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VOLUME XXYL NUMBER 37.
COLUMBUS, NEBRASKA. WEDNESDAY. DECEMBER 25, 1895.
WHOLE NUMBER 1,337.
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''HIS ARCTIC REGIONS.
A CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL AMID
ICELAND SNOW.
low the Krabtii ml th. rirr Faped!
ttoe PMMd th. Daj TmkUw Um
'ULm Aacrlcu Msiim-Leatk t
Qalt th. Dlaaer Table.
RS. PEART, wht
spent so Busy te
dious moatbs with
her husband in tke
i Arctic regions, was
i determined that tke
holidays shoals' net
pass her bynnno
ticcd; aa so.
though c was liv
ing la' the most
primitive fashion.
with a frozen world all about her, ska
"made hearty though simple prepara
tion for festivity.
They spent, she says, a day in deco
rating the interior of their Arctic home
Tor the Christmas and New Year festivi
ties. In the larger of the two rooms
the celling was draped with red mos
quito netting. Wire candelabra and
candleholders were placed in all the
corners and along the walls. Two large
United States flags were crossed at one
end of the room, and a silk sledge flag
was put up on the opposite corner.
I gave the boys new cretonne for cur
tains for their bunks, and we decorated
the photographs of our dear ones at
home with red, white and blue ribbons.
We spent the evening in playing
games and chatting, and at midnight
Mr. Peary and I retired to our room to
open some letters, boxes and parcels
given us by kind friends, and marked:
"To be opened Christmas eve at mid
night" On Christmas day we had what we
considered the joliiest Christmas din
.ner ever eaten in the Arctic regions,
and then we invited our faithful natives
to a dinner cooked by us and served at
our table, with our dishes. I thought it
would be as much fun for us to see them
eat with knife, fork and spoon as it
would be for them to do it.
After our meal had been cleared
away, the table was set again, and the
Eskimos were called in. We had nick
names for all of them, and it was the
"Villain" who was put at the head of
the table, and told that he must serve
the company just as he had seen Mr.
Peary serve us.
The "Daisy" took my place at the foot
of the tabic, and her duty was to pour
the tea. The "Young Husband" and
"Misfortune" sat on one side, while
"Tiresome" and the "White Man" sat
opposite.
It was amusing to see these queer-
"It was amusing to see these queer
looking creatures."
looking creatures, dressed entirely in
the skins of animals, seated at the
table, and trying to act like civilized
people. Both the Villain and the Daisy
did their parts well.
One incident was especially funny.
The White Man, seeing a nice-looking
piece of meat in the stew, reached
across the table and endeavored to pick
it out or the dish with his fork. He
tvas immediately reproved by the Vil
lain, who made him pass his mess pan
to him. and then helped him to what he
thought he ought to have, reserving,
.however, the choice piece for himself.
They chattered and laughed and
seemed to enjoy themselves very much.
"Both women had their babies in the
hoods on their backs, but this did not
hinder them In the least Although at
times tho noise was great the little ones
" 6icpt through it all. The Daisy
watched the cups very carefully, and as
soon as she spied an empty one. she
would say:
"Etudo cafee? Nahme? Cafee peeuk."
(More coffee? No? The coffee is good.)
Finally at ten o'clock the big lamp
was put out, and we told them it was
time to go to sleep, and that they must
70 home, which they reluctantly did.
i-J- Meant for the Minuter.
A popular minister in Fifeshire, in
. the good old times, used at Christmas
to be inundated with hampers filled
with good things. On one occasion an
enormous turkey was sent to him by
the thoughful kindness of a neighbor
ing farmer; but as the minister's fam-
ily had already provided for the Christ-
. mas dinner, the bird was sent to the
market and sold.
A passer-by, seeing this fine specimen
of poultry, said, "What a splendid tur
key! Just the thing for the minister's
Christmas dinner!" To the minister it
was again sent.
The provident wife sent it again to
:thc market and sold it again for a
. handsome sum.
Another friend, similarly struck with
the splendid proportions of the turkey,
purchased it, and sent it to the minis
ter. The good woman, not wishing to
fly in the face of Providence, said at
last:
"It is clear that the Lord means us
to have this turkey," and with the ap
probation of the family, it formed part
' f the Christmas dinner.
Chrittmas CmstoaM.
One custom that has come to us from
across the sea is that of hanging up
stockings, on Christmas Eve. Little
children are taught that St Nicholas
brings in gifts to them through closed
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torn started from a tradition that St
Nicholas used to throw purses of money
in through the windows of poor maid
ens, so that they might hare marriage
portions.
Howison, in his sketches of Upper
Canada, says that he met oace at atid
hight on a beautiful moonlight Christ
mas Eve an Indian, wko was softly
'creeping along on the ground. Usea
being questioned.the Indian motioned to
aim to be silent and said: "We watch
to see the deer kneed; this la Ckrist
uvta Bight, and all tke deer fall mpfn
their knees to the Great Spirit nasi Mk
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T was a stormy
Christmas Eve, and
I
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.? ji i
VvVHcspletely en-eloped
V "SK ln tnc ermine man-
g&rj, tie of mid-wtnter.
" .:y" " Snow had been fall-
f ,v''" " ing all day. and as
the night ap
proached, large flakes were still bc
ius driven hither and thither 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 soul.
In one of the most miserable houses
of a wretched street, in the worst quar
ter of the town, a woman by the dim
light of a flickering candle watched be
side the sick-bed of her last remaining
child. She was weeping bitterly, but
strove to stifle her sobs for fear o? dis
turbing the fitful slumbers of the suf
ferer. As the furious tempest shook
thc dilapidated tenement, she trembled
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of the Ar.gel of Death. Xo Christmas
fagot blazed on the miserable hearth,
the happy voices or laughing children
and kind friends had for her long been
stilled, and the cold, sorrow, and pov
erty which reigned within seemed but
a counterpart 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, suddenly awak
ing, raised herself on her elbow, and
looked across the room, where, as in a
vision, she again' beheld the Christmas
trees of her earlier jears, with their
accompaniments of tapers, bon-bons,
toys and golden stars, gleaming amid
the darkness of that somber room. She
was a young girl of twelve or fourteen
years of age, and the sweet, pale face,
although in the last stage of emacia
tion, still retained traces of delicate
youthful beauty.
With her dying voice she still con
tinued to talk of the fete-days of long
ago. when she was a rosy, healthy little
child, and her brothers and sisters.
Eric. John, Anton, Hilda and Bertha,'
crowded around her with their pretty
Christmas offerings; when her father
danced her on his knee, and her mother
sang sweet lullabys by her cradle.
Those days seemed far away. Eric and
her father had perished in a shipwreck;
then, one by one. the others had fol
lowed, till death had left behind only
the grim sisters, sickness and misery,
as the sole companions of the widow and
her child.
The vivid remembrance of past hap
piness had brought a strange light into
Greta's eyes, and soon these childish
reminiscences gave place to hope. She
spoke of the spring which would bring
back the birds and flowers, and in giv
ing life to all else would surely not en
tirely forget herself.
"You .know, mother, the doctor said
that, when the roses came, my suffer
ings would be over. Will the rose3
coon 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 for their posses
sion, and by alternate beseeching, coax
ing and commanding she at last in
duced her mother to go out In search of
some for her.
The poor woman left the bedside pos
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
loses she would suffer no more;" and
well as she guessed the mournful mean
ing of the prophecy, she could not help
CHRISTMAS
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being inspired for 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, but at last, taking courage,
knocked timidly at the door, which was
immediately opened by a man-servant.
"What do' you want, my good wo-
man t
Td speak to Madame Paterson.'
"I cannot disturb madame at Buch an
hour of the night"
"Oh! I implore you, let me see her!"
Thfl servant repulsed the poor
mother, and was about to shut the door
in her face when Madame Paterson and
her daughter, with roses in their hair
and on their bosoms, crossed the hall,
paused to question the servant, snd
thn approached the widow, who briefly
and tearfully told her pathetic story.
"O. madame! O, mademoiselle! I
implore ou to give me one rose, only
one. for my dying child! God, who gave
I His mm for the redemption of the
! world, will reward you
,.., ,.
.ilcUlcKlUv. I ciicinvu
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
turned toward her home. On passing
the Church of Sainte-Britta, she per
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.
The lady formed a sweet picture as
she bent over and arranged the floral
treasures sent her by a rich parishioner
of her husband's. Her blue eyeB spar
kled with delight, and her voice was
soft and silvery. She was the mother of
six loely children, and the widow felt
that she would surely pity her in her
bitter grief. Full of these hopeful
thoughts, she entered the church, ap
proached the altar, and 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 deco
rated church in the town. In what she
mistook for pious enthusiasm, she for
got that the only true temple of God is
the human heart that a charitable
action is more precious in his sight than
the costliest earthy offerings which can
be laid on his material altar. In the
ardor of her outward devotion, she for
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
great and joyful a festival as Christ
mas, it showed, she added, a lamentable
lack of religious feeling to prefer such
a request She pointed out that pov
erty, sickness and death were sent by
God himself, a.nd that the true Chris
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 re
buke and chasten." She offered to
call on the following day for the pur
pose of exhorting Greta to submit to
the will of God with entire resignation.
The mother bad 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 them
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 mis
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.
MEMORIES.
Stooping down, she scraped awafr ike
snow with her hand. Yes, theft wett
leaves, large and lustrous, tiadef irkiek
she found a few green blossenu, seme
full blown; ethers in bud, but all pale,
small and without color, perfume or
beauty.
"Ah!" thhugh she, "as there were to
roses to be procured, these little flowers
have been sent that toy child may be
spared the pain of knowing that tkere
are hearts so cold and hard that rid
woes of others can soften them, and
who care for no sorrows except their
own!"
As she hastened onward, the deep
tbned beli struck the hour of midnight
and the joyous Christmas chimes broke
en her ear. Kneeling reverently on the
snowy ground, the mother's heart went
up id gratitude, arid 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 td offer
the dark leaves and little green blos
soms to her darling, she made a discov
ery which startled her. They had
given place to large, exquisite white
blooms tinged with a delicate pink.
"Rbses! rOses!" cried Greta, "0,
mother, Who gave them to you?"
"It was a Christmas present," replied
the astonished mother.
At the sight of these lovely Christmas
roses, the dying girl bowed her head,
and softly kissed each precious blos
som. Then she fell back on her pillow
with a sigh. "The light that was never
on land or sea" came into the beauti
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 thaUksgiving.
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.
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s
Tbe Yule Log.
A custom at one time prevalent in
England, and still observed in some of
the northern districts of the old coun
try, is 'that of placing an immense log
of wood sometimes the root of a great
tree in the wide chimney-place. This
log is often called tbe yule log, and it
was on Christmas Eve that it was put
on the wide hearth. Around it would
gather the entire family, and its en
trance was the occasion of a great deal
of ceremony. There was music and re
joicing, while the one authorized to
light it was obliged to have clean
hands.
It was always lighted with a brand
left over from the log of the previous
year, which had been carefully pre
served for the purpose. A poet sings of
it in this way:
With the last yeere's brand
Light the new block, and
For good success in his spending,
On your psnltries play,
That sweet luck may
Comc while the log is a teending.
The Yule log was supposed to be a
protection against evil spirits, and it
was considered a bad omen if the fire
went out before the evening was over.
The family and guests used to seat
themselves in front of the brightly
burning fire, and many a story and mer0
ry jest went round the happy group.
The Fat. of Clft.
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.
x The Star.
UponUhe night's black stem, behold
A million shining buds unfold
And light her garden's azure lawn
Where walks the moon from dusk to
dawn.
Tit. OUIea Christmas Time
Ail hailed, with uncontrolled delight
And general voice, the happy night
j That to the cottage as the crown
Brought tidings of salvation down.
Sir Walter Scott
XMA3 DECORATIONS.
Wa at.v. Cii tM tristMM !(
thrt.ua. tawtrte
Amoag tke votaries of the early
Druids there waa a superstition that
tke houses ikeuld be decorated with
evergreens in December, in order that
the Sylvan spirits alight 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 tke
palm tree puts forth a branch every
month, and where a spray of this tree
witk twelve shoots oa it, was used in
Egypt at the time of the Winter sol
stice, as A symbol of the year com
pleted, Who does not know the poem be
ginning
The mistletoe hung In the castle hall.
The holly branch shone oa the old oak
wall.
Years ago over every man's door In
Engladd hung a sprig Of mistletoe at
this seasoU. There still hovers a mys
tic charm about the mistletoe, and
many a girl now, with a thrill of ex
pectancy, places a branch of It Under
the chandelier or over the door. Ac
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 berries
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 hot Used often
in church decorations, ft fact Which is
referred to by Washington Irving lb his
"Bracebridge 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 es
pecially fitted for church decorations.
With its glossy, dark leave and bright,
red berries, it is an attractive decora
tion for the house.
The Jews used to" decorate at their
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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 Christ
mas fire and watch for omens while the
leaves Ctrl and crackle in the heat and
flame.
The evergreen tree is a symbol used
as the Revival of Nature, which as
tronomically signifies the return of the
Sun. Hung with lights and offerings,
the tree has for centuries been one of
the principal characteristics of Christ
mastide. Th. Tramp. Christina.
"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 staying out late o' nights playing
pool or something."
"Yes," assented her husband, sharp
ening the carver preparatory to dis
secting a nicely browned turkey. "It is
exactly ten years since he went away,
and without just cause, too."
"But don't you think you were a
little hard on him, Silas? It was only
3 o'clock in the morning when he came
home, and boys will be boys."
"He made a mistake in goin' away,"
replied Silas, clipping off 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 a extra plate on the table, at the
place where he always sa . But
hark! Some one has entered the gate.
It is it is our son Wiiiam! A mother's
instinct is never wrong. Yes I recog
nize his footsteps. Oh, we shall have a
real merry Christmas once more!"
And Mrs. Ulogue, trembling like an
aspen, sprang from her seat and quickly
opened the door. A rough-bearded
seedy-looking man stood on the thresh
old. "Ob, William, my son," cried Mrs.
Ulogue, throwing her arms around tke
stranger and almost dragging him into
the house, "you have come home at last
I knew you would. This is indeed a
merry Christmas."
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Aunt SO Xmas Day is your birthday. Harold. What are you going to have:
Harold Well, mamma said I can have either a party or a Xmas-tree.
Aunt And which did you choose?
Harold Oh, a party, of course because I can't hang girls on a tree.
" 'Scuse mc. ma'am,"
stranger, struggling to
returned the
free himself
from the affectionate embrace of the
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 sees how
you've got a vacant cheer at the festive
board, an' I don't mind bein' your son
pro tern, as the Latin sharps sez, spe
cially as I left home without dinin'."
"Here, Tige!" called Silas, opening a
door 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 the
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.
Tabby'. ChrlatniaN.
It was early Christmas morning, and
the streets were empty. A boy with a
big turkey knocked at the kitchen door
of a large, pleasant house, and while
he was talking with the cook. cold,
homeless little Tabby Tiptoes slipped in
between his heels so softly that nofiody
saw her. "Good!" she thought. "Now
I can get warm!"
She patted lightly tip-stairs on her lit
tle velvet paws, and found herself in a
snug and cozy room. A bright fire
snapped in the grate, and beside it hung
a small stocking, crammed full from
top to toe.
Tabby was so p'.eased with her warm
quarters that she turned a somersault
on the boft rug. Then she played that
the toe of the stocking was a mouse.
She caught it with her sharp claws, and
gave it a little pull.
But the stocking was overloaded al
ready, and down it came on the hearth.
The checkers and dominoes and sugar
plums rolled to every-side.
Poor Tabby just had time to hide in
the empty stocking before Neddy
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 C.'aus know! That was just
what I wanted!"
And indeed, of all his pretty presents,
Neddy liked little pussy best.
The Chrhtmu Tree.
Only a star! a shining star!
More glorious than our planets arc.
But watched by wistful eyes and bright.
And longing hearts, that wondroti3
night.
Only a manger, shadow-thronged.
That to some public inn belonged.
Where sweet breathed cattle quietly
For midnight slumber bent the knee.
Only the light of tapers small,
That on two tender faces fall.
Two tender faces one divine
That still through ail the centuries
shine
From palace walls, from thrones of
gold.
From churches, shrines, cathedrals old,
Where the grand masters of their art
Wrought faithfully with hand and
- heart.
Only a babe! in whose small hand
Is seen no sceptre of command,
But at whose name, with Freedom's
sword.
Move the great armies of the Lord.
Only a cross! but oh. what light
Shines from God's throne on Calvary's
height!
His birth, Kis, life, the angels see.
Written on every Christmas tree.
M. A. Denison.
Woaa.n Ahead Again.
The Boston Globe tells about a man
who has been shoeing horses for fifty
seven years. This is remarkable, of
course, but there is a woman up in j
Vermont who began shooing hens .
seventy years ago. j
SOME CHRISTMAS WAITS.
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Saata Claaa Visit.
It was tbe afternoon before Christ
mas, and the air was full of big, feath
ery snowfiakes. Ted and Trudle stood
at the window, watching them, and
Baby Belle sat on the floor, thumping
her rattle dolefully.
"How do you s'posc Santa Claus caa
get here in such a storm?" asked
Trudie. at which Ted's, bright face
clouded over.
"Pooh!" he said bravely, "this Isn't
much of a storm. I could go out in it
myself as well as not."
"Could you, dear?" asked bis mother,
anxiously. She had been watching the
storm herself, and with a troubled face.
"I'm afraid papa won't get home before
to-morrow, and X want some things
from the store to-night. Do you think
you could go with your sled. Teddy?"
"Why, yes," cried Teddy, delighted to
get out, and in a few minutea he was
ready to start, looking like a little
Santa Claus in his funny little great
coat and fur cap. The box on his sled
he had fixed for Baby Belle to ride in
was just the thing for parcels.
The storekeeper's eyes twinkled when
he read mamma's note, and he wrote a
f unit; liuic iiiitiavju iu uz . t,vui it.
! "I can't attend to you right away," he
said to Teddy, "would you mind run
ning over to my house with this note to
Mrs. Briggs for me?"
Teddy was an obliging little boy. and
he and Mrs. Briggs had some crullers
and cracked hickory nuts together to
pay for his tramp through the snow.
When he got back to the store all the
bundles were tucked away in the sled
box and covered with thick brown
-paper, zo the snow couldn't get through.
"Hard night for Santa Claus to get
round," said the storekeeper, pinching
the boy's red cheek. "Do you s'pose
you'll see him at your house?"
"I hope so," answered Ted, "but I've
never been able to see him."
"I saw him once," said Mr. Briggs so
berly; "when he was a little boy about
your size. He looked a great deal like
you, too."
Everybody laughed at that, and Ted
laughed, too, though he didn't know
what it was ail about.
It was harder going home than it had
been coming to the store, but Ted strug
gled on bravely, knowing every inch of
the way.
The snow came falling thicker and
faster, and that night when his mother
tucked him in bed he couldn't help say
ing: "I'm afraid Santa can't get here,
and then Trudie will be so disap
pointed." But his mother laughed and kissed
him cheerfully. "Don't worry, dear;
Santa won't mind this little storm."
And sure enough when morning came
the three little stockings hanging by
the chimney were stuffed as full as they
could hold, although the snow was piled
up over the fences and against the
windows and doors. There were
candies and nuts and raisins and great
big sweet oranges, and queer little toys,
such as Mr. Briggs kept at his store.
"So Santa Ciaus did come!" called
Trudie gleefully.
Ted looked thoughtfully for a minute;
his eyes began to dance; then he whis
pered to his mother:
"I b'lieve I know what Mr. Briggs
meant but I shan't tell Trudie."
Christmas Carols.
To have the dawn of Christmas Day
ushered in with carols and sweet music
is an observance still in existence. The
origin of carols is supposed to have
been the song which the angels sang at
the birth of the Saviour of the world
the Gloria in Excelsis the first one
ever sung, and by a heavenly host. Al
though the cource-of many Glorias, not
one has ever approached the glorious
one s'ing in the fields near Bethlehem
about twenty centuries ago.
A Hint.
I wisti jou a merry Christmar!
Let's try whi!c we're repeating
Tne !car cM-fashyjc I greeting,
To add a kind, unselfish act.
And make the wlih a blessed fact
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BUYS GOOD NOTES
III MkBCTOBBI
Lbaubcb Gsbbabd, Pros't,
B. H. Huntr, Vice Pratt,
M. Bbuoqbk, Cashier.
JOBS BTAUFTKK. Wat. BCCBKR.
L
COLUMBUS. NEB.,
BIAS AX
Mtotoi Capital if - $511,000
aa as tMnajMli wVpaayaj
0. . BBTKLDON. PreVt.
St F. n. OEHLRICH. Tic Ttm.
CLARK GUAY. Cashier.
DANIEL 8CHRA M. An't Cash
DIRECTORS.
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