Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1858-12-28
ll(ortcstrr Daily Spp.



their most secret places. Each village was an
isolated community, governed by its social ne
cessities. Little visiting passed between 1t and
its neighb0rs. Now and then one of its young
men would stray away, and come back with a
strange wife; or young woman would induce
some mhabitant Of another region to settle
down by her for the sake Of marrying her
But the parties were considered foreigners to
the day Of their death, and then were generally
carried back and buried in their native place
Where l lived, there were no Christmas
legends. No stories came down to us of the
mistletoe-bough, the YUle-log, the wassail-bowl,
and boar's head. "BaXter's Saints Rest" and
Edwards on the viii, were the standard
books for the old and we young ones had
primers, "The Christian Drummer" "The
Penitent Robber" and milk for Babes, or a
Catechism in Verse" Little Christmas cheer
we found in any Of them!
On the 25th of December, 1920, English
mothers might have wished each other and
their children, with a smile and a tear, "Merry
Christmas !! AT any rate, the mild sarcasm
was in vogue with us children, their descend
ants. We rose early in the morning of that
day and DANGEROUSLY wished CHERRY Christ
mas" to every body. We received many pen
MES in return but the pastime was soon over,
and the day became as dull as any other day;
duller to me, for | was forced to celebrate it
after fashion which my mother, who was a
Lady Bountiful, had devised.
She had a list of friends who seldom sat at
rich mems feaSts. Their sphere was narrow
they were perhaps what Kingsley calls "minute
philosophers '-but their hearts were better
than the hearts of the heroes which the world
has anatomical and impaed in songs and epics.
They were alike fervent and impartial on the
annual measles and tevers the corn crop and
the religious revival. They could eXpatiate
with equal interest on a birth or a death;
whether the child was marked or the coffin
mahogany!
Christmas, at our house, was set apart for
their entertainment; and l. a child, was lugged
into the days duties. If the weather was fine
the day before, my mother sent me in the
chaise, with Bill, our hired man. for a driver,
with the invitations. They were always ac-
cepted, for they were always expected.
From year to year the party changed. One
of the old people, in the interval, might die,
but new member would be added, and the
list was always full. AS it is with the king
who never dies, so with the poor. They die
they live! / remember all those festivals.
But here is one in its particulars.
Invitations had been sent to Miss Polly lie
Brun to the widow Chandos and her sister,
Miss Carter; to Mrs. Saunders; to Jane Buck,
and her grandfather, Mr.. John Buck; and
George Washington Jones.
The day began well for me. Mother had
given me a bead work-bag, in blue and red, as
a reward for the merit she expected me to at
tain before night. 1t was hilarious weather.
A white frost cobwebbed the frozen ground;
the passing wheels chinked a pleasant music
as they rolled through the ridged ruts and
horses and oxen were enveloped in powdery
clouds Of yapor. The old red barn glistened
with sun and frost, and the gray walls of the
bp1,Ca 1aal~aJ Il GOLD
and log fires of oak and birch were swapping
and blazing in the lower rooms. All the rock
ing chairs in the house were ranged round the
paror hearth, their chntZ covered cushions
well shaken, and their frills smoothed. Two
new snutf-boXes-with beautiful pictures of
the Prodigal Son, in blue dress coat and knee
brooches and Joseph and his Brethren, all re-
specially dressed-flled, one with yellow
snuff, the other with black, had been placed on
the mantels shelf The kitchen chamber had
been arranged for me and for what my mother
called my company"-Jane Buck and George
W. Jones, both of whom were young people
The kitchen was well cleaned, for chance visit
Ors were expected there; and sundry bundles
were piled up in the buttery waiting their ar
rival. Mother and l were dressed, and ready
for the company. She had on a dark merino
dress, with sleeves very full at the shoulder,
and wadded, and tight to the arm from the
elbow to the wrist; a long, full, black silk
apron and a lace handkerchief tucked about
her throat Her beautiful hair was simply
twisted, and held up by a huge tan-topped
shell Of flagreed tortoise-shell. l wore a
caTet-colored glazed WOODEN frOck, trimmed
with gilt buttons and a high-necked white
cambria apron. My hair was "shngled, and
the white skin cOntTasted with the short black
bristles Mother had sent Bill with "Old
Gray" and the yellow bOttomed chaise for the
guests, and by half-past ten they had all ar
rived.
Miss Polly LIE Brun came first as she lived
the greatest distance from us. She was array
ed in black satin bonnet, trimmed with great
bows, and a somewhat frayed black silk cloak.
Underneath it was a bright figured coarse cal
leo dress, fashionably made. She wore high
heeed morocco shoes, and her feet were very
small She was a tavorite at our house, and
generally staid with us a few weeks every win
ter. Miss Polly was decayed gentlewoman,
and had connections which were her pride.
She had travelled, too, for in her younger years
she had visited her rich relatives in Connect
cut and Maine. These visits were the romance
of Miss Polly's innocent life. She had picked
up bits Of family history-a love affair or so,
ana some tragic mOrsels that she never was
tired OF repeating to me after we retired at
night-for it was my privilege to sleep with
her, although | generally fell asleep i'll the
middle Of each story She was very small i'll
person, and very neat. How she contrived to
dress herself nicely for six weeks together,
with the contents Of a small blue-and-white
cotton handkerchief, which comprised her bag
gage, was a great mystery to me. Her nose
looked like the beall Of parrot, and her breath
whistled through it very loudly when her
mouth was shut her finger nails were always
in a moulting condition Nobody enjoyed our
dinners more than Miss Polly. She was the
kndest-hearted creature in the world but she
could not help feeling superior to the rest OF
our visitors.
Mrs. Chandos came next, with her maiden
sister, Carter. Mrs. Chandos was large,
coarse-ieatured woman. She wore list shoes,
and made no more noise than a cat in walking
The sisters were dressed alike in mourning
calico, with white streaks running over the
ground like lightning. They wore stiff muslin
caps bound on with black ribbon. Miss Car
ter was an echo of Mrs. Chandos. When she
said "Hes," Miss Carter said yes" too and
If one laughed, so did the other. They were
always knitting mixed yarn, and had to wear
the shapeless stockings-and ugly enough they
were Mrs. Chandos seated herself in the best
corner, adjusted her knitting sheath and took
snuii--not by smelling it, but by laying it up
in large pinches inside her nose. She then
said to mother, "Ths ere is the tenth Christ
mas, marin. Your father, that helped my old
man to his pension, invited me to his house
Just ten Christmas days, too and then lie
died, good as he was. LoTd-a-marcy how
much liter t''e punllns were then than they
ace nov -a-days 70 Miss Carter said "the pun
klns were dreadful poor nowadays but the
squre's garden sarse always tasted better than
ut Mnthar Ia bn