520 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
[Decembbb, 
Tb« Eu«l ol* I lie Year S«on at Hand. 
Christmas. 
There is something sad in the thought that 18S0— 
a year so full of hopes fulfilled and youthful joys realized 
—is soon to take its place among the eighteen hundred 
and seventy-nine of its fellows in the silent halls of his¬ 
tory and memory. The months of winter, with the skat¬ 
ing on the pond, and the coasting on the hillside, went 
all too quickly away, and the warm days of spring— 
lengthening, lazy days—came with the singing of happy 
nest-building birds, almost before we thought the song¬ 
sters had reached their southern winter homes. With 
the heated days of May many a boy sought the shade 
of the leafy trees by the side of the pond or stream, and 
as he drew, with shouts of triumph, the shining, finny 
swimmers from the water, he thought, if he did not say: 
Would that springtime might always last, and fishing and 
fun be my lot forever 1 But the days of May soon length¬ 
ened into June, and the bright spring 
flowers gave place to fields of wav¬ 
ing groin, and the planted crops were 
hoed—perhaps somewhat reluctantly 
—until the monotony of the corn-field 
was broken by the washing and shear¬ 
ing of the sheep. Then came July— 
hot July, with its memorable day, 
“ The Fourth ” ; the day when, of all 
the year, the “YoungAmerica” that 
is in one, bursts forth with trumpet 
blast, and the booming of the sunrise 
gun. This hot month ranks far above 
the hotter one that followed slowly on 
her track — the sultry August — be¬ 
cause it is the one in which onr land 
was made free. All through the sum¬ 
mer the gardens furnished their abun¬ 
dance of fine fruits—fruits that grew 
close upon the ground—fruits that 
hung in clusters on curved and briery 
shrubs—fruits that were knocked from 
the favorite orchard trees before they 
are half-way ripe—and fruits that 
grew, but few know where, save the 
foraging child who found them. But 
when the year began to ripen into 
the mellow autumn, the boys and 
girls as well, wished that the days 
would not shorten as they so evidently 
were doing. There were nuts to gather 
on the hillsides—the chestnuts, shag- 
barks. butternuts—all this prepara¬ 
tion for winter takes time.and it needs 
to bo done early, or the squirrels 
and other unfriendly animals will 
strip the trees. Fall is also the sea¬ 
son of the fairs: and with the fruits, 
the rich tints of the autumnal forests. Thanksgiving 
Day, the cider casks bursting full of amber sweetness, 
the golden pumpkins, and the staring and startling lan¬ 
terns which are made from them, all thes", and a thousand 
other attractions made the dying of tin year rather a 
happy “ passing away ” after all. The reality of the sit¬ 
uation did not come upon the youthful mind until it 
awoke to the cold and chill of some dreary December 
morning, when all is dead without, and there is not any 
too much life within. It is then that the “Melancholy 
days have come, the saddest in the year.” It is then 
that the white covering that nature has put on suggests 
the snowy locks of old age, and that a funeral must soon 
be held, and the aged year laid away in a silent grave, 
beneath the frozen clods and the still colder snow. But 
the picture of the end of the year is not so sad as this ; 
it has a brighter and more cheerful ending in many a 
household: in fact, it is a happy, joyful gathering to see 
“ the Old Year out and the New Year in.” I think no 
one will dispute me when I say that into the last fort¬ 
night of the old year and running over into a few days 
of the new, there is crowded more sport, fun, real solid 
enjoyment for both young and old, than any other equal 
period of the year. This is the time of the Holidays, 
and includes that day of all days—Christmas: the anni¬ 
versary of that bright dawn in the East when all creation 
rejoiced and “ the morning stars sang together.” While 
this day is “ yet afar ofl\” thousands and thousands of 
people, old aud young, are laying their plans and mak¬ 
ing preparations for Christmas. I can not go into any 
details of what this one of the family, or that of some 
other family, is doing for Christmas, only it may be said 
that many bands are active over work that is hid from 
the public gaze. “It is more blessed to give than to re¬ 
ceive but to surprise in the bestowing of gifts is better 
than all. It has grown to be a sort of second nature for 
young and old of all classes and conditions of life, to be 
for weeks before Christmas, so to 
speak, “half blind” to the move¬ 
ments in the family circle. The 
mother has her time by' herself, the 
grandma is unusually busy and un¬ 
commonly quiet; and as for the chil¬ 
dren they arc full of sly talk and fear¬ 
ful that the “ cat will get out of the 
bag.” It is a sort of relief to have 
Christmas day come after all this 
suspense. The artist has let us into 
the “secret chambers” of a single 
home, and it is the type of many— 
would it were of all homes in the laud. 
The *■ old folks” are divided from the 
children—it may be by a single thin 
wall, and each group is busy arranging 
the presents for the other. There ia- 
the center-table, spread with the toys 
and the things that make the little 
ones rejoice; the warm-hearted father, 
the careful, loving mother, and the 
deeply interested, good grandma. In 
the other room there is perhaps more 
wondering, as for example, how papa 
will like this 1 or what will mamma 
think of that I as the children discuss 
the merits of the things which their 
saved money has enabled them to 
gather together. Christmas is a more 
novel thing to them than to the older 
members of the family, and therefore- 
has a freshness which gives vent to 
smothered laughter and subdued fun. 
I like to see this spirit of giving 
early developed; it unfolds the better 
nature of the children, and makes 
them have a generous feeling and regard for others. If 
Christmas had no loftier meaning, and led to no higher 
and nobler thoughts and actions, than that of pure and 
simple giving—giving for the good feeling that it brings 
to the one who receives, and the double blessing to the one 
that bestows—it has not become a holy Holiday in vain. 
I should like to be present when this family, now sepa¬ 
rated, shall be united, and there is no doubt but what 
the reunion will be a pleasant—a joyous one, and the old 
and young together will have a happy day. The three 
generations will have a common bond of sympathy, and 
all hearts will beat to the sweet music of love—a music 
that it is hoped will never cease to roll. May tho good 
Father bless them all, and may the day be a merry, merry 
Christmas. That this may l, - the portion of every one of 
my young readers, is the wise of your Uncle Hal. 
THE OLDER MEMBERS OF THE FAMILY PREPARING FOR THE CHILDREN’S CHRISTMAS. 
THE YOUNGER MEMBERS AND WHAT THEY HATE PROVIDED FOR THE COMING HOLIDAY. 
