The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1897-12-23
NEW YEAR REVERIES,

Two rich men were slipping wine in
the exclusive dining room of New
York clubhouse. Each had seen about
forty years. Each had a. private in
come of not far from that figure of
thousands per year. Well kept, not
profligate, were they, for they were too
bright to throw away life.
''You would tire of Mexico" drawled
one Of them. II have been wandering
about down there, with my private
car, for year. How's Dresden?'
my dear fellow, so did I get tired
of Dresden. Five years, don't you
know. You know how dull Europe is.
I've been over the pond, too, frequent
ly. wish some chap would discover
a brand-new Europe or some other
new place"
"Ah, yes,' sighed the first speaker:
there's nothing new. We have seen
it all. But"-and his eye suddenly
grew brighter and his hand held his
champagne at halt as he spoke-"I
found a wine in an old refectory in a
monastery of Mexico that was the most
''Where?" exclaimed his friend.
"Give me the address!' And a few
days later he started on a journey of
over three thousand seven hundred
and fifty miles for new sensation in
his WORKOUT world-a novel sip of
wine. t.'
There are thousands of men and
women in old aristocratic countries
and hundreds in young republican
America to whom it seems almost that
real new year can come. Life Is old
in sensations. They have already seen
and felt it all. But there is way to
renew life to them. It is to touch the
the country, the suffering times, the
wants of weary world. All that be-
cause it gives life, from within, new
purpose, lnselfish and wishing to serve
others, would transform the very ex-
lstence of such men.
The seventeenth President began life
as tailor. It is an honorable calling.
Let us suppose an honest tailor sitting
at his ease on New Years day. He
hates the thought of the drudgery of
tomorrow. He looks forward to his
workroom, top floor, back, dingy win
dows looking on back yards and their
garniture of hung out laundries. His
companions the hot goose, the skele-
| ton garments half finished hanging on
the wall, hanks of thread that kinks
and knots, broad bench on which he
| squats and crowds his lungs into his
feeble heart. He wishes for new
year. How can he have it? Let him
receive the love Of God into his heart
Let him forget self. Then, 10! tomor.
row his workroom is moved, as it were
to the front of the shop. It's windows
look out on the flashing Hudson, the
Palisades, and even to the gates Of the
eternal city by the sea Of glass. His
thread runs smoothly, his scissors are
gold and his shears silver. The skele.
ton garments around the room seem t
be finished for angels. He sings new
song, for his life is accomplishing
thankful and unselfish. God knows
that this is the only way in which. thou
sands Of the bravest and best Of thu
world can have a new year. They
must renew their own spirits from
within and above. And God knows
that this is the best Of all kinds of {
new year possible to us all.
] can see the hardy milkman stand
ing on his doorstep at two o'clock o
the still dark new day Of 1897. Coli
stars are two-o' clock in-the morning
stars. There is hard grind Of tn,
wheels over the echoing streets. Shiv
ering on his perch, he notes the GLOW
of the midwinter sunrise. over acre
of roofs where in palatial homes tn,
,ich are vet sleeping. The quiet 4