Carroll free press. [volume] (Carrollton [Ohio]) 1834-1861, 1857-12-24
CORRESPONDENCE.
SMOKY CRY. Dec. 10. 1857.


Dear Free Press;-Walking along
Wood street, the other day, l saw, exhib
tied at the shop windows, divers articles
curiousIy wrought, and withsl vsly attract
i've to tue little folks The Christmas
holidays are coming, aud dealers in no.
tions take advantage Of the claims that
children urge, regardless Of the panic or
crisis for presents on that day; So at this
season they throw open their most attract.
i've wares to meet the chldren's gaze as
they pass along the streets. 1t does one
good to see them gIoat over the thousand
and one different TOYS, all constructed to
please the childish fancy. Nor does it
make any difference, with them, whether
these toys were made by the slow, plod.
ding German ip Europe, sighing, as be
does often, for the future of bis fatherland,
or by the versatile Yankee, OF the New
World, humming his favorite air Of Yam
kee Doodle; still their antique forms and
grotesque appearances call forth the won
der and admiration of the young rs much
as Raphaers best or the Venus de Medici
would excite the wonder of their seniors.
These are sharp days indeed. The tho't
of the cold without makes us draw on our
fur gloves and wrap our cIOaks close about
US. But then they are jolly days. How
they contrast with the sornber days Of In
dian Summer, through which we have just
passed, Those days, so sad and gloomy,
almost make one weep. But they are
gone, and Christmes comes like the bright
sunshine on an April morn, when brisk
gale has hurried away the tagging nimbos.
| love the holidays for the associations
they bring. About them thought lingers;
for in its reverie it sees
"Soh eyes look love to eyes that speak again"
as il has a vivid recollection of vow made
on the sofa when none but one were lis
tening, as at the social Christmas party the
merry laugh went round. Ny thoughts,
too, cluster about the holidays; for the r
recurrence excites train of thought that
feeds my fancy for hours as l sit IN my
easy chair revolving reflections of boy
hood and early youth.
How time rolls on! Twas but yester-
day. excam, putting my hand involun.
tariy to my forehead. since l, with the
bright eyed children in the nursery, hung
up my stocking in the chimney place with
high hopes that the benignant saint would
come and put therein some choice toy or
sweatIreat ere the eyelids of the morn
awake the notes of chantcleer. Then we
awoke rarly on Christmas morning and
made aAxious inquiry for what st. Nicho'
las had put into our stockings. | recollect
too the haste to get the "Christmas gift"
first. Then came the social Christmas
dlnner;-the social Christmas dinner in
The cOuntryi There were the aged sire
AMI mStron, around them stood their
children, their stay and the nations
strength: their grandchildren, too, were
there, all minh and glee. The saplent
sire shook bis gray locks in merriment, as
he Joined the merry laugh of the young,
and in their full Aedgel hopes seemed to
live life over again. Upon the table lay
magnificent in death, the adipose gobbler,
tLst a short time before hadstrutted through
the poultry yard, like dandy struts the
streets, an object of envy, in his own esti.
nation, 10 all. The grand.sire looked
grave and laid his hand upon the table;
then there was silence while he invoked the
benedction Of his fathers God upon the
sumptuous rspast. All were then served;
not perhaps Ia mode de Chesterfield; but
all we're served and all were satisfied, and
all we're happy; such were Christmas din.
net in the country when jetois jeu~s,
Then came the long cold evening. The
moon in modest beauty. and. like noble
matron among her daughters, walked
among the stars-stars sparkling as the
eyes of angels. The faggots blazed upon
the hearth. The young were seated round
to hear the grand-sire tell stories of the
past. He began by telling Bible stories of
Adam and Noah and Christ; of Ewes
great sin, of Gains dread deed and of Ju.
das' hOrrid crime, Soon Master Nsddy's
limbs relax and the gentle hand of balmy
sleep closes the inlets 10 the soul. "He
sleeps" says the old man, ay-
I" 'Tis the fate Of m any gracious moral
To be stranded on a drOwsy ear"
Then he told how Athens fought at Marathon
for liberty, spurning with noble pride the base
fetters Of ignoble Persia; how Thermophyle
saw three hundred SpArtans die death the
world has envied. Nor did he fail to compare
Ailtiades with Washington, and Leonidas with
Tell, and Winklereid and the heroes OF Lex.
ingtOn. His aged eyes sparkled with pri e
when his grandson declared he'd take the oath
Of Hanibal-nOt against Rome, but against all
tyrants.
The old man, however, diverted his
thoughts from the soul-stirring scenes of
the battle field, and with en- ease that
hoary wisdom s master of, directed them
where the Muses. haunt. He told how
Ulysses, returning from The Trojan war,
braved the dangers Of the deep, escaped
the charmes of Circe, baffied the Oyclop
in his cave and returned to meet tue queen
Of Ithaca, faithful TO her Hymeneal vow: