The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-12-13
VOLUME |.
MORNING STAR AND CATHOLIC MESSENGER.
NEW ORLEANS, SUNDAY. DECEMBER 49, 'lsss
TWO BLOCKS FROM THE CHRISTMAS FIRE.
BY CAvIARE.

Though the wind blew fierce, and the
snow fell fast, and the SCOT flakes tumbled
down the chimney at Christmas time, the
frosty dear old festival will bring it's spe-
cial delights, it's gracious thoughts, that
blossom, like its own rose, by stormy ga
bles, and amid leafiless gardens, diffusing
it's sweet breath around, when the violets
are still under the earth, and the fnrze is
blossomless on the nplands. The glory of
the time lies in the contrasts which it evOkes
with ice the fields, if not white, are cover
ed with the yellow tint of decay the brook
is thick and immovable; our trees do not
afford a solitary green bud to relieve the
universal dreariness in which, from their
melancholy looks and pinched bodies, even
the dumb animals of the stall and paddock
might be supposed to participate. Within
doors the hearth is bright, for there the ira
ditional log burns, sending out all sorts OF
extravagant sparks, squibs, and crackers:
An unusual glow pervades the house, and
every one seems determined to be happy.
However poor the household, however nu
merous the little ones that gather round the
knees of sOrrowful maternity, u fowl is sure
to find its way to the pot, and even bit
of sweet cake, or a mOrsel of plain dessert
is eked out of the family resources. In
many humble homes, Christmas is the ami
versary of great household publication.
Only to see how the ceilings glitter with
fresh wash; how the dingy, moth-eaten
floors become almost white; how the mil
dewed panes grow transparent; how the
plates and dishes shine, each in it's proper
PLACES rare pleasure! 1t is fine to seek
the dark boughs of holly, often gorgeousiy
jeweled with punches of bloOd-red berries,
and the twinkling laurel-like branches of
ivy with which the good woman decorates
her candlesticks and polished tins, sticking
q little bit in every crevice and cOlgn OF
vantage, where glimpse of bright foliage
of fruit will q
eye and show to advantage And then the
Christmas candle, which has been hanging
by the wick u whole fortnight in the chand-
ler's window! How the children look at it,
and wonder how much it weighs! With
what pride the poor man lights it before
midnight with an unsteady hand, and face
avcrted from the light; whilst his wife
stands in his shadow, and q tear gathers to
her eyes, as she looks back at the long pro-
cession of Christmas candles which stream
with q fading light into fairer Past With
Christmas time, old faces catch up happy
reflections of youth, and young faces flush
with d divine excitement, like John Keats,s
grapes up to the surface full of happi-
ness" knew u venerable old friend, who,
of all times in the year, would dance only
at Christmas. In the chimney hooks you
may hear the breezy gossip of gray haired
people; and from all corners of the house
the merry chatter Of the little folks as they
speculate on sweetmeats and Christmas
boxes, and not last nor least, the raylshing
prospect of slides and snow-balls. II you
look abroad; putting your eye to the shit in
the shutter, you may see across the street
heaps of white abrupt gables and pendant
chimney stacks, throwing broad bars Of
ashen hue athwaEt the spotless roofs, with
the Waterman standing contemplatiyely on
the flags, his oiled hat glistening in the pure
tranquil moonlight. Perchance some poor
unfrfended mother or sister, some homeless
outcast, ragged and shivering, may catch
the practice, which good people have not
forgotten, of opening their doors and peck
cts to the poor at this touching season. Ever
the legalized cruelty of the Workhouse mol
lilies its severity before the Christmas fire
and our poorer brethren who sit, day aftel
day, between life and death, in it's cold an6
binding dungeons, get morsel of join
and pudding on the day of our Lords ma
tivity, which the system that starves then
officially recognises as merely the 25th da!
of the twelfth month. Our .jails also, throw
open their terrible doors, and permit TIN
worst criminal to receive little comfort