Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1888-12-22


| in them all but a sad mockery Of the peace and
good will to men which best glorify the DAY and
time. For While that sort Of cheer il In the
midst Of starvation. eviction and unutterabie
wrong its dreadful ofensiveness made alone
F., possible by great walls and armed men. II IL
indeed q pitiable manner of rejoicing. But Il
| is still time with the gentry and nobility for
| great feasts and magnificent excesses This
| manor-house sends its folk and servants to that
one, or the gentry from dozen congregate at
| coursing, athletic games whisky and cards,
| and with the ladies' tea and spirit guzzlinR.
countryside gossip and 1irtations, rule the
sweet and sacred time. Great state and POM
pousness mark this coming and going over the
reawakened roads, and not the least interest
| ing study is found among the pallid. lip-com-
pressed peasantry, appearing in apathetic re-
sentiment along the way.
AT THE CASTLES
| 1t is the same, save that the retinues are
| greater, the feasts more tremendous. and more
respect is paid to prophecies and form. It
| should. however, be added for what good there
may be In 1t, that aside from profuse and ex-
uaordinary hospitality to kind and degree an
excellent showing Of giftmaking to servants,
tenants and tradesmen, as we'll az charity to
the poor, is made; q charity which though
seldom refused, bears too many scourging re-
minders with it to strike one spark of gratitude
In the consciously-wrouged Irish life and heart
In the cities, throngs surge and crowd with
eiatlon or despair in their faces, as with u.s.
But nowhere else on this earth does Christmas
time bring such shuddering. pallid, piteous
poverty to stand. stare and hunger for the
gioIles OF home-windows open, or the wonders
| OF shop-windows ablaze with what these des-
perately forsaken humans have never owned
or known. Ragged, filthy. sodden, forlorn,
bare-footed in mid-winter, with the slush and
snow freezing to their bloodless flesh, they are
| ten times ten thousand soul-holding monu-
ments to the surprising inhumanity Of govern
| ment by Christian man.
AMONG THE PEASANTS.
| While there is undoubtedly almost universal
reverence for the more sacred side of the
Christmas-tde, and truly know that at least
the Irish peasantry have an innate reverence
Tor all that Is sacred and good. Christmas is not
generally observed in its high and holy sense
IN Ireland. 1t is a time for much that is tender
and worthy, but also one for deplorable excess.
In decoration the ivy and holly are everywhere
seen and procurable; and a tiny sprig Of the
mlstletoe conspicuously appears in all the
homes of the more favored classes. Rich or
poor, Catholic or Protestant. every family will
possess ''Christmas-block" of ash, which is
the favorite. or Of .bog-deal." found in the
Irish peat-banks and boys This is to Ireland
as the yule-log to England and it burns
brightly for the homecoming of every heart
the home may own.
PASSING THE CHRISTMAS AT HOME
10 sentiment and determination more inn
pressive and unvarying, save with the Irish no.
bility, than in any other land know. And on
Christmas eve itself there cannot be found
among the lowly classes a human soul not a
! lost one, that Is not there or sometime there
within the glow and warmth. With the hum
bier villagers everywhere. and always with the
peasantry of the south and west the Christ
mas-mold' or huge, long candle, weighing from
one to two pounds, if its price needs be begged
. M &c al, b.
eve. 1t will simply irrevocably be had. The
bog-deal block is fired: the doors are flung
wide open for friend. mendicant or enemy to
enter with cead mile .fdihe "a thousand times
welcome); the mammoth candle is lighted to
burn out, but never be extinguished: and
while there is constant going and coming it is
softly done. There is always a circle of eager
faces about the Fireplace, where strange weird
ever Old and ever new, tales. Astounding in re-
hglous sentiment are told. while the half-lights
dance fairy-like among the blackened century
old thatch-rafters above. To midnight mass
nearly all repair; then the ''tea-breakfast'
Is had; those who have saved enough brew
great bowls of punch; those who have not
get along quite as well upon the stirring po-
teen; and as the day comes H. Irish registering
with ali its liberal biiarity begins.
HUNTING THE WREN.
But Christrnas-tme in Ireland is one of I'M
speakable loss to the bird families of tiny
"AOhS. LIS uaScus VI the wren nave
luminous place in literature. Half a million
Irish children with kippens and clubs are beat
ing about the hedges for victims. Sacredly
protected during every other day Of the year,
the wren is now sought with ferocious yelling
of
Come hunen the wren. says Robin to Bobbin;
Come huntin the wren, says Richard To Robin;
Come huntin' the wren, says Jack iilaone:
Come huntin' the wren. says every one!
The wren is hunted. for. according TO the
superstition, it must be found; its mangled lit
tie body is be-ribboned and dangled i'm a rush.
cage. or hung from a holly-branch. and with
this strange hint to alms-giving swaying aloft.
hordes OF youngsters shrieking-
I'VE hunted the wren through frost and snow;
We hunted the wren seven miles more:
We knoc ked linn Gown and he could not see;
And We brought him home in a holly tree"
crowd the streets in Irish Christmas DAYS:
knock at homes, and are given coin; and when
the night comes hold such wakes over the dead
wrens only master-hand could paint or de-
scribe. The origin of this strange custom can
not be found. 1t is lost even in that rare and
fecund birth spot for SO much that gives Ire
land surprising interest-that wild, weird.
whimsical, loveable phantasy called Irish ira
dition.' EDGAR L. WAKEMAx.
The Bustle Must Go.
PARIsIANS so DECLARE-THE LATEST STYLE OF
GOWN DESCRIpFn