Middletown transcript., 1898-12-24
SANTA CLAUS
HANS RUPERT WALKS ALL THE WAY
FROM RUSSIA.

Great, Gallant Figure, With Top
Boots and Mighty PacL-Christmas
Customs of the FatherIand - Pro-
cession ON Christmas Eve.
Hans Rupert is the name of the
Santa Claus of Saxony given by the
simple, pious peasantry. "Hans Rup-
pert will arrive tonightp' the children
of Saxony cry all along the dear, dark
ening twilight of Christmas eve, as they
fatten their little Saxon noses against
/ the cottage window panes, peering out
along the winter roads for "our Hans
Rupert" ''Hans Rupert is coming
tonighti" say the simple hearted grown
up folk to one another, a people who
have one evening in the winter twilight
Of their hard, stern lives when it will
| be all glow and glamour and froth Of
| fun.
Hans Rupert comes from Russia,
from its silent mysteries Of steppe
and of SHOWS. But he is not a
Slav. Hans Rupert is not the tra-
ditional Santa Claus of the Teuton
Iand-a jolly old man with curly beard
and winking smile. "Hans Ruppert is
a tall, brawny, peasant looking fell
low, I" say the good Saxony folk with
sublime earnestness as if they had seen
him. Hans Rupert has muscles minted
from their own brave life of gray toll.
Hans Rupert walks all the way from
afar, from the Asiatic Russland and, at
every step he takes toward the Caucasus
chain, at every stride up and up, stil
up the ledges of its rock and bluff and
brae, across its brawling streams, now
down on the other side of its stern
shoulder shadowed in the star calm, at
every pace past the Russian villages
twinkling through the night 1nists like
sparklets struck off from the czar crown
way off there above the Neva, as he
foots it grandly-this great, grand, gal
liant Hans Ruppert-his top boots that
at the beginning Of the long Christmas
march reached only below the knee,
grow taller and taller, still higher-un-
til when he hears the Rhein-strom mur-
mur and the golden voice above the
Lorelei rock, and at last at the gates of
Berlin sees the mighty gleam of the
army Of the vaterland, the Hans Rup-
perish boots are up to the loins, ouiras-
sier fashion, accordion wrinkled and
mirror in their mighty polish the very
"Sword of Ny Illustrious GRANDPA
therI" And Hans Rupert stands a
grenadier, one of the sacred bodyguard
around an emperor, stands with star on
breast and double headed eagle on he'll
met, stands mighty ghost to deal
death to the foes of vaterland-until
next Christmas.
On his back, through all his long
trudge tonight, Hans Rupert carries
his pack. 1t is pack of good things.
Thou hast no Christmas tree within
that mighty bundle, Hansl The peasant
children have made the tree all ready
for Hans in the diligent purchase from
their little Saxon pfennige on the mar
ket day. Hans Rupert brings the gar
ments for the Christmas tree. Here in
his pack is the Christ child's hair, the
gold and silver fligree which Hans
will twist across the branches with his |
own brawny hands. Here are the can
dies, the Christ child's eyes, and the |
toys and the gifts, "the blessings that |
drop from the hands of Baby Jesus.
And now the procession forms at s |
o'clock on Christmas eve to go to see |
what Hans Rupert has brought to the |
little family. The procession begins |
with grandfather and grandmother, on
whose scanned and yelloWed cheeks |
glistens the gentle tear of age. Then |
follow the father and the mother and |
the unwedded uncles and aunts, and |
now the children, according to age and
size, who are awed in anticipation of
"our Hans Rupert" on the other side |
of that door toward which the process
sion is now moving. They stand up on
tiptoe and peer behind fathers stalwart
frame. rebuked by das mutterchen, with
a solid Saxon cuff on the unwilling ear.
Zach, mutterchen, it's heilige Nacht"
pleads the father, and mother moder-
ates. Here are the servants Of the house
hold, wearing their good Christmas
starch of check apron stiffness. How it
stands out in its buokram beautyl If it
were possible-which. the dear Herr
Gardener of us all forfend-the apple
cheeks of the good house girl glow with
a more fruity glisten as she gazes down
upon the spheric circumference Of
starch. The housemaid's g smile is laun-
dered, too, and it never leaves her lips
until that mysterious door off there is
opened by grandfather's trembling old
hand, and now some one in the Christ
mas procession has struck the sweet,
resonant, prolonging chords Of the zith-
, e,t a.ad the h5Fssaa rises as eEae ssf,HEe
concert" along the whole Of the house
holds heart:
heilige NachtI
Stille Nachtf
The door is thrown open, and only
the stalwart spirits-the Erdgeiste who
guard the scallops and volutes of the
Teutonio verb-oan comprehend the
and the meaning of the FAM
ily's EXPLANATIONS now. Hans Rupert
has done it all Hans Rupert has deAe
it all The tree glistens into gracious
charm. It is the aurora of the Divine
Child.
And then the good Saxon muscles fall
to, and fall, too, on supper. Now, the
supper is sweet feature of this great
evening. 1897. For only once year
does the marzipan come round-marzi-
pan, that dear cake, crusted with pow
dered almonds Only once year does
'stoken" come round, that dearest cake
with raisins-raisins plucked by Hans
RUPERT in that faroff mystery-raisins
hat grew and hadn't anything to do
with sour grapes.
But the supper passes, and the night
IS deepening. The eyes of childhood are
irooping The family rises and again
,ircles the Christmas tree, hand in hand
low, perhaps for the last time ON earth.
Who can foresee the years? May the
lear Christ child guard us alll-New
York Commercial Advertiser.
Too Much for the Admiral.