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About Valentine Democrat. (Valentine, Neb.) 1900-1930 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 23, 1909)
. . . - ' . . t \ . ' 11. . - : . : _ - _ - It Wan . the Privilege of a Prlcnd. An eminent array officer has a man I servant who has been . with him a num- Jbey' of years . and who occasionally : 4 ! srJjaks his mind with a candor that , , I ! ay : he imagines is warranted by his : : . "long service. " / A friend of the officer , . I ! , who overheard the servitor's frank Y I - ness , asked why such familiarity was f , I ' , { . , ! permitted. I "Well , " said the officer , "I hardly , ; , ' look upon James as a valet , but , rathe " as a friend ; and , as you knqpr , it is a : , . friend's privilege to tell you things , f : ' about , yourself that yqu hardly like to I ; think about yourself.'V-Success Maga- # ' Eine. I f . ' : ' . 1 : f ! ' f . . - ( r , I I I I I + , . , , ' ' t - cctGuarapti . I r I : Vag-Dc . uuuerstoti It. Teacher--Clarence do Sunday School Teacher - - , . you know the meaning of the' word ' . "amen : ? " CIarence--Yes'm. It mean Litt ) : ! Clarence - . me "ring off. " \ . P&OF. MUNYON'S PHILANTHROPY" Giving to the Nation a Prize That , . Money : Cannot Buy. ' "I would rather preserve the health - of a nation than to be its ruler.- If tint/on. J This motto , written by Prof. Munyon about sixteen years ago , was the real . cornerstone of his medicine business. He felt that the people'-of the nation vere neglecting their health owing to lack of money. With the one thought in view of helping humanity , he start ed in the medicine business , paying large sums of mone/ to eminent spe , cialists for known and tried formulas been suc tnat were known to have I . cessful in curing diseases. After care- fully compounding these formulas and putting them up in a marketable con- ditionp offered them to the public for a few pennies , easily within the Teach of the poorest family. He hired eminent specialists at large salaries and offered their services absolutely free to the public to diagnose their cases and advise them whatremedies to take. ' After giVing the public all these benefits he was still unsatisfied \ and offered further to those who wl e not in reach of the offices which Jie established throughout the country ; ie advertised , asking them to write to - his specialists for free medical ex amination , and to - darr Prof. Munyon Is Still following out this policy , and . whenever he hears of a new drug or -a new formula that is more effective ! than those that he is at the time com- i * pounding , he purchases them regard- less of cost. Prof. Munyon puts up a separate cure for almost every ill , and these remedies can be had at all druggists , , mostly 25 cents a bottle. In taking these remedies , you are taking what might be called a sure thing , for he .guarantees them to produce satisfac tory results or he will refund your money. This is a remarkable man and a remarkable .institution , mani- lestly fair to all , and a firm that we do Dot hesitate to recommend to our readers. Prof. Mu yon's address is 53d and l Jefferson streets , Philadelphia ! Pa. " " t , . ' Hotme 'Numbers Changed. Opportunity had knocked at tiro dooi et the man of genius. . - "You've made a mistake . , " said the - man , recognizing him. "The rising pu- { Cilist you are looking for lives next door. " WORTH KNOWING. . t- . Simple Remedy That Anyone Can Prepare at Home. , Most ) people are ' more " or less subject l , to coughs and colds. A simple remedy that will break up a cold quickly and . ' ture any cough that is curable is made i I by mixing two ounces of Glycerine , . a I \ , ' half-ounce of Virgin Oil of Pine com- pound pure and 'eight ounces of pure Whisky. You can get these in any good dryg store and easily mix them in a , , large bottle. The mixture " } 3 highly I recommended by the Leach Chemical ] . Co. of Cincinnati , who prepare the genuine Virgin Qil of Pine com ound pure for dispensing. . , u Faith and Work . . Johnny-What would you do if you II "was out In the deep water and a great big shark was comin' right at you ? ' Tommy-I'd do a short prayer and 'I then I'd swim like the old scratch. - SORE EYES CURED. I f . , ' JEye-lmlls and Lids Became Terri- , . bI. , . . Inflamed - Was TJnahlo to Go Treatments Failed ' I About - All I' SucceHMful. j , Cuticura Proved I J " "About two years "ago my eyes got - 11 -In-such a condition that , I ' was unable I' / ' ' to go about. They were terribly In j J /1' flamed , both the balls ! and lids. I tried 1 I ' home remedies without relief. Then I j decided to go to our family physician , , I l but he didn't help them. Then I tried" , 1 . two more of our most prominent phy- /slcians , but my eyes grew continually I worse. At this time a friend of mine I I advised me to try Cutlcura Ointment , and after using it about one week my f I eyes - were considerably improved and i in two weens they were almost welL ; . ' They have never given me any trouble 1 ' eince and I am now sixty-five years" . old. I shall never fail $ to praise Cut , ; / . cura. G. B. Halsey , Mouth of Wilson , Ii ! : . . ' ya. , April 4 , 1908. " , ' I . " ; ' Potter Drug & Chem. Corp. , Sol i ' . ; . _ Props. of Cutlciira Remedies Boston. - - , a. ' . ' J ' . - . . r. ' , ' ' - / . eb e . . .rrte. . : - - . : - - : : : : , . - ? : : ; ? . . , . : ; : : - - ' , - - = - , : ; w. . . . . . ' . : - . : . . . . w. " " - , . ' - - . , - I The fedemptioD { ' , s Cfjavid' eotSotJ " , By CHARLES FREDERIC GOSS Copyriffht , 1900 , by The Bowen-Merrill Company. All Rights . Reserved . t I 1 I t CHAPTER XX. The steamer on which Corson em barked after his overland journey from New York City' to Pittsburg , had de ' scended the Ohio almost as far as Cin cinnati , before other thoughts than those which were concerned with Pe- peeta and his spiritual regeneration could awaken any interest in his : mind. ' Cincin But as the boat approached nati , the places , the persons and the incidents of his childhood world began to present themselves to his conscious ness. An irrepressible longing to look once more upon he place of his birth and the friends of his youth took pos I session of his- mind. , He found , on inquiry , that the boat was to remain in Cincinnati for sev eral hours , and that there would be time enough for him to make the jour ney to his old home and back before she proceeded down the river. He de- cided to do so , and observed with sat isfaction that those painful gropings for the next stepping " stone across the streams action which had been so persistent and painful a feature o'f his recent life- had given place to the swift intuitions of his youth. , He saw his way as he used to when a boy , and made his decisions rapidly and exe cuted / them fearlessly. The discovery : of this fact gave a new zest and hope . to life. . In a few moments after he had land ed p at the familiar wharf he was mount ed upon a fleet horse , rushing away : oyer those beautiful rolling hills which fill the riiind of the traveler with un- cloying delight in their variety , their fertility and their beauty. It was the first time since he had left the farm that his mind had been free enough from passion or pain to bestow its full attention upon the charms of Nature ; they dawned on him now like a new discovery. The motion of the horse- so long unfamiliar , so easy , so grace ful , so rhyth'mical-seemed of itself to key his spirits to his environment , for : it is an elemental pleasure to be seat ed' in the saddle and feel the thrill of power and rapid motion. The rider's ; eyes brightened , his cheeks glowed , his : pulses bounded. He gathered up the beauties of 'the world around him in great sheaves of delicious and thrill- ing sensations. Long-forgotten odors : came sweeping across the fields , rich I with the verdure of the vernal season , and brought with them season'l ' companiments'of the almost-forgotten ! past. The rich and varied colors of : field and sky : and forest fed his starved soul with one kind of beauty ; and tlie sweet sounds of the outdoor world in toxicated him with another. The low of cattle , the bleating of sheep , the crowing of chanticleers , the cackling of hens , the gobble of turkeys , the multiduninous songs of the birds en- veloped him in a sort of musical at mosphere. For the first time since his restoration to hope , the past seem ed like a dream , and these few bliss- ful moments became : a prophecy of a new and grander life. "For , if the bur den can fall off for a , single moment , why not for many moments ? " So he said to himself , as the consciousness of his past npsery and his unknown future thrust their disturbing faces in to the midst of these blissful emo- tions. The fpute ( which he had chosen did not lead to the farm house , but to the cemetery where the body of his moth- er lay wrapped\in her dreamless sleep ; that neglected grave , was drawing him to itself with a magnetic force. He who , for a year , had thought of her scarcely at all , now thought of nothing else. The last incident in her life , the face white with its intolerable pain of confession , the gasp for breath , the sudden fall the quiet funeral , his own responsibility for this tragic death-he lived it all over and over again in an instant of time as grief , regret , re- morse , successively swept his heart. Tying his horse outside the lonely burying ground , he threaded his way among the myrtle-covered graves - " to the : low mound which marked her rest- ing place , approached it , removed his hat and stood silently : reverently , by its side. There come to us all hours or mo- ments of sudden and unexpected dis- closures of the hidden meaning of life ! Such an one' ' came to David , there by that lowly grave. He saw , as in the light of eternity , the grandeur and beautj- of that character which the story ; of her sin and suffering had made him , in his immaturity , misin- terpret and despise ! He did hot com- prehend that tragic story when she told it ; it was impossible that he should , for he had no knowledge\ experience adequate to furnish him the clew. As he stood there by . her grave , measuring this deep and tragic expe- rience with his new divining rod of sympathy , there rushed upon him an overmastering desire to reveal his ap- preciation to that suffering heart be- yond the skies. ' A feeling of bitterness at his inability to do this frenzied htm ; a newrconsciousness of the irony' : of life in permitting him to make these discoveries' when they could do her no I good plunged him suddenly into a I struggle with the darker problems of I being which for a little while had I ceased to vex him.x ! "Do all the appreciations of heroism come too late ? " he asked his sad heart. "Do we acquire wisdom only when we can no longer be guided by it ? Do we achieve self-mastery and real virtue only to be despised by our l'hildrenVhere is the clue to this tangle ! Oh ! mother , mother , ifI could 'only have one single hour to ask thee what thou didst learn about this awful mystery in tlose lonely years of struggle ! If I could only tell hee , of my penitence , of my adraira- . I \ ; ' - . 'L R > . : , q l' : " , " ! . ' ' . 1 j 'tion , my love ! But it is too late - toe late. " x With this despairing : cry on his lips , , he flung himself upon the grave , bur ied his face in .the green turf and I "burst into a convulsive passion , ol tears , such' tears as pome once 01 twice , perhaps , in the lives of mosl : men , when they a/e passing through the awful years of adjustment to the incomprehensible and apparently cha otic , experiences of existence. , Like a thunderstorm , these convul sions clear the atmosphere and give relief to the strained tension of the soul. At length , when h.is' emotion had spent itself long-drawn sighs , Da vid rose in a calm and tender frame of mind , plucked a bunch of violets from the grave and reluctantly turned r away. On foot , and leading his horse , he entered a quiet and secluded path which led past the rear of the farm He had not consciously determined what he should do next ; but his heart impelled him irresistibly toward that little bridge where he had encountered Pepeeta on his return from the lum ber camp. It was at that place and that hour , perhaps , that he had passed , through the deepest experience of his whole life , for it was there that the full power of the beauty of the -woman in whom he had met his destiny had burst upon him , and it was there that for the first time he had consciously surrendered himself to those rich emo tions which love enkindles in the soul. He threw the horse's " bridle . , over the limb of a tree , leaned over the hand rail of the bridge and looked down in- to the . water. The stillness of the world , the slumber-song of , the stream 1 , the haunting power of the past super induced a mood of abstraction so com mon in other , happier days. Oblivious to all the objects and events of that outside world , he stood there dreaming of the past. , While he did so , Pepeeta , following her daily : custom , left the farm-house to take an evening walk. She also sought the little bridge. Perhaps she was' sum moned to this spot by some telepathic message from her lover ; perhaps it was habit ' tnat impelled her , perhaps it was some fascination in the place itself. She moved forward with the quiet step pecuiar to natures which are sensitive to the charm of the great ; solitudes of the world , and came noiseH- lessly out from the low buses behind the lonely watcher. As she steppod out into the road / she caught sight of the solitary figure and her heart , an- ticipating her eye in its swift recogni tion , throbbed , so violently that she placed her hand on her bosom as if to . still it. , "David ! " she said , in a low whisper. She paused to observe him for a moment a"nd , as he did not stir , began to move quietly towards him as he stood there motionless-a silhouette against the background of the darken- ing sky. She drew near enough to touch him ; but so profound was his ; reverie that he was oblivious of her ] presence. It could not have been long that Pepeeta waited , although it seem- ed ages before he moved , sighed and breathed her name. She touched him on the arm. He turned , and so met her there , face to : face. . It was an experience too deep for language , and their emotions found ! ex- pression in a single simple act. They clasped each other's hands and stood ' silently looking into each other's eyes : After many moments of silence David asked : "Why do you not speak to me , Pepeeta ? " "My : eyes have told you all , " she said. ; "But what they say , is too good to be believe ; ! ! . You must confirm their mute utterance'with a living word , " he cried. - . "I love you , love you , love you , " she replied. . : "You love me ! I bless you for it ; ; Pepeeta , but there is something' that I must know. " "What can it be ? Is not everything comprehended in that single word ? It is all-embracing as the air ! It enfolds life as the sky enfolds the world ! " "Ah ! Pepeeta , you 'loved , me. when we parted , but you did not forgive ' me ! " . She dropped her eyes. "Have you forgiven me now ? " "It is not true that I did not forgive you , " she replied , looking up at his face " again. "There has never been in my heart for a single moment any sense of a wrong which I couhl not ) ardon. It has been one of the awful mysteries of this experience e that I could not feel that wrong ! When I tried to feel it most , my heart would ' say to me , 'you are not sorry that he loved you , Pepeeta ! You would rather that all this agony should liav be- fallen you than that he should not have loved you at all ! ' It is this feel- ing that has bewildered me , David. Explain it to me. Let me know how I could have such feelings in my heart and yet be good. ' It seems as if I ought to hate you ; but , .1 cannot. I love you love you , love you. " "But , Pepeeta , if you loved me , why did you leave me ? I do not compre- . hend. How could you let me stand in the darkness under your window and then turn away from it into the awful blacknes's and solitude to which I fled ? " _ , "Do not reproach me , I thought it was my duty , David. " " 1 do not reproach you. I only want to know your inmost heart. " "I do not know ! There has : been all the time something stronger than my- self impelling me. I grew , too weak to reason. I felt that the he'art had rea- sons of its own , too deep for the mind to fathom , and I yielded "them. " . 'l was only a woman after all , David. . , . - - , , ; , " \ _ t V , _ : . . : . . - : . _ . : : . : - : . : . . : . : : _ : : : . - _ , . . , . _ - _ K _ _ _ . . . - , . . , I Love Is stronger ' than woman ! , Oh ! It was I who wronged you. I ought not to have forsaken you. Ought I ? I do not know , even now Who can tell me what is right ? Who can lead me out of this frightful labyrinth ? 1C 1 did wrong in seeking you , I humbly ask the pardon of God , and if I did wrong in abandoning you , I ask forgiveness in all lowliness and meekness from the man I wronge < ' . " "No , Pepeeta , you have never wrong ed me ; I alone have been to blame The result could not have been really different , no matter what course you took. The scourge would have fallen anyway ! All that has happened has been inevitable. Justice had to ) ' be vin dicated. If it had not come in one way , it would in another , for there are no short cuts and evasions in tragedies like this ! Every result that is attach ed to these causes must be drawn up by them like the links in "a chain , anc one ' never -knows when , , the' end has come. " His solemn manner and earnest words alarmed Pepeeta. "Oh , David , " she cried "it cannot , cannot be SQ awful. Such consequences cannot ( hang upon the deeds we com mit in the limitations and ignorance ol this earthly life. " "Forgive me , Pepeeta , I should no\ \ talk so. These are the fears of my darker moments. I have brighter 'hopes and thoughts. There is a quiet feel ; ing inr my - heart about the future thai grows with the passing days. God is , good , and he will give us strength tc meet whatever comes. We must live , , and while we live we will hope for the best. Life is a giff and it is our duty _ to enjoy it. " . "Oh ! it is good to hear you say that ! It comforts me. I thinkxit can not be possible that we should not be able to escape from this darkness ii we are willing to follow the divine light. " "I think so , too , " he said. , His words were spoken with such assurance as to awaken a vague sur prise that he had reasons which he had not told. She pressed his hands and besought him to explain. "Oh ! tell me , " she said , eagerly ; "is there anything new ? Has anything happened ? " "Pepeeta , " he answered , slowly , "we have been strangely and kindly deal ! ; with. It is not quite so bad as ii I seemed , for I. did not kill him. " "You did not kill him ! What do you mean ? " "No , it is a strange story ! I thought J had killed him. I knew murder wag ' in my heart. It was no fault of mine that the blow -was not fatal. I left him in the road for dead. But , thank God. he did not die ; he did not die , then ! " , . "He did not die then ? Have you seen him ? Is he dead now ? Tell me ! Tell me ! " - , ( To be continued. ) IIis Money. Luther M. Burbank , the , plant wiz ard of California , said . of/hooey , aprO' ' pos : of a flower that bees love : "This - flower grows abundantly n.eai Santa Barbara , and there was once a young Califoraian who often visited a leading Santa : Barbara hotel , because they have such excellent honey there -a honey the bees make from this flower. Well , -the young man got mar- , vried in due course , and 'the ' wedding trip itinerary-must include Santa Bar- 'ba 'a , so that the bride might taste this , Superb honey. But , the first r morning at , the Santa , Barbara hotel , there was no honey on the . breakfast table. The bridegroom frowned. He called the old familiar waiter over .to him : " 'Where's my honey ? ' he demanded. " ' < fcie waiter hesitated , looked awk wardly at the 'bride , then bent towards , the young man's ear and in a : stage whisper stammered : " 'Elr - ' Mamie don't work here no ' ' ' more , sir. . ' . An Elusive Menu. The opossum is good to eat , but not being dealt in by any organized pro vision company , is sometimes hard to * get. 'A tourist in Georgia , says a writer in the Washington Times , stay ed overnight at the Palace Hotel , in a little village , and expressed a desire to : taste' ' Georgia opossum. The whole opossum ' , cooked in ' genuine Georgia style , with potatoes on the' side was . placed before him. ' Two dollars extra for the possum , " said ; the landlord l , when the guest came ; to settle. "It's an outrage said the guest. S "It's according to the way you look at it , stranger , " said the landlord - ; "but it took me six nights' swamp- ; wading to catch that possum , an' when I : caught him I caught the rheumatism with him. " Uii wholesome. Medicine \lan-\Vhat is the mattei with your majesty ? 1 Cannibal King - Oh , I've an awful ' indigestion ! Medicine \Ian-W'hat have you been eating ? , Cannibal King - I have just polished off . an American : millionaire. Medicine Man - Good heavens ! No wonder you are ill ! I've told you re peatedly , to beware of'anything rich. -London TH-Bits. - Saved His Life. "I saved a beggar's life yesterday. " 1 "How ? " "I asked him what he'd do if ' I gave him a sovereign. 'Good Lor' ! he said. 'I [ should drop down dead. : So I put the - sovereign back into my pocket.- ° London Mail. \ . r They "Were Sliaily. Bung - . So you have ' succeeded in . tracing back my ancesors ? What Is ' fee ? . your Genealogist - Twenty guineas for keeping quiet about them. - Cassell'a Saturday Journal. - and self-control It is patience that the truly heroic character : is pel ' fected. - S. Smiles. f . j , ' " . ' , ) , , \ ' . : , . " ' Y ' . . . ' . ' -0 - o , : " ' . . , . . . . . ! - . . ' . \ . .y. . " : ' , j' . . . - . * , _ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - _ - _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ' _ . _ h _ _ , . . ' - - - - , . , i , . ' " RI5TMAS i ACROSTIC. ACROSTIC.I Carollers singing in morning gray ; , I Holly and ivy in brave array ; RingIng of bells in the tow'r aloft , /ncense below and a chanting soft- Wo should it be on Christmas ! 2'elling the tale of theWonderfulChild , , , Mary , his worshiping Mother mild , Angels adoring in Heay'n above Singing their praises of infinite love. So it should be on Christmas , Ever should be. on Christmas ! -Nora Archibald Smith. O . . "Sne did , " said the girl with the turquoise bossed dog collar , with an emphatic little nod. "She actually did. I de'clare I felt so ashamed of her that ' I didn't know what to do. " "I should think you would have been , " said her friend with the sable muff. "I'd have been mortified to death if it , had been a friend of mine. " "I don't see how she could have helped it myself , " admitted the girl with the turquoise bossed dog collar. "She was there when Harry brought the mistletoe and hung ; It up. And It Isn't a thing one would forget. Yes , she walked deliberately halfway across the room and stopped there. Willie called , to her , but she needn't have stopped. , N v "When Willie 'rushed up she looked just as innocent and surprised as could be. And when he put his arm around her she acted as if she thought he had suddenly gone crazy - - as if she hadn't the faintest idea of what' he was going to do. " "Well , all I can say is that I am glad she , isn't visiting with me. I wouldn't 'care if she was my cousin. " "She's awfully nice , ' though , in lots of ways , " said the girl with the dog collar. "Of course , in a small town like Wessington you can't expect so very much , but It isn't asbad - as you might think , really. : She's got some perfectly lovely clothes. When she comes down I'll get her to show them to you. "Grace had some , " said the girl with the sable muff. "The man ' she's en- gaged to brought her no end of pretty- things. But I 'think Willie ought to . ( - have known better. : " "I think so , too . , " said' the girl with the dog collar. "I suppose he thought that he had to kiss her. Did I tell you that she slapped him ? " \ ' "What did Willie do ? " I' " "He laughed. Everybody laughed. They seemed to think it was a good jok. jok.T - T. 1e girl with the sable muff looked thoughtful. "What puzzles W , " she said , "is what she did it for. What do you think ? Sh ) isn't exactly a beauty. " , " "That's what I say , " said the girl with the . dog collar. ; "I know a lot of girls there might : have been some excuse fpr. She -stood there * half a minute at least. It was so 'open. I . ' don't honestly believe , though , that I ( could have looked so unconcerned as she did. Perhaps Willie thought she didn't know what she was doing. " "That wasn't the only place . you had niistletoe hung , ' was it ? " asked the girl , with the sable muff. . "Well. I should say not / ' replied the girl with the .turquoise bossed dog . collar. "There was a big bunch in. the : cozy corner and another in the : bay window behind the curtains. No , - . . ' 4. - - , . . , - - - - - - " - - - r - - - . . . . . . . - - - - , . _ " X . J i . : , . there wasn't the least arxetJBe - for her. " ' anybody needs the "I don't see what " said tat , old mistletoe for anywaysaid , . girl with the sable muff. - _ i . . ' , " . AN UNEXPECTED GUEST. . I " The . Butterfly That Lived In . t ' , " t Christinas Tree. went - to the- Papa , Archie and May , thj . Faps as tree and Christmas woods to get a , ' wanted-a llttl * r . found just' what they pine , -bushy and straight. - ' " "There is something I must cut off , . littlar said Archie. He pointed to a t twigs and gray bunch on one of the , I pulled out hit -knife. / , his "No , no ! " cried May , holding hand. "Let it stay. It's a poor litU . # caterpillar's house. " May was right. One'Indian summer dressed in brown day a caterpillar , in tha , . walk velvet , was taking a woods. At last he came to the little , pine tree and thought to himself , the win- "What a nice place to spend y . ter ! " So he made himself a little house. He made it very tight and close , of ' fine , soft thread , and fastened up' th & 9' door. He did not leave himself * even " .sxr - = # ' ? a window to look out. If there had- r been one , how it would have surprised n : him to see that he ' and his house and . the pine tree were riding in a sleigh : with papa and May and Archie. He would have Been still more sur prised if he had seen the tree stand ing. in the parlor , covered with toy and trinkets and little candles. "It must be spring 'at last , " he- thought , for it was very warm : : in tha- parlor. So he poked a hole in the wall of his house , and out he came. But what do you think ? He was not a cater . pillar. " "Oh , see the lovely butterfiy ! " - ' criet - May. May.He ' and the- ' He flevr to the tiptop bough , children said there was nothing else - * -butterfly. . 'on the tiee so pretty as - "He must have come down the chim- : { ney with Santa Claus , " said May. And . she never- guessed that he came out of I the caterpillar's house.-Youth's Com ; . panion. , * . ! , - I \ "Snnpdrason. How to Piny : : - "Snapdragon" is a Christmas game- handed down from time immemorial. . c A broad , shallow bowl has a quantity ; of raisins in the : bottom , and over . these alcohol or brandy is poured and ignited. The dish . is then passed . . A . everybody Jn turn trying to take a. ' raisin from ' the flames. It requires , rapidity of movement and a certain ' , amount of courage to perform : this feat , , y the entire company meanwhile sinj& ! I ing the ancient song : " Here he comes with flowing bowl ; i Don't he mean . to take _ his toll ? - Snip ! Snap ! Dragon ! f , Take care you do not take too mucl . l Be you greedy In your clutch. . . . . Snip ! Snap ! Dragon ! . . . - _ " > - I ' 'Christmas Eve. ' : . ' , 1 God bless the babies' stockings . , All over the land to-night ! ' God bless the little children Asleep' In the hearthfire's light. . . . . , / ' May the baby hands be helpful / ' Let : the baby feet tread s'ure , / . Keep the sweet eyes meet for heaven . - / And the soft , lips true and pure. God bless the babies' stockings AH over the land to-night ; . , God keep the little children Asleep in the hearthfire's light. . I - Discovered. . , " . I "Papa , " said little , Petie , "doe Kriss- Kringle bring little boys toy i ahead of Christmas ? " "No , my son , " . replied the father. "Why do you ask ? " "I ' was a wonderin' , what them new toys - \ \ < IS I found away back in the loft ' i behind the trunks. " - Philadelphia North American. . . 7 ' The Simple Fact. ' StuJ'vesarGoing to turn over ' "a - new leaf , New 1 ar's day , old' man ? ' Schermerhorn-No , going to 1ura over the sa.me old leaf. - Brooklyn ' Ea - gle. 4 - . . - - - - - - = : : : - - - - - - - - - - - - . - - - - = - i . " 1 d . , , rut r , r l-i k\\ : \ G O litUc babe. O gentle babe. ' . . l ? 1 , That ha manger lies , , h .e \ A-listcning o the choral sweet > r. , + Which\.float3 a-down the skies ; . , . \ r r ; a We , through the year , who'only hear , - - , . v . , Thevorlds harsh thundering } , - . . ' j Listen' that We. dear babewith thee. . , , - I\1ay \ hear the angels sing. < , : . . . ' , . ; j- ' , : i , . " " . - * _ _ _ I - O little babe. 0 gentle ba"be , . : - a : . . 1 - ' _ 'Who lookest toward the star , I * - ' ; - * ' . , - : ' . r1 And seest when they bear their gifts t - " Those wise men from afar ' " * * * , From wandering wide , back to thy side. tt- . . ' , . t ' " . ' " r Weary and worn we flee ; ' : . . . ' " * * . ' , ' ; - ' But hearts that bleed and hands that need . . . . ; ' * * { Are aH ! we have for thee. - " * * ' - - . . . . . I . . i. . : . . _ . . ! r " : , - . . ' 4' . . P little babe. 0 gentle babe. ' - ' : - _ : \ r' I Our hearts were hard and co'd ; ; . ' . G The . star we loved . the star of fame ! . , . : c The song the song of gold. " * . " At the mangers side this Christmastide. " ' ' - ' . i We listen and we long I " . , . . . . ' - z : . .j To see that star shine from afar 6 ; { , And hear the angels tong. , . . -Rcharc1 F. Soulcr I I II s- : . s - M fJ .J . . , . . . - , ' . - ' - \ I _ ' : : - J . ' t4 -iii - . . )