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S*/>e  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
The  Pastoral  Parson  on  the  Lonely  Road 
Some  Christmas  Experiences 
A  Christmas  Story 
church  for  his  neighbor  to  take  back 
again.  Perhaps  he  had  more  roosters 
and  saw  a  little  business  ahead,  but  any¬ 
way  when  that  rooster  had  stood  quietly 
under  the  free  as  long  as  he  thought  any 
rooster  ought  to  sleep,  he  woke  up  and 
got  busy.  A  gird  from  over  Coonville 
way  had  just  finished,  "T'was  the  night 
before  Christmas,”  and  we  boys  were 
lustily  stamping  our  feet,  more  to  get  them 
warm  than  to  applaud,  when  from  under 
that  tree  came  one  of  the  lustiest  crows 
you  ever  heard  !  Well,  I  suppose  the  night 
was  holy  just  the  same,  but  it  wasn't 
near  as  silent  as  it  might  have  been. 
Fakco’s  Ten-center.  —  Speaking  of 
church  gifts  leads  me  to  say  that  I 
think  it  well  for  churches  to  keep  out  of 
(he  toy  and  trinket  line  of  presents. 
Those  things  are  better  for  the  home 
celebration.  I  remember  seeing  a  boy 
coming  from  a  Sunday  school  tree  with 
a  jack  knife  in  his  hand  and  meeting  an 
older  boy,  he  proudly  showed  it  to  him. 
large  choir’s  rendering  of  the  response 
to  the  Ten  Conmndruents,  The  Bishop 
got  wind  of  it.  He  feasted  his  eyes  on 
the  thick  bunches  of  music  in  the  hands 
of  the  singers,  he  noted  the  organist 
aglow  with  the  possibilities  of  the  hour 
— then  he  omitted  the  commandments  al¬ 
together. 
He  Broke  The  Glass. — Speaking  of 
Bishop  Williams  reminds  one  of  the  story 
of  how  he  got  some  fresh  air  one  night. 
On  this  visitation  he  was  put  up  at  a 
very  fine  home,  but  one  where  God’s  air 
and  sunshine  were  kept  well  on  the  out¬ 
side.  The  bishop  generally  took  a  lay 
reader  with  him,  and  the  two  had  re¬ 
tired  for  some  time  when  the  old  man 
broke  out,  “John,  this  room  is  stuffy  and 
close,  you  must  raise  a  window.”  But 
with  all  John’s  lifting  the  window 
wouldn't  budge.  The  bishop  tried  again 
to  sleep,  but  it  was  impossible.  After 
a  while  he  called  out  again.  “John,  if 
you  can’t  raise  the  window  you  will  have 
to  break  out  a  pane.  Take  one  of  my 
shoes  and  throw  it.  right  through.  I'll 
pay  for  it  in  the  morning."  John,  half 
aroused  from  a  sound  sleep,  reached  for 
a  shoe.  Me  saw  shining  glass  and  let 
her  drive !  There  was  a  crash  and  the 
bishop,  feeling  the  cool  fresh  air  (?)  slum- 
W.  Wiirtf  Smith  Christmas  Gift  !  ”  A  Couple  of  Coming  Maryland  Dairymen 
A  Santa  Claus  Load. — Late  one  Fall 
the  Pastoral  Parson  began  to  hear  a 
good  deal  about  a  family  that  lived  over 
on  a  cross  road  about  "five  miles  off.  The 
man  of  the  house  held  the  blue  ribbon 
for  complete  shiftlessness  and  good-for- 
nothingness.  It  was  feared  the  children 
did  not  have  enough  to  eat ;  they  certain¬ 
ly  did  not  have  warm  things  to  wear. 
The  Parson  saw  at  once  a  chance  to  have 
the  best  Christmas  of  bis  life.  He  col¬ 
lected  some  money  and  loaded  his  .sup¬ 
plies.  Mittens,  rubbers,  pencil  boxes  for 
school,  a  hair  ribbon  or  two,  little  candy 
boxes  and  oranges,  a  huge  rice  pudding. 
Then  I  put  in  a  Christmas  tree  and 
twine,  and  a  hook  to  screw  into  the 
corner  of  the  room,  to  tie  it  to. 
The  Excitement. — Could  one  ever 
forget  rounding  the  curve  of  the  road 
just  out  of  the  woods  and  seeing  that 
old  kitchen  window  solid  full  of  •chil¬ 
dren’s  faces?  The  commotion  of  that 
house  when  I  headed  old  Bill  toward  to 
the  corner  of  the  woodshed  and  hitched 
him  to  the  big  saw-horse !  I  tugged  out 
the  tree  from  the  sleigh,  and  with  a  bag 
of  stuff  headed  for  the  door.  What  a 
time  we  had  setting  up  that  tree  and 
sorting  those  gifts  to  fit  the  children ! 
And  when  all  was  done  we  put  the  big 
pudding  on  the  table  and  the  Parson 
dished  it  out  and  we  all  ate  it  together. 
As  I  lifted  up  the  hind  end  of  the  old 
flat  sleigh  to  back  around  the  old  horse, 
the  faces  of  the  children  Were  again  at 
the  window,  for  the  marvel  of  such  a 
visitor  was  greater  than  the  wonder  of 
the  tree.  As  the  sleigh  creaked  over  the 
bridge  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  and  the 
snow  dung  to  the  windy  side  of  the 
trees  as  though  to  keep  them  warm,  big 
things  seemed  bigger  and  small  things 
seemed  smaller,  all  the  way  home. 
Too  Much  Trimming. — I  remember 
nothing  that  gave  me  so  much  pleasure 
around  Christmas  time  as  trimming  up 
the  old  church.  We  used  to  go  over  in 
Mead’s  back  lot  and  get  thp  hemlock 
and  the  spruce.  Then  the  people  would 
gather  at  the  church  and  wind  the 
wreaths  and  roping.  We  boys  would 
pick  off  the  hemlock  anil  make  little 
bouquet  bunches  for  the  windows.  'What 
a  difference  between  such  trimming  and 
that  you  send  off  and  buy !  One  year 
we  outdid  ourselves.  The  chancel 
looked  really  like  a  woods.  There  was 
a  great  chandelier  made  of  strips  of 
boards  holding  many  candles,  and  each 
strip  well  covered  with  hemlock.  Way 
up  above  the  chancel  we  had  a  star  shin¬ 
ing.  made  by  putting  a  lamp  in  a  box 
and  a  cardboard  covering.  I  said  we 
“outdid”.  I  guess  we  overdid.  It  was 
to  be  a,  solemn  and  dignified  service  but 
those  caudles  were  far  too  near  to  hem¬ 
lock  trimmings  and  of  all  the  snapping 
and  popping!  Two  lengths  of  stoveppie 
ran  the  whole  length  of  the  church  and 
joined  in  one  huge  stovepipe  just  iu 
front  of  the  chancel.  Just  below  this 
junction  of  pipes  we  had  bung  a  beauti¬ 
ful  cross  of  hemlock.  It  was  too  big, 
alas,  it  was  too  heavy  !  Wo  had  just 
succeeded  in  subduing  a  dreadful  snap¬ 
ping  on  the  chandelier  when,  crash, 
bang!  soot  and  smoke!  Down  came  that 
stovepipe,  cross,  two  big  lamps  and  pret¬ 
ty  much  everything  else  in  tin*  church 
but  the  star — which  shone  serenely  on. 
Before  the  thing  was  straightened  out, 
the  Pastoral  Parson  got  so  covered  with 
soot  and  smoke  that  he  did  not  go  home 
with  his  be?t  girl  as  planned. 
The  Booster  Crowed. — Times  have 
changed  since  the  Parson  was  a  boy, 
and  no  longer,  iu  most  places,  is  the 
church  Christmas  tree  a  place  for  all 
the  gifts  of  the  whole  population  round 
about.  The  family  gifts  are  now  kept 
at  home,  where  they  belong,  but  iu  those 
days  they  were  all  aired  out  and  called 
off  by  lusty-voiced  ushers,  and  the  num¬ 
ber  of  times  Some  only-child  girl’s  name 
would  be  called  was  a  matter  of  great 
disgust  to  us  hoys  in  the  king  row.  Then 
the  nature  of  the  stuff  they  brought !  A 
flour  bag  of  apples  or  a  peck  of  early 
potatoes  were  not  so  bad,  but  when 
Deacon  Blank  wanted  to  give  bis  neigh¬ 
bor  a  Barred  Bock  rooster  he  put  it  in 
a  box,  carried  it  some  two  miles  to  the 
But  the  older  boy  handed  it  back  with 
disgust — “It  looks  like  one  of  Fargo’s 
ton-centers.”  No  doubt  it  was  worth  10 
cents,  but  when  the  boy  tried  to  cut 
hickory  skating  sticks  with  it,  it  showed 
up  badly,  aud  the  moral  impression  of 
the  Sunday  school  standard  was  mighty 
poor.  Give  less,  if  need  be  and  have  it 
good — less  gum  drops  and  a  few  more 
chocolates.  Good  religious  pictures,  ou 
cardboard,  with  parts  of  a  Christmas 
hymn  at  the  bottom,  can  be  bought  for 
a  few  cents.  Put  a  red  ribbon  in  the 
top  to  hang  them  up  by.  If  there  is 
more  money,  get  good  books.  For  en¬ 
tertainment  let  the  children  speak  the 
pieces  they  have  learned  for  Christmas 
in  school.  Few  if  any  of  their  people 
have  heard  them,  and  it  will  save  you  a 
deal  of  work  and  worry. 
Too  Much  Choir. — One  time  good  old 
Bishop  Williams  grew  restless  in  waiting 
for  a  long  Te  Dftum  to  close.  Just  as 
the  choir  seemed  about  through  it  would 
dash  way  back  again  to  find  some  clause 
it  had  repeated  more  than  six  times. 
When  at  last  the  final  echo  of  the  last 
shriek  died  away,  the  bishop  arose  with 
watch  in  hand,  “That  thing  took  20 
minutes,”  said  he.  Another  time  he  was 
to  conduct  a  great  service  in  Boston, 
the  advertised  feature  of  which  was  the 
bered  soundly  and  in  peace  till  morning. 
The  peace,  however,  was  about  as  shat¬ 
tered  as  the  glass  when  he  beheld  his 
shoe  in  the  morning  resting  comfortably 
iu  the  inside  of  a  beautiful  bookcase — 
the  large  oval  front  glass  of  which  was 
iu  a  thousand  pieces ! 
Santa  Claus. — About  once  iu  so 
often,  some  one  bobs  up  and  asks  if  it 
isn’t  wicked  to  talk  to  children  about 
Santa  Claus.  And  now  and  then  some 
parson  gets  good  and  orders  that  the 
old  sprite  shall  be  banished  from  the 
earth.  But,  like  dancing,  he  keeps  right 
on  just  the  same.  Who  would  hesitate 
to  speak  of  Jack  Frost,  creeping  over 
the  meadows  and  painting  the  windows? 
It  is  simply  a  name  given  to  the  cold. 
So  Santa  Claus  is  a  name  given  to  the 
feeling  and  spirit  of  giving  that  fills  the 
hearts  of  the  people  so  much  more  at  this 
time  than  any  other.  Children’s  imagin¬ 
ation  is  very  active  and  who  would  de¬ 
prive  them  of  their  vision  of  old  Santa 
and  his  reindeer?  As  they  get  older 
and  begin  to  ask  questions,  then  tell 
them  all  about  it.  Ou  tbe  night  before 
Christmas  the  Pastoral  Parson  may  be 
found  at  home.  Ilis  five  mission  sta¬ 
tions  will  not  rob  him  of  that  night. 
Last  year  after  supper  he  went  out  to 
the  back  shed  and  there  donned  a  full 
December  23,  1916. 
Santa  rig  which  Mrs.  Pastoral  Parson 
had  made.  He  appeared  at  the  window 
for  an  instant,  then  away,  then  back 
again  till  at  last  he  came  in  and  shook 
hands  all  round. 
Santa  At  School. — The  Parson  as¬ 
sists  Santa  in  arriving  at  many  a  school 
house  on  the  Lonely  Road.  If  he  can¬ 
not  get  a  local  character  lie  takes  the 
part  himself.  He  will  never  forget  the 
time  he  had  last  year  down  at  the  old 
Black  Rock  school  house  in  woods  be¬ 
yond  Bousa’s  Corner.  It.  was  a  few 
days  before  Christmas  and  I  had  driven 
tar.  It  was  still  as  death  aud  the  snow 
was  just  beginning  to  fall,  sifting  down 
among  the  branches.  I  felt  the  need  of 
a  little  "fun.”  I  hitched  the  old  mare 
under  a  shed  round  the  curve  and  put 
on  a  full  Santa  rig.  Creeping  through 
the  woods  without  a  sound,  Santa’s  head 
appeared  for  a  second  at  one  of  the  school 
house  windows.  One  small  boy  saw  it 
and  nearly  fell  out  of  his  seat!  He  had 
just  recovered  when  it  appeared  again 
at  another  window.  More  saw  if  and 
that  geography  lesson  was  never  fin¬ 
ished  !  The  school  rushed  to  the  win¬ 
dows  to  see  Santa  darting  through  the 
bushes  and  clashing  into  a  group  of 
hemlocks.  It  all  ended  by  Santa  com¬ 
ing  and  shaking  hands  all  around  and 
distributing  Christmas  pictures  and 
candy  boxes. 
A  Christmas  Story,  Adapted. — Did 
you  ever  hear,  children,  how  the  trim¬ 
mings  came  on  the  Christmas  tree?  You 
didn’t?  Well,  I  am  going  to  tell  you. 
Once  upon  a  time  a  long,  long  time 
ago,  there  was  a  very  beautiful  house, 
and  in  this  house  was  a  beautiful  large 
room,  and  in  this  room  they  placed  a 
beautiful  Christmas  tree.  They  put  the 
presents  round  about  and  on  the  Christ¬ 
mas  tree  but  until  the  very  day  itself, 
they  wouldn't  let  the  children  see  the 
Christmas  tree.  But  some  members  of 
the  house  had  seen  it !  The  big  black 
dog  with  his  kind  brown  eyes — he  had 
soon  the  Christmas  tree.  The  large 
house  cat  with  bis  round  green  eyes — he 
had  seen  the  Christmas  tree.  The  little 
canary  bird  with  his  little  bright  eyes — 
he  had  seen  the  Christmas  tree.  But 
there  was  one  whole  big  family  of  tilings 
in  that  house  that  had  not  seen  the 
Christmas  tree.  It  was  the  little  brown 
spiders.  For  you  know,  when  Christ¬ 
mas  time  arives,  the  good  house-mother 
goes  about  to  make  a  great  cleaning  be¬ 
fore  the  company  comes.  As  for  cob¬ 
webs  and  spiders !  dear  me !  She  takes 
a  broom  and  goes  poke,  poke,  poke  into 
every  single  corner.  Poke,  poke,  poke, 
how  they  had  to  scamper!  Poke,  poke, 
poke,  how  they  hud  to  run !  And  the 
spiders  felt  very  badly  about  it.  They 
wanted  to  see  tbe  Christmas  tree.  So 
on  the  night  before  Christmas  they  went 
and  said,  “Dear  Christ  Child,  we  love 
beautiful  tilings,  we  want  to  see  the 
Christmas  tree.”  And  the  Christ  Child 
promised  them  they  could. 
So  when  all  the  house  was  still  and 
the  door  to  the  beautiful  room  was 
opened  they  all  began  to  come.  Creepy, 
crawly,  creepy,  crawly,  down  the  attic 
stairs  a-eoming.  Creepy,  crawly,  creepy, 
crawly  up  tbe  cellar  stairs  a-eoming, 
came  those  spiders — all  the  old  gray 
papa  spiders;  all  the  big  fat  mamma 
spiders,  all  the  little  teeny,  teeny  weent- 
sey  baby  ones.  And  they  went  in  to 
see  tile  Chrisamas  tree.  “Can  we  climb 
upon  the  branches  and  see  it  very  close 
by,"  they  said.  And  they  were  told  they 
could. 
So  up  that  tree  they  went.  In  and 
out  among  the  branches,  round  about 
tbe  trunk  encircling,  up  and  down  the 
trunk  a-runuiug — went  those  spiders  to 
see  the  Christmas  tree.  And  when  they 
were  all  through,  back  they  went  again, 
creepy,  crawly,  creepy,  crawly,  all  along 
the  hallway  running,  dowu  the  stairs  to 
the  sweet  cool  cellar,  lip  the  stairs  to 
the  sunny  attic,  went  those  spiders — 
all  the  old  gray  papa  spiders,  and  the 
big  fat  mamma  spiders,  all  the  teeny, 
teeny  weentsey  baby  ones.  And  when 
that  housewife  went  to  see  that  tree 
what  do  you  suppose  she  found  !  It  was 
just  filled  with  cobwebs.  My !  but  she 
felt  dreadful  over  it!  and  so  she  com¬ 
plained  to  the  Christ  Child.  And  lie 
went  and  with  Ilis  magic  hand.  He 
touched  those  cobwebs  and  turned  them 
all  to  silver  and  to  gold.  And  that’s 
how  the  shining,  glistening  trimming 
came  on  the  Chrlgmtas  tree. 
