Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1886-12-23

Huttering every woman it met, and
twisting the signs and scuffling with the
wooden Indians at the cigar stores !;
whistling in at key-holes and rafting
window-shutters and tree-boxes, for all
the world like hilarious wind whose
temperance charter had expired, and
who had crept under every screen-door
on the street, and gone on regular
breeze just because it was Christmas
time. And the December sun, looking
down at the antics of the wind, loitered
along the western sky to watch the fun,
getting little cloudy himself, and
growing redder in the face as it came
nearer his bedtime, and finally paint
ing the sky red as he said goodnight,
just as might be expected of sun that
is raised in Boston, and celebrates 'fast
day. with "hoss race" and turkey
shoot, and comes West to find room to
finish the day in.
And humanity caught the infection of
the hour, and made ready to celebrate
the holiday in the human manner, by
gorging itself into general dyspepsia.
In the palace and in the pig pen, holi-
day means pretty much the same thing,
an extra allowance of feed and full ra-
tions of enjoyment and repentance.
Hail, then, oh Merry Christmas time
Eat, drink and be merry, and don't for
get the doctors telephone number. Is
1T not the hottest holiday of the year
Feed up, then, that our hearts may be
warm and our minds enlightened. What,
no, without there, another key of was
sail! Stay, good friends, the end is not
yet. Here's another drawing of rare
old pie, fresh tap, that will raise the
cookies of your heart. And here's a
mountain of ripe old salad that tastes
of the wood, and ye couldn't digest it
with stone crusher. All, the world
was young when the hen in that salad
lost her teeth and learned to crow
Down she goes; he liveth well who feed
eth well, and in these stirring times of
gallop and gulp, these days of trough
and nose-bag, he keepeth holy day who
gorgeth most in the shortest time. Fall
to, with fork and spoon! More plum
pudding for the children. Fill them
from chine to chin Ho, there! A drum
stick for the baby! What he can't eat
he can rub over his face, and what he
can't get on his face he can smear over
grandma's rich black silk, bless him
Here, thou lettering varlet; more soft
victuals for grandpa! What hale old age
is there where he with lusty jaws doth
gum the cheering hash. Now silence
all, while grandpa tells how he and Alb
ner Grizzlepate ate Christmas dinner
with the Esquimaux in Yucatan in 1929.
What! He chokes A vest buckle in the
hash? Pound his senile back! Lead him
away Thank Heaven, we're saved. On
with the feed (! The improved, automatic,
silent feed. This is what plays the
Dickens with Christmas.
AS the gray twilight of Christmas Eve
deepened into night the air fairly quiv-
cred with the anticipations of the NOR
rows jollity. The glittering stars
tWlnkled and ShOne as never they
twinkled on any other night; the G cam
ing lights in church and home and store
laughed back at the stars, and the CLEANS
from the shops where they sold things
to eat laughed the longest and loudest.
The world and the air and the sky were
scintillant with merriment, and it
seemed that all creation rejoiced, and
there was no dark corner in this happy
earth where misery lurked and sorrow
dropped her tears in loneliness. But,
There's not a string attuned to mirth
But has its chord in melancholy
Cut that out and paste it in your Hood,
unless you have it there already. When
every body is laughing, somebody is
crying. The time for me to dance is the
time for you to weep. You'd think so,
if ever you should see me dance. At
every feast that ever was spread some
mourning dyspeptic sat with gnawing
stomach, timidly regaling himself with
toast and tea, or else recklessly piling up
wrath against the morrow of retribution.
At every wedding that ever was or ever
will be somebody sits back in shadowy
corner, dismally weeping throughout the
ceremony, in damp, audible, distressing
OK SYLl