , "this is the anniversary
of the day our son William disappeared
from home after you reprimanded him
for staving out late o' ' nights playing
1)001 or something. " '
"Yes , " assented her husband , sharp-
cuing the carver preparatory to dissecting -
secting a nicely browned turkey. "It is
exactly ten years since he went away ,
anti without just cause , too. "
"But don't your think you were a
little hard on him , Silas ? It was only
o'clock in the morning when he came ,
home , and boys will be bays. "
'I-Ie made a mistake in goin' away , "
replied Silas , clipping of ? a wing : "an'
I guess no one knows that better than
William by this time. "
"Maybe so , but I had a strange dream
about our absent boy last night , and
something tells me that he is coming
home , like the prodigal son , and I have
put an extra plate on the table , at the q
place where he always sa---- . But
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Aunt-So Xmas Day is your birthday , Harold. What are you goingito'have7 n
Harold-Well , mamma said I can have 'either a party or a Xmas-tree. . 1
Aunt-And which did you choose ?
Harold-Oh , . a party , of course-because I can't hang girls on a tree : .
- - - - - ' -
hark ! Some one has entered the gate.
It is-it is our son Wi ] dam ! A mother's
instinct is never wrong. Yes-I recognize -
nize his footsteps. 011 , we shall have a
real merry Christmas once more ! "
And Mrs. Ulogue , trembling like an
aspen , sprang from her seat and quietly
opened the door. A rough-bearded
seedy-looking man stood on the thresh-
ol(1.
"Oh , William , my son. " cried Mrs.
Ulogue , tlu ouving her arms around the
stranger and almost dragging him into
the house , "you have come home at last.
I knew you would. T'is is indeed a
merry Christmas. "
" 'Souse me , ma'am , " returned the
stranger , struggling to free himself
from the affectionate embrace of tile
woman. "Me name's not William , an'
I ain't nobody's son. My parents passed
in their checks afore I had time to get
on speakin' 'terms with 'em , an' I'm a
wanderin' horphan ,
"Me name's Henry Tennyson Naggs ,
but me pards call me 'Skinny the
Tramp' fer short. But I saes how
you've got a vacant cheer at the festive
board , an' I don't mind bcdn' your son
pro ten , as the Latin sharps sez , specially -
cially as I left home without dinin' . "
"Here , Tige ! " called Silas , opening a
( leer leading into the kitchen ; and as a
dog as large as a new-born calf sprang
into the room , Skinny the Tramp made
a hasty exit. As he passed through tha
yard he absent-mindedly picked up a
new hatchet , which he sold at the next
village for the price of five beers.
So the tramp had a merry Christmas
after all.
Ttlilir B Cliristniae.
It was eary : Christmas morning , anti
the streets were empty. A boy with a
bib turkey knocked at the kitchen door
of a large , pleasant house , anti while
lie was talking with the cook , cold ,
homeless little Tabby Tiptoes slipped in
between his heels so softly that nobody
saw her. "Good ! " she thought , "Now
I can get warm ! "
She patted lightly up-stairs on her little -
tle velvet paws , and found herself in a
snug and cozy room. A bright lire
snapped in the grate , and beside it hung
a small stocking , crammed full front
top to toe.
Tabby was so pleased with her warm
quarters that she turned a somersault
on the soft rub. Then she played that
the toe of the stocking was a mouse.
She caught it with herr sharp claws , and
gave it a little pull.
But the stocking was overloaded already -
ready , and down it came on the hearth.
The checkers and dcminees and sugarplums -
plums rolled to every-SiIC.
Peer Tabby just had time to hide in
the empty stocking before Ncddy
rushed into the room.
"Why , mamma ! " he called , "Santa
Claus must have dropped my stocking ! "
Then he put his hand into it. " A live
kitten ! " he shouted again. "Oh , how
did Santa Caus : know ! That was just
what I wanted ! "
And indeed , of all his pretty presents ,
Neddy liked little pussy best.
A Mint.
I wish you a merry Christmas !
Let's try while we're repeating
The dear oid-fashioned gr3eting ,
To add a kind , unselfisin act.
And make the wish a blessed fact.
'rho Stars.
Upon the night's black stem , behold
A million shining buds unfold
Anti light her garden's azure lawn
Where walks the moon from dusk to
dawn.
The Cliristtnas Tree.
Only a star ! a shining star ! x. .
More glorious than.our pianets'are ,
But watched by wistful eyes and.bright , 1
I
And longing hearts that wondrous I r
night. I )
Only a manger , shallow-thronged , .
That to some public inn belonged ,
, r
Where sweet breathed cattle quietly I
For midnight slumber bent the knee.
Only the light of tapers small ,
Thhat on the tender faces fall , .
Two tender faces-one divineI ' ,
) That still through all the centuries
shine
From palace walls , from thrones of
gold. ' '
From churches , shrines ; cathedrals old , '
\Vllere the grand masters of-their art
wrought faithfully with hand and I
heart.
I'
Only a babe ! in whose small hand '
r
Is seen no sceptre of command , , ' r
1
But at whose name , with Freedom's
sword ,
Move the great al'nies of the Lord.
I
Only a cross ! but oh , what light ;
I
Shines from God's throne on Calvar y 's d
height , . I
t
His birth , His , life , the angels see ,
Written on every Christmas tree. I
-i4I. A. Denison. _ 4
1
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The Yule Log. ' ,
A custom at one time prevalent in
England , and still observed in some of
,
the northern districts of the old coon- I )
try , is that of placing an immense log
of wood-sometimes the root of a great ' ! 1
tree-in the wide chimney-place. This I
log is often called the yule log , and it (1
was on Christmas Eve that it was put { .
1
on the wide hearth. Around it would
gather the entire family , and its entrance - 1
trance was the occasion of a great deal '
of ceremony. There was music and rejoicing - '
-
joicing , while the one authorized to ,
light it was obliged to have clean a
hands. ,1
It was always lighted with briinil
left over from the log of the previous i 1
year , which had been carefully pre- f'
served for the purpose. A poet sings of I t !
it in this way : '
With the last yeere s brand i ) 1
Light the new block , and ,
For good success in his spending , ; '
On your psaltries play. ,
That sweet luck may '
Come while the log is a teendin .
The Yule log was supposed to be a 1
protection against evil spirits , and it
was considered a bad omen if the fire , i
went out before the evening was over. t
The family and guests used to seat
themselves in front of the brightly
burning fire , and many a story and mer t
ry jest went round the happy group. i ,
I
Merry Christmas. tr.
Christmas ought to be the merriest
day of the year. From the busy man to
the little child , let the cheerful greeting -
ing , "Merry Christmas , " ring out gladly
to all. Christmas is the time when ,
after weeks of expectancy , Santa Claus
appears to the dear children. The time
has come for the hanging up of stockings - '
ings , and many bright eyes willr Iook
on Christmas morn up the chimney for I I
a glimpse of Santa Claus "and his eight i "
tiny reindeer. " . The days will come
when belief in the ben utifuI myth of '
Santa Claus will disappear , but let it
last so long as it can and gladden the. 1
hearts of happy childhood. '
SOME CHRISTMAS WAITS. + ,
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