Aberdeen herald. [volume] (Aberdeen, Chehalis County, W.T.) 1886-1917, 1894-12-27

versal pubic press-the editorials, the
long, inevitable historical articles, the
cheerful, moralizing appeals for general
charity and good deeds, the last usually
from woman's pen, are exactly like
those ground out in 's4 -, '64, "a, "A,
and so on ad infnitum and ad nauseam.
The lay sermons at the end CT all maya
zines agree with these entirely in infor
nation vouchsafed, in mellow reminis-
cences. in rather patronizing greetings to
their large clientele Encyclopedias are
searched, the same old bits from IA
vorite carols given. Carols are kindly
explained. The ''boar's head" they all
bring is at last associated in general
way with the brain that so bores me
that l sympathizo just little with that
old tyrant, Caligula. who wished the
Roman people had but one neck that he
might cut it off at blow.
"Gallinbursti" was the name of the
old original bore, not boar. Let us push
him once for all down the back entry
of time" and have little rest.
I do not believe that these facts,
many Of them doubtful; these quota
tions; these gentle lessons, SO many,
many times exhumed and reprinted,
are even read through by any one. Why
feel obliged to follow on in the same old
path: I am going to dare to give anoth
er side Of the subject, one that will find
an answering echo in many an honest
heart for after one has arrived at mid
die age he or she, married or unmar-
ried, finds the recurrence of Thanksgiv.
ing and Christmas rather sad occasions,
when one must try to push away the
past, shut the eyes to the dear dead
faces that come up so wildly, forget
oneself in making the time pass pleas
antlv for those whose lives are still I'M
sullied by sin or sorrow or bitter dis
illusions and try to give the children as
good time as possible.
Christmas should be exclusively a
children's day. Let us give it to them,
who can find glowing delight in trans
parent myths, a few toys and bags of
popcorn and bright colored sugar plums.
For Us grownups it has degenerated in
to laborious farce that to some is ap-
preaching the tragic. Presents must be
Gle, relatives expect remembrances, and
especially intimate friends, not forget
ting a set Of claimants who only send
you greeting and cheap card, but care
fully estimate the cash value Of your
enforced remem brance and treat you
accordingly. The rich waste thousands
in endeavoring to excel each other in
needless trinkets, bric-a- brac, bonbons,
superhuous gems, luxurious nothings,
big dinners, costly wines, illustrating
that text so true, yet so difficult to ex-
plain, to those less fortunate, "To him
that hath shall be given" or, in every
day parlance, 'The Lord gives apples to
those who have no teeth" It is with
such simply "a quid pro quo and there
is very little honest merriment in the
system.
In big, blessed, unbroken, congenial
families the ideal Christmas is often
realized, where the boys and girls return
with families Of their own, never forget
ting the old people, return loaded with
gifts and goodies, and bringing the
lively music of happy, satisfied hearts.
But to the starved out, the depressed,
who make brave pretense of being at
peace and gladstone, it is hard part to
play. In stories written expressly for
such people the old lover returns faith
full and fond the generous old bachelor
carries away captive the youngest, pref
test maiden of the lot. Alas in real
life the young f1irt. captivates the aunt's
most devoted standby and laughs at the
ancient bachelor who tries to be gallant.
One old bachelor confessed to me last
year that he was so forlorn at the glad
Yuletide that he wished he could be
made unconscious until it was over. He
longed to skip it and escape from its de-
pressing horrors. AS he must live right
through it, however dismal the expert
ence, he would always take the cars for
a long trip, or even cross the ocean,
armed with lot of exciting novels to
drive away sad thoughts. He was fine
looking, prosperous, popular fellow, and
l know his generosity to others to have
been unbounded. He made Christmas a
day Of feasting and junketing to many.
All that does not cure the aching old
heart.
Throw off the conventional shackles
and don't try to be SO terribly. SO I'M
naturally, jovial yourself, and soon the
smiles on the dear faces, as yet free
from lines of care and sorrow, will be
reflected way down in each lonely heart.
Then we shall not have to say, with
Longfellov-. How inexpressibly sad are
al; holidays.' KATE SANBoRS.
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Christmas Carols.