The daily morning Astorian. [volume] (Astoria, Oregon) 1883-1899, 1895-12-25

suspect tle OtNerB OF cdTfylnB-WeTe cOu-
Quoted by some sort of mental trans
terrence and were written with an ink
invisible to everyone but the owner OF
the book, and that suddenly at odd mo-
ments or in the most unexpected places
O man or woman would remember the
value Of some Christmas present given to
some ono else Immediately thereupon
the entry was mentally transferred to
and inscribed upon the account book
page, and the possessor Of the book was
seized with a desire to see how the whole
thing stood. This surmise of mine was
confirmed by a few sentences of talk
which drifted toward me through the fog
from modest little Mrs Lowman and the
magnificent, dashing Mrs. Alva Wintring-
ham, the wife of many millions.
They had been school girls together as
| happened TO know, and lifelong friends.
The old friendship had been kept up by
gallant efforts, even after Mrs Wintring-
ham became so abnormally rich through
matrimony. And every year Mrs. Low
man. who was the wife of an army cap
tain and of a small income, which he had
in addition to his starvellng pay, had
given to Mrs. Wintringham, the wife Of
millions q Christmas present And
every year Mrs. Wintringham had given
much greater value than what Mrs. Low
man had given her that the advantage
was immensely on Mrs. Lowmans SIDE
In short, Christmas had always been
profitable" for Mrs. Lowman, MS far as
Mrs. Wintringham was concerned.
But Mrs. Lowman was not of the ad-
vanced 14-year-cld type Instead OF re-
iolcing in this excess Of profit to her ac-
count she was oppressed by it,
one day, when she was immersed in
the misery of preparing for the joyous
Christmas season, she said frankly to
Mrs. Wintringham: See here, Clara,
can't go on this way much longer. Every
year / pinch and strain and economize,
so as to be able to give you moderately
handsome Christmas present And then,
after all my struggles, you give me things
that don't cost you an effort-not so
much as lifting your fnger-but are
worth three times what / send to yon.
Now | can't stand. 1t any longer, and
won't! This year I'm going to give you
some little, inexpensive trille. want
you to bear that in mind, and treat me
in just the same way"
And now saw them meet in the white
fog, and heard Mrs. Lowman repeat all
this. Then she added, with vigorous re-
proach: After all l said, Clara, too! l
sent you that little ten-dollar silver vase
and you have stolen a march on me by
giving me a superb centerpiece for the
dinner table-something l am not rich
enough to live up to, anyway-which is
worth five times the price Of my vase.
It's too bad: too bad! Next year
shan't send you anything and l hope you
won't send me anything. There!"
Mrs. Lowman said this just after eX-
amining the mental entries in her l'ttiC
book Mrs. Wintringnam, listening to
her, looked greatly relieved, and grasped
Mrs. Lowman's hand warmly: Dear,
dear Lucy!' she exclaimed, with-a happy
smile, then, perhaps, we shall have a
real Christmas for the first time since we
were girls For, at least we shall eX-
change good wishes and a Christmas card
or some simple gift we have made with
our own hands"
AS | begin to move about and to pene-
trate a little deeper into the fog, T real
lied more and more clearly that my
friends, who were enveloped in this OBJ
scuring medium, were often just as much
disturbed at getting toe great a return
for their outlay as they were if they
found that their Christmas account
showed deficit on their side.
/ came to the conclusion that the whole
difficulty lay in the fact that the spirit
of Christmas had become commercial and
mercenary. and this was the reason why,
in the midst of their hilarity and would
be good cheer, so many of them looked
wretched, anxious and careworn.
If they had spent more than they re-
ceived they were unhappy, and the more
reflective among them were equally
troubled If they had received more than
they gave, because then they felt that,
sooner or later, they would be compelled
to make the odds good.
Then vision of the old. simple, home
like Christmas seemed to dawn and to
grow and glow through the fog. The
faces of my friends changed to an eX-
preston Of genial contentment They be-
gan TO look more like happy children,
even in their mature and fashionable
habiliments though they did not at all
resemble the over-sagacious l4-year-old
child whose remarks prompted my rev.
erie.
And just as | was saying to myself:
"Oh, what a pity the true Christmas
spirit has become distorted! How l wish
Christmas was here again. so that we
could try 1t all over and do it better"
behold, the fog lifted
| became aware that | had doZed while
sitting before the open wood fire. and
that the fire was smoking. Over at the
other end of the room the Christmas tree
stood in a misty blaze of little candles
waiting for the children. 1t was Christ
mas eve,
The dialogue between the 14-year-old
girl and the elderly child of 20, ! now re-
membered, had taken place last year
and had come back to me just as l fell
asleep
And now l felt sure that we would
celebrate this Christmas in a much bet
ter spirit, with more of religious feeling
and of simplicity and of good win than
we had celebrated hitherto.
GEORGE PARSONS IATHROp
In the n. Y. Herald.