The Philomathean (Chappell Hill, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 1, Ed. 1 Friday, January 1, 1886 Page: 4 of 4
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both dignity and authority went
10 the wall this morning- when we
helped the children count the
treasures left them by faithful,
loving Santa Clans, With his in
creasing family the old saint is
now much pushed for time, so this
year he sent us word he would
leave our presents on the Christ-
mas tree. We were much troubled
at this message, and could hardly
believe it true because there was
no chimney at the church for him
to comedown; but when we went
our presents were there sure
enough, and I suppose the good
old fellow must have squeezed
himself up very small indeed and
cotne down the stove pipe. How
the children feast I And grown
folks are not far behind in the race.
All seem filled with the landible
desire of relieving the burdened
table. No wonder that in the en
joyment of such a scene as this
Longfellow sang:
Toll me not in mournful numbers
Chrisfonas is an emiy dream;
For the one is left that slumbers.
And drinks his coffee without cream.
Life is real! So is Christmas,
Santa Clause is tried and true,
Let all rejoice from pole to isthmus
That Christmas turkey is real too.
The table's long nnd time is fleeting,
Let us work With spirits cool,
For cir "hearts like dreams are beating,
'/Thursday is the day for school.
In the world's broad range of dainties
We wail work with fork and knife;
Grow Vou bold whose!heart now faint is, .
Be a hero in this sirife!
Trast no Future, however pleasant,
If the Christmas board is spread,
Eat, no matter Who is present.
Or give your place to me instead.
The sizo of fat merii&till reminds us
We caWmxkeVour Bize* so;
And dep uting leave "behind us
Tracks to last where: we go.
Deep tracks which perhaps another,
Struggling down the muddy lane,
May step in, and wit i vit pother
Stand ujfori hard ground again.
Let us then be up and eating
E very thing Jihat woican get,
Still a chewing, ne'er retreating
From a table that is set.
Yea, Christmas is a grand, liap-
. py day, the very pinnacle of hap-
piness to be reached only by the
steps of happy days before it.
We can not jump suddenly to
Christmas. Half, indeed 1 believe
more than half, its joys would be
lost in the lea]). This is the great
clay for giving and receiving, and
if it should seize suddenly upon
us, we should lose the pleasure of
anticipating, as well as of prepar-
ing those loving reminders that
this is the day of 4 peace on earth
and "good will to men/' In tht
days before < hristmas how many
thousand voices are saying w hat
shall I give to papa, mamma,
brother, sister, or friend; and
innumerable busy fingers are
twirling off the little gifts that are
to carry joy to others? the joy of
knowing we have friends who
love us. And not infrequently we
find 1 it is more blessed to give
than to receive."
The poor we have with us 1
ways and whenever we will we
may do them good There is never
a time when this is more lovingly
brought before our minds than on
the anniversary of the birth of
this personification of unselfish
mercy, whose loving heart evtr
turns to the poor, the distressed
and the outcast. In the thought,
but more in the act of carrying
out this command, we are drawn
near the gentle Christ, and out
hearts are warmer toward each
other. Did we of Chautauquan
ilk do what we could to make this
Christmas a day-of rejoicing to
someone! Whether we did or
not, may each day till another
Christmas find some kind word oi
deed placed to our account What
a grand aggregate thcie will be !
Three hundred and sixty-five
deeds of kindness, three hundred
and sixty-five hearts made hap-
pier T Say rather twice three hun-
dred and sixty-five, for our own
hearts are happier in giving hap
piness to others. But while we
are still reveling in Christmas joys,
the new year has stolen upon us,
and the old year is gone. The
old year with its joys and sorrows,
its hopes and disappointments, its
love and happiness, Does not
the thought make you sad? It
seems to me with the death of the
old year a heart strjjig is snapped.
Last week does not seem merely
a few days gone, but far back in
the irrecoverable past, separated
from us by memory, alas! may be
on a 'bridge of sighs. '
We can almost see the venera-
ble shade of Time as he leaps the
yawning cl asm, his hoary locks
streaming in the winds of winter
while he points his trembling fin-
ger to the eternity before us, and
with one triumphant stroke of hie
silent hammer sweeps the dear
old year into the common mauso-
leum of age. However, there is no
use repining so with Tennyson,
we will
"King out the old, ring in the new,
King out the false, ring in the true."
Allow me to wish you a happj^
happy new year! May it prove a
true and pleasant one and when
another twelve months has ticked
off its swift revolution, may you
look back on much to give you
joy, and with not one regret for
what ' might have been.''
The cheerful new year now ad-
monishes i3S to turn our hands
and thoughts to the busy life
around us, carrying the memory
of the Christmas days in our heart,
and treasuring them as only such
days can be treasured. As we
linger a moment on this memory,
our hearts insensibly turn to the
Christmas-tide of other and hap-
pier days. We close our eyes, and
as in the shifting of the kaleido-
scope, scene after scene passes by
ns in rapid transition, with beloved
forms gliding through them all—
all the Christmas days spent at
the dear < 3d home. We see the
roaring fires, the merry party, the
happy faces, the loved friends of
lung ago, friends whom distance
has separated from our sight but
not from our hearts; and some of
them, not a few, have crossed over
the dark waters; yet we know they
are in the blissful sunlight beyond.
Yes. we love the old Christmas-
fides, and we think of them with
a yearning sorrow, even with a joy
filled with awe; and we think of
the friends 'now the most blessed
memory of our lives'—think of
them, not as we have seen them,
with traces of sorrow and anxiety
on eye, lip and brow, but with a
saint, like aureole about th« soft
hair, and a i ,-ht in the dee} lov ng
eyes. 'We think of the oldest and
best Christmas day of all, when
shepherds were keeping watch
oyer their flocks at night, and the
vision of the angels appeared to
them. a*.d ihe music of the angels
floated o\er them, and we cling to
the thought that oui darkening
•■yes shall yet see something of
f at glory and dull ears catch
something of that melody, and that
the form9 mo ft loved of a!' will be
with i s there." E. S.
i
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Felder, Kate & Tarrant, Mamie. The Philomathean (Chappell Hill, Tex.), Vol. 1, No. 1, Ed. 1 Friday, January 1, 1886, newspaper, January 1, 1886; Chappell Hill, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth235637/m1/4/: accessed April 19, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting The Dolph Briscoe Center for American History.