Port Royal standard and commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, 1876-01-06
These GOOD OLD DAYS.
oh for the e.. cd Old Days Of the Long As'

Oh for the T.. cd Old Days of the Long Ago:
Ahi those were the days when Santa
Claus was a veritable parsonage, and no
childish lips dared to scoff at him as a
myth There were chimneys then
worth speaking of-great, wide, old
fashioned tireplaces with plenty OF room
for the good little man to descend with
all his treasures, and to fill the stockings
at his leisure, while he warmed himself
over the red embers of the half-burnt
logs. And all around the chimney place
were the pretty tiles, in blue and white,
like the old-fashioned tea sets OF our
prandmothers. And even the tiles re-
peated the sweet Christmas legend as
their quaint little pictures represented
the various scenes OF the nativity. There
was the lovely Babe in the manger, with
blue rays of light, heavens blue, en-
circling his infant head; there was Mary
with blue-fowing robe-heaven's blue
again-and there were the Magi kneel-
ing in alteration and offering gifts; there
were the humble oxen, too, with their
large eyes full of mute alteration; there
we're the stars, and all the shining host
of angels with spreading wings and Gu
rious little harps in their hands, chant
ing that first Christmas carol; there was
the brilliant star of the Orient guiding
the travellers to Bethlehem; there was
Herod, in his palace, eagerly question
inc the wise men of the East; and there
were the shepherds on the plain, tend
ing their Aocks by night, and listening
with awe and wonder to the voices
chanting in the skies! All this sweet,
marvellous story was to be read in the
blue and white old fashioned tiles set in
the wide mantelpiece-and what pref
tier story than this for the children to
read, as they gathered in the long win
ter evenings around the blazing fire,
and conned the pictured legend DER and
o'er9 It was easily read by the Light OF
the fire; easily read by the unlettered as
we'll as the learned; by the little lsping
prattler at the knee; and the uncultured
Slave who sat in the background.
And then the stockings which hungi In
the snug chimney corner! They were
all homespun, knit by the mothers busy
hands in those same long winter even
ings, when the click Of the shining
needles kept up sort Of merry tune, as
the mother rocked in her great easy
chair and told old stories to the eager
eyed little ones.
But, alas! the chimney-corners ara
gone; the pretty tiles are cast away and
broken forever; the rush-bottomed rock
ing-chair has not now even a nook In
the garret, for it has totally passed
away; the knitting needles, too, are
gone-for the mother knits no more
stockings now-and, as for st. Nick the
wise little folks of modern days sneer at
his good d-natured majesty, and he, too,
has taken his rubicund figure and comi-
cal visage into the dim land of the
past!
We have heaters now, and pianos, and
gas in our houses, and other luxuries too
numerous to mention, which our grand
mothers never dreamed of-and, In
fact, which they seemed to exist very
we'll without-and SO we have done with
rush-bottomed chairs and chimney-cor-
ners forever.
But still there are some of the pleas
ant old customs at Christmas which old
Father Time has spared us. There
stands the Christmas tree, brilliant with
twinkling lights, and splendid with
gifts. All! that tree belongs to the past
as well as to the present, for what is it
but the same old mistletoe bough which
hung in castle and hall, and gladdened
the poorest cottage with its bit OF smil-
ing verdure, as it looked merrily into
the grim face of old winter2