The Yazoo Democrat. [volume] (Yazoo City, Miss.) 1858-18??, 1858-12-25
From Arthur's Home Magazine
THE oLD-FAsHIoNED CHRISTMAS.

THE oLD-FAsHIoNED CHRISTMAS.
How we mourn it's departure--the old
fashioned Christmas Years have separated
Us folding over each hope and dream oil
boyhood stern and bitter experience, or
corroding disappointment--one by one, sure
Is, steadily and unrelentingly. Yet, away
back in the morning Of life, where the sky
was warm with rosy glow, there is page
which trials and disappointments and griefs
have failed to cover-the page whercon was
written the anticipations and Joys Of the
holidays. Although we cannot turn the
leaves between the morning and the evening,
nor would wc wereit in our power, there,
lying distinct and apart from the rest, with
its thoughts flushed by the morning hues,
like rare gems set in fine wrought gold, and
easily perused, the backward gaze falls upon
the first page of life.
As lightly and as easily aE our hands lift
the white hairs from our forehead, brushing
them away that they may not obstruct our
sight, our mind puts aside the cares and
sorrows of the present, as il looks back upon
the innocent joys of the morning. Oh !!
that it had been longer! But now that
nightfall approaches, we will fold our hands
in the hope that the morning to como and its
Joys will last forever. bara
But we were thinking Of the morning
long since passed. In that morning there
was a group Of smiling brothers and sisters
gathered around an old fashioned, cheerful
Fireplace. There was bent head Of thin,
grey hairs, and heavy brows, opposite a frail
form whose voice we all recognized as the
sweetest Of the group, both claiming for
themselves, through many years, their re-
spective seats at either side of the fire.
There, halfshaded in recess, the moon
faced warner Of Time griveiy uttered the
departure Of seconds, and pointed out the
minutes lost forever. Facing the old-fash
Toned clock, hung upon the WALL with its
record against Time, and counting perusal
asthe prominent feature in that old fashion
edroom was the Declaration Of Independence.
Then, there was the old-fashioned book
case, with its heavy leathcr-bound volumes,
whose pages our fingers dared not profane,
unless when our faxen curls were brushing
against the grey, hairs Of our father or
mother, as we're pointed out to ms the won
derful pictures therein y eysH l0
All these things, and many more which
We need not enumerate, belonged to the
olden tine, and especially to the old-fash-
toned Christmas. When che group at the
fre>side gave place to the visitors on Christ
mas morning, it seemed as if the room and
the furniture became. brighter certain it
was that the tick of the clock sounded live,
lier and sweeter. How the faces were lit
up with smiles in those days, IN that old
room. How the bright eyes glistened and
sparkled there on Christmas morning. How
the little feet battered impatiently one and
all, as we donned our oVercoats, hats, bon
nets and shawis, and drew on our homes
made gloves, and mufled ourselves up in
our homemade comforts Was it because
there was a spring Of love and gladness in
the smile of the mother Of the olden time I?
Or was it because the Christmas of old, I'M
like that Of the present, possessed in itself a
charm which dissipated all clouds of gloom
from our circle2 mtm "a
What pleasure was like that Of our morn
ing calls upon the aunts and uncles, whose
eyes aud hands, as we'll as their tones,
greeted US with love, and who never could
do more than echo the "Ohristmas Gift |"
bursting from the lips of the tiny three,
year-old, and the rugged lad of eleven.
And so we were always entitled to the gift,
which never failed to be accompanied by a
kiss Of affection, and "a Merry Christmas
to you, my dear y Had we room for d
regret at parting, it was only because the
hours flew past so swiftly that ere we were
aware of it the noon was upon us. And
when the day was over, when the gifts were
deposited in our pockets for the last time,
ere they we're placed beside those treasured
up in the quaint rosewood box, never to be
taken out, save We met one who had never
enjoyed the supreme satisfaction of looking
over our rare and sacred collection Of holiday
presents; when we were gathered together
again in the old>tashioned sitting-room, list
ening to the wonderful stories of Cinderella,
Sinbad, and the Babes in the Wood, and
picturing horses and dogs, and mountains
and valleys, in the cleai glowing fire; list
eniag, and wondering, and dreaming there
III the quletness of the evening, with our
faces flushing in the freight; Oh! then it
was that we wished that life might be q
perpetual Christmas For, in the old,fash
toned Christmas, hand met hand freely, and
eye met eye honestly and fully, giving back
to each other looks Of love and kindness
without measure. No sorrow nor care in-
truded therej but tho young, and the mid
dle-aged, aud the ripe in years mingled
together. And when the hands Of the clock
pointed to ten, and when the hours were
numbered in a loud. ringing voice, even the
youngest of the group knew that The time
had arrived for their separation. Are NOT
all these and much more written on the
page Of our memory Only that the light
is failing, and our eyes have become 50 dim
that we scarcely can read further.