V>he  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
1572 
Some  Christmas  Thoughts 
For  the  Older  People 
The  Finest  Christmas  Present 
The  following  is  taken  from  the  letter 
of  a  hard-working  country  woman.  Good 
reading  for  the  Christmas  time  which 
becomes,  with  so  many  people,  a  selfish 
race  to  see  which  can  outdo  the  other  in 
giving  costly  and  often  useless  gifts : 
One  morning  last  Summer  our  family 
doctor,  who  is  also  our  good  old  friend, 
came  down  and  told  me  that  a  nice  little 
baby  boy  had  arrived  at  the  hospital 
minus  a  borne.  He  was  too  nice  a  child 
to  send  to  the  county  house,  where  such 
children  are  sent,  so  he  asked  me  if  I 
would  mother  him  for  a  few  days  until 
a  suitable  institution  could  be  found  for 
him.  Of  course  he  knew  I  would  say 
yes.  so  in  an  hour's  time  he  was  back 
with  the  baby.  The  dear  little  chap 
weighed  scarcely  seven  pounds,  and  he 
was  then  three  weeks  old.  lie  was  so 
thin  that  he  scarcely  looked  like  a  baby 
at  all,  and  so  my  job  began. 
That  child  was  not  here  1C  minutes 
before  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  he 
would  never  leave  the  house  again  if  I 
could  help  it.  When  my  husband  came 
borne  I  was  delighted  to  have  him  share 
my  opinion. 
The  baby  had  a  desperately  hard 
Slimmer  but  they  finally  pulled  him 
through,  and  now  lie  is  growing  fast. 
As  is  usual  in  such  cases  the  friends  and 
neighbors  took  a  hand  with  plenty  of  ad¬ 
vice.  The  letter  goes  on  : 
They  finally  decided  that  wo  were 
crazy  to  keep  that  child  when  we  had 
five  of  our  own,  and  that  we  were  run¬ 
ning  a  fearful  “risk”  by  keeping  him. 
Fin  all  v  four  different  ‘'places”  were 
kindly  found  for  him  and  four  parties 
made  hopping  mad  because  we  refused  to 
give  him  up. 
One  woman  thought  she  had  settled  the 
matter  by  saying  that  it  would  not  be 
fair  to  our  own  children  to  keep  him. 
That  was  a  new  one  to  me  and  I  confess 
it  made  me  angry.  I  told  her  I  thought 
it  wouldn’t  be  “fair”  to  our  children  to 
let  them  grow  tip  to  be  selfish,  and  the 
best  way  to  teach  them  to  he  unselfish 
was  to  let  them  move  over  and  make 
room  for  this  unfortunate  little  boy. 
I  don’t  worry  any  about  the  future  be¬ 
cause  that  is  in  better  bands  thau  ours. 
We  are  all  going  to  love  him  so  much 
that  he  just  can’t  be  anything  else  but 
good. 
Now,  after  some  little  experience  in 
this  very  work  we  feel  like  printing  this 
letter  as  the  very  central  idea  of  this 
Christmas  number  of  The  R.  N.-T. 
This  woman  will  receive  her  reward. 
We  want  to  tell  you  that  uo  one,  at  this 
beautiful  and  holy  festival,  will  know  a 
higher  and  purer  joy  than  will  come  to 
this  family  through  this  little  child.  This 
world  is  to  be  made  better  and  stronger 
and  more  worthy  by  just  such,  simple 
unheralded  kindly  deeds.  A  merry 
Christmas  indeed  to  that  family. 
Christmas  Stkawrebries.  —  While 
some  of  our  people  are  shivering  in  the 
cold  of  a  Northern  Christmas  they  might 
look  at  the  picture  on  this  page.  This 
was  taken  in  Florida,  and  the  man  with 
his  little  girl  are  actually  finding  straw¬ 
berries  for  a  Christinas  short  cake.  This 
may  seem  remarkable  to  some  of  us  who 
look  out  across  the  frozen  snow  on  Christ¬ 
mas  Hay,  and  go  back  to  a  baked  apple 
or  a  piece  of  apple  pie.  In  sunny  Flor¬ 
ida,  however,  the  strawberries  are  ripen¬ 
ing,  and  it  is  actually  possible  to  have 
the  short  cake.  While  that  is  true  it  is  uo 
reason  for  supposing  that  all  you  have  to 
do  is  to  go  to  Florida  and  buy  land  from 
some  real  estate  shark  in  order  to  pass 
the  rest  of  your  days  in  comfort  and 
prosperity.  "We  have  found  Florida  a 
very  good  place  for  a  Winter  residence 
for  those  who  have  the  price,  but  there 
are  Christmas  presents  worth  while 
right  under  the  snow.  It  is  a  nice  thing 
to  be  able  to  spend  the  Winter  in  Florida, 
and  this  picture  is  a  time  one,  but  those 
of  us  who  cannot  go  there  this  Winter 
will  make  the  best  of  our  Christmas  at 
home. 
The  Country  Christmas  Spirit 
My  neighbors  and  I  have  found  such  a 
novel  and  thoroughly  delightful  way  of 
celebrating  the  holiday  season  that  I 
want  to  tell  other  people  about  it  in  the 
hope  that  some  other  section  will  do  like¬ 
wise.  Every  community  must  have  the 
necessary  “equipment”  if  only  some  one 
finds  it ;  it  may  not  he  just  like  ours,  but 
a  community  without  an  unsupplied  need 
would  be  too  ideal  for  this  world.  A 
frail  little  woman  was  left  with  four 
very  small  children,  one  only  six  months 
old.  and  one  of  our  Epworth  League  offi¬ 
cers  told  us  one  evening  that  they  had 
neither  fuel,  money,  nor  Winter  clothes. 
A  near  neighbor  opened  her  home  for  the 
occasion  and  people  were  asked  to  come 
and  sew.  bringing  with  them  anything 
they  could  spare.  The  little  mother  with 
her  babies  was  invited  to  come,  too,  and 
we  spent  the  day  cutting,  mending,  and 
“making  over.”  We  contributed  little 
warm  woolen  stockings,  bootees,  sacques, 
and  bonnets  outgrown  by  our  owif  babies; 
one  woman  gave  a  lot  of  nice  shirtwaists, 
underskirts,  woolen  dress  skirts,  anil 
heavy  underwear  for  the  mother,  five  or 
six  suits  of  underwear  for  the  little  ones, 
new  percale  to  make  up,  and  baby  clothes 
galore.  Another  woman  sent  money  to 
the  store  to  be  used  for  groceries;  still 
another  gave  various  warm  garments  of 
her  own  to  the  needy  mother;  and  the 
mother  of  a  half-grown  boy  sent  a  splen¬ 
did  outfit  of  boys’  furnishings  of  nil  kinds 
to  the  one  little  boy  old  enough  for  school. 
A  piece  of  fine  heavy  percale  in  m  dainty 
blue  pattern  on  a  white  ground  was  made 
into  a  variety  of  little  dresses  and  aprons, 
and  trimmed  with  Idue-edged  finishing 
braid ;  coats  were  ripped  up  and  made 
into  little  coats,  and  altogether  we  spent, 
a  very  useful  day  and  left  the  destitute 
little  flock  infinitely  more  comfortable 
than  we  found  them.  The  people  were 
supposed  to  furnish  their  own  dinner, 
each  one  bringing  a  substantial  article  of 
food,  but  the  hostess  set  aside  everything 
that  was  brought  in,  to  be  saved  for  the 
needy  little  family,  and  served  all  excel¬ 
lent  dinner  to  the  crowd  entirely  herself. 
The  men  are  talking  of  a  “wood  bee.”  to 
solve  the  fuel  problem,  and  at  Christmas 
some  of  us  will  by  all  means  see  that 
Santa  Claus  does  uot  entirely  forget 
these  little  tots. 
As  is  so  often  the  ease,  the  most 
affluent  families  are  the  ones  who  do  not 
contribute  to  such  causes.  Possibly  it  is 
by  ignoring  the  call  of  (he  needy  that  they 
accumulate  fortunes,  but  surely  it  is  im¬ 
possible  that  they  get  the  keen  pleasure 
out  of  life  that  comes  only  from  “giving 
the  cup  of  cold  water”  to  one  of  the  least 
of  these.  E.  M.  a. 
Christmas  Spent  Without  Spending 
With  our  lips  still  smacking  over  the 
lingering  tart  of  cranberry  sauce  and 
pumpkin  pie;  with  Mother  still  serving 
chicken  soup  and  turkey  souffle  from  the 
left-overs  of  Thanksgiving  Day,  we  fiml 
it  a  gladsome  necessity  to  think  and  plan 
for  our  swiftly-approaching  Christmas 
giving.  I  hold  a  vivid  recollection  of  a 
Christinas  a  pent  without  spending. 
My  husband  was  ill.  requiring  constant 
waiting  upon  ;  there  was  scarcely  time  to 
prepare  meals  for  the  “kiddies,"  and 
Christmas  was  uot  to  be  thought  of ! 
But,  when  Christmas  Eve  began  to  fall 
over  our  little  home,  I  did  think.  Christ¬ 
mas  without  n  tree — it  had  never  hap¬ 
pened  before ;  it  couldn't  happen  now! 
It  was  a  serious  affair ;  but  I  can  smile 
now  as  1  think  hack  (it  is  not  ancient 
history,  either),  of  how  I  went  out  in  the 
dusk  nud  searched  for  a  tree.  Nothing 
but  bare  twigs  in  sight !  The  snow  was 
very  deep;  and.  too.  I  would  be  needed 
hack  in  the  invalid's  room.  Desperately 
I  broke  off  a  spreading  bare  branch. 
Then  I  found  a  small  evergreen  branch 
which  I  could  place  among  the  bare 
branches  to  add  color ! 
Within  a  few  spare  moments  that 
evening  bright  papers  were  cut  into  stars 
and  chains;  the  attic  yielded  its  share  of 
“brand-new”  hair  ribbons;  from  my  sew¬ 
ing  basket  came  quickly  made  garters  out 
of  a  stray  piece  <»f  elastic;  the  cupboard 
grouchily  presented  me  with  a  lemon 
which  promised  lemonade  and  some  dried 
prunes  which  the  children  would  consider 
a  novelty  in  place  of  the  regular  stewed 
prune.  These  were  hung  upon  the  tree ! 
Finally,  parcel  post  packages  from  a 
loving  grandma  and  a  generous  uncle 
made  up  for  my  deficiencies ;  but,  never¬ 
theless,  the  experience  of  searching  out 
“something  from  nothing"  and,  withal, 
the  children’s  evident  appreciation  of 
small  things,  set.  me  to  thinking  how 
much  might  be  accomplished,  if  neces¬ 
sary,  at.  giving  without  spending.  The 
present  high,  aud  constantly  soaring,  cost 
of  living  will  place  many  of  us  where  we 
will  be  obliged  to  “tbiuk  twice"  when  we 
are  doing  our  Christmas  shopping,  and 
even  then  we  may  find  our  “Christmas 
money”  vanishing  so  swiftly  that  on  the 
night  before  Christmas  we  shall  be  vainly 
regretting  “the  things  undone,  which 
bring  just  a  bit  of  heartache  at  the  set¬ 
ting  or  the  sun.” 
I  have  often  observed  that  not  the  per¬ 
sons  who  receive  no  gifts,  but.  those  gener¬ 
ous  hearts  who  cannot  give  are  the  saddest 
at.  Christmas  time.  But.  in  this  case'tbera 
is  royal  compensation  in  lacki.  g!  The 
money-bought  present  is  too  often  a  lux¬ 
urious  impractical  gift,  costing  far  more 
than  its  actual  value,  since  during  the 
holidays  prices  are  most  extreme. 
Suppose  we  try  to  think  of  something 
at  home  which  could  be  converted  into  a 
very  acceptable  Christmas  gift.  Even  the 
thought  back  of  a  present  multiplies  its 
value  by  one  hundred !  Following  are  a 
few  suggestions,  numbered  for  the  sake  of 
ready  reference,  each  idea  presented  with 
the  motive  of  giving  without  spending. 
1.  Handkerchiefs,  neatly  hemmed  and 
an  embroidered  initial  adorning  one  cor¬ 
ner,  may  be  made  from  a  stray  remnant 
of  linen  or  lawn. 
2.  Canvas  or  denim  gloves  for  the 
woman  who  hangs  out  wet  clothes  are  a 
boon — -and  so  easily  made  on  the  sewiilg 
machine. 
2.  Night  slippers  are  a  joy  to  children 
who  must  walk  upstairs  after  preparing 
for  bed.  Any  material  of  downy  texture 
is  adaptable,  and  they  are  made  as  sim¬ 
ply  as  a  stocking  foot. 
4.  Every  country  woman  should  have  a 
knit,  woolen  corset-cover.  A  worn 
sweater,  by  removing  the  collar  and  lower 
part  <if  sleeves  (parts,  by  the  way,  most 
likely  to -show  wear)  serves  beautifully 
for  this  purpose.  Finish  with  ribbon, 
lace  or  ruffle  of  contrasting  material. 
5.  Aprons  are  always  welcome  and  re- 
<  lire  merely  “a  patch  and  a  pocket”  in 
their  making. 
<».  Knowing  the  size  of  any  little  girl’s 
doll,  it  is  a  simple  matter  to  make  a 
dress,  a  bonnet  or  cloak  for  it. 
7.  Mittens  are  neatly  and  quickly  made 
on  the  sewing  machine.  Use  any  flexible 
woolen  material. 
S.  A  child’s  fur  set  can  be  made  from 
an  out-of-date  fur  piece,  or  if  you  have 
only  a  trifle  of  fur  use  it  simply  for  the 
rim  of  the  muff  and  the  scarf-end.  So 
easily  done,  but  how  happy  some  little 
girlie  will  be  wheu  she  wears  her  new 
furs ! 
11.  To  on  invalid  friend  is  sent  your 
cheeriest  house-plant  to  gladden  the 
Christmas  day. 
10.  To  a  far-away  relative  may  be 
sent  the  kiddies’  latest  photo  (it  may  be 
only  a  snap-shot  if  it  be  well  taken)  ac¬ 
companied  by  a  little  verse  after  this 
sort : 
"We're  very  small,  but  we  want  to  send 
To  our  Auntie,  far  away, 
Some  love,  and  a  kiss,  with  a  happy  wish 
For  a  Merry  Christmas  Day.” 
Another  name  may  be  used  in  place  of 
“Auntie.”  dora  a.  mondore. 
The  Farmer’s  Vacation 
Dow  I  envy  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Olds  on 
tli i r  trip  in  a  light  wagon,  from  Michi¬ 
gan,  down  through  the  coast  States  and 
back  through  the  central  ones.  Think  of 
a  year’s  vacation,  and  what  a  delightful 
time  of  pleasant  adventures.  Just  the 
two  of  them  and  the  faithful  horse,  and 
how  independent  they  can  be  with  their 
tent,  and  cooking  utensils.  What  a  lot 
of  nice  friends  they  will  make,  and  how 
good  the  stuff  will  taste  when  they  pre¬ 
pare  it  themselves.  Fanners  have  a 
happy  peaceful  life,  but  they  deserve  va- 
December  23,  1916. 
cations  as  well  as  city  folks,  and  are  so 
constituted  that  if  they  take  them,  they 
are  infinitely  better.  The  idle  rich  never 
have  any  fun  at  home  or  away,  and  the 
break  of  a  vacation  for  busy  city  folks  is 
an  artificial  spell,  harassed  by  the 
thought  of  service  soon,  Too  soon  they 
know  they  must  hurry  back  to  the  stren¬ 
uous  life,  and  mingle  with  business 
maniacs. 
An  auto  also  is  a  poor  companion  for 
pleasant  and  profitable  res’:  You  must 
watch  the  barren  old  road  aud  push  along. 
Nice  people  and  pleasant  scenes  along 
the  way  are  not  for  its  passengers.  Wife 
and  I  know  the  buggy  route,  and  many 
days  and  some  weeks,  we  have  aimlessly 
jogged  along,  over  all  kinds  of  roads, 
viewing  the  thrift  and  contentment  of 
the  people  and  the  variety  of  scenery.  We 
managed  to  keep  an  auto  out  of  the  fam¬ 
ily  until  this  year,  when  the  pressure  got 
too  great.,  and  now  I  am  homesick,  after 
a  wasted  Summer,  for  a  wander  over 
hills,  along  runs,  through  woods  and 
thickets,  among  rocks,  on  clay  roads  and 
wagon  tracks.  How  I  would  like  to  stop 
along  the  fences  with  the  men  at  work, 
at  the  spring  houses  for  a  drink,  and  get 
acquainted  with  the  folks,  see  every  crop 
and  tree,  fence,  flower,  shrub  and  build¬ 
ing,  stop  on  an  elevation  and  reach  for 
the  field  glass,  gather  berries,  nuts  and 
purloin  fruits. 
We  are  always  too  busy  at  home  to  pay 
much  attention  to  each  other  hut  when 
away,  with  lightsome  hearts,  we  have 
time  to  get  near  on  all  manner  of  pleas¬ 
ant  themes,  and  are  glad  we  are  alive  and 
have  each  other.  Happiness  is  in  our¬ 
selves.  but  the  surroundings  keep  us  from 
realizing  it,  or  do  not  call  to  the  knowl¬ 
edge  of  it.  When  a  busy  couple  are  care¬ 
free,  amid  pleasant  scenes  the  birds  sing, 
flowers  bloom,  brooks  purl,  sun  shines, 
winds  blow  and  every  operation  of  nature 
is  for  them.  Beauty,  melody  and  majesty 
are  theirs  without  measure,  and  then  to 
come  back  to  earth  again,  how  good  the 
lunch  tastes,  eaten  in  some  shady  lawn, 
by  a  spring.  No  chef,  nor  waiter  with  a 
spike-tail  coat,  and  a  shirt-front  a  yard 
long,  ever  can  serve  one  equal  to  the  se¬ 
lections  made  from  the  regular  home 
stock,  eaten  at  the  newly  discovered  place. 
There  are  innumerable  roads,  traveled 
in  all  kinds  of  ways  in  the  pursuit  of 
happiness,  but  for  two  old  lovers,  a 
buggy,  an  aimless  ramble  among  nature's 
scenes,  along  an  old-fashioned  road,  with 
its  breaks  (“thank-you-mums"),  bridges, 
culverts  and  gullies,  is  good  enough.  All 
the  varieties  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  of 
that  latitude,  tlieir  blossoms,  fruit  and 
foliage  are  there,  the  shy  little  animals 
fleeing  to  cover,  cattle  under  (he  trees  or 
standing  in  the  runs,  indolently  swinging 
their  heads,  lambs  lying  on  the  rocks,  or 
jumping  about  on  their  wabbly  legs,  in 
the  gladness  of  tlieir  hearts,  house  dogs 
that  watch  for  thieves,  knowing  nice 
folks  when  they  see  thorn,  now  walking 
out  and  smiling  in  their  way. 
The  lives  of  the  ramblers  have  taught 
them  of  farms  and  all  connected  with 
them,  and  they  understand  the  soils, 
crops  and  evc-vy  operation.  They  have 
lived  near  nature  and  love  it.  so  the  soft 
winds  blow,  the  gentle  rains  fall,  old 
earth  is  dressed  in  her  nice  clothing  and 
all  make  a  scene  of  rapture.  “Sending 
us  rains  from  heaven  and  fruitful  sea¬ 
sons,  filling  our  hearts  with  food  and 
gladness.  Thou  crownest  the  year  with 
thy  goodness  and  all  thy  paths  drop  fat¬ 
ness.”  Wluit  does  the  first  robin  mean 
to  the  city  man?  Any  person  persevering 
in  the  Christian  life  in  n  city  deserves 
great  credit,  although  I  would  expect  him 
to  have  infinitely  greater  inducements  to 
go  to  Heaven  than  a  country  dweller.  A 
glow  of  pleasure  comes  over  the  ramblers 
when  they  think  of  their  mows,  bins  and 
cribs,  and  the  privilege  of  growing 
things,  and  the  rearing  of  animals,  their 
partnership  with  the  Almighty.  It  up¬ 
lifts  them  and  magnifies  their  calling. 
It  seems  but  a  short  step  from  a 
buggy,  under  such  circumstances  to  the 
better  land,  although  the  liability  is 
greater  from  a  machine.  That  expres¬ 
sion  is  wrong.  Heaven  is  an  asset,  not  a 
liability,  but  the  prospect  is  better  from 
it  for  any  who  consider  this  a  "vale  of 
tears.”  The  state  of  mind  of  tho_  ramb¬ 
le  is  does  not  entertain  any  desire  for 
such  a  change.  All  the  wrinkles  of  care, 
anxiety  and  trouble  are  ironed  away  and 
it  is  in  reality,  a  “day  of  heaven  upon  the 
earth.” 
“T  love  thy  rocks  and  rills. 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills. 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills,  like  that 
above.” 
At  least  that  is  the  way  the  beauty, 
melody  and  harmony  of  nature  strikes  a 
Scotch  Covenanter. 
“The  earth  is  flocked  wi'  flowers, 
Monny  tinted,  fresh  and  gay, 
The  birdies  warble  blithely, 
For  my  F ather  made  them  sae. 
But  these  sights,  and  these  sounds, 
Will  as  nil  thing  he  to  me. 
When  I  hear  the  angels  singing. 
In  my  ain  conn  trie. 
So  I’m  watching  and  I'm  singing, 
O’  my  haine  as  I  wait. 
For  the  soundin’  of  1 1  is  foot  fa’s, 
Outside  the  gowden  gate. 
God  gie  his  grace  to  ilk  ane. 
Who  listens  uoo  to  me. 
Till  we  a'  go  haine  in  gladness. 
To  my  ain  count rie.” 
W.  W.  REYNOLDS. 
Florida  Christmas  among  the  SLianL~ii.cs 
