Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1898-01-13
cHRIsTMAs sToRlEs.
They May Not BE Art, hut Their In
Huence Is Good

They May Not BE Art, but Their In.
nuence Is Good.
1t is quite the custom nowadays.
among those who pose as being cult
| rated and critical, to express profound
contempt for many things we have
been in the habit of enjoying. Among
:hese in the Christmas story. which
seems in a fair way of being ridiculed
off the face of the earth. Critics have
! assailed it from every point of view, de-
| slaring that it was a monstrosity and
an offense in the sight of art, and an
/ abomination in literature. Rules and
recipes have been given by which the
| most inexperienced could not fail to
| compound a Christmas story that would
De as orthodox as the traditional plum
! pudding. 1t is only necessary 10 take
cold and bitter night, a garret with
the wind whistling through the holes
in the wall, and within a woman with
starving children clinging to her
| skirts. 1t is the night before Christ
mas, and the little ones ask pitifully
# Santa Claus will come. The mother
makes an evasive reply. and tucks them
Al last in bed and takes off her poor
shawl to cover them more warmly. She
sits down by fireless hearth, and sobs.
Alas, my poor Reginald; had YOU not
perished in the Klondilze, we would not
cow be starving" There is a knock
at the door, and enters a bearded man.
1t is the long-lost Reginald. with 81 .ooO,-
300 of gold dust in each pocket. A de-
Iightful sequel of plum pudding, turkey
and general rejoicing follows. Or else
the story may be the veracious and
probable narrative of the wayward son
who has ruined his father and broken
his mothers heart by his wild life.
Again it is Christmas eve, and he sits
>arousing in the saloon. He lifts the
glass of liquor to his lips, but, bark.
what sound is that? ltis the Christmas
hymn the Salvation Army is singing in
the street. 1t reminds the young des-
perado of home and mother. He sets
down the glass, wipes his eyes on the
butt of his revolver, and starts home
on new rendition of the prodigal son
act. Of course, all of us have read these
stories over thousand times, but what
of that? Does the great Christmas
story of all-the Divine story-ever
grow old and tiresome with repeatinpi
There have been many Christmases
since the first Christmas star shone
above baby's rude cradle, but the
Christmas spirit and the Christmas
cheer are just as true and just as real
now as they ever were. We like TO
think that at such time hard hearts
are touched with maccustomed ten
derness, that stingy hands relax their
closeness and give to some less fortu-
nate, that wanderers on land and sea
turn, in memory. at least, to the old
home where they were children, and
that at Christmas some thought of in
nocence, some tear of repentance and
regret must come to the hardened and
degraded. 1t is this thought of Christ
mas that runs through the homely and
familiar little Christmas story, and
we are better for it. We can do without Z
finely critical essays, and orchids. but
leave US at Christmas time the Christ
mas story, and the holly and the mirth
and cheer and sympathy that never
grow old or out of dRte.-N. o. Plea
Vune