The Bemidji pioneer., 1900-12-27
Ligbfins The Tree.

We have our share of ups and downs.
Y Our cares like other folk; 3s5 d.
The pocketbook is sometimes full,
We're sometimes nigh dead broke;
But once a year, at Chrismastime,
Our hearth is bright to see;
Then baby's hand just touches heaven
.zsa} When daddy lights the tree. &
For weeks and weeks the little ones
Have 1otted on this hour;
And mother, she has planned for It
Since summers sun and shower.
With here a nickel, there dime, Z
Put by where none should see,
A loving hoard against the night
y When daddy lights the tree y
The weest kid in mothers arms
Laughs out and clasps her hands.
The rest Of us on tistoe wait;
The grown-up brother stands
Where he can reach the topmost
branch,
Our Santa Claus to be, #
In that sweet hour of breathless Joy,
When daddy lights the tree.
, r 4 4 : . 9 -
Our grandpa says twas Just as fine
In days when he was young;
For every Christmas ages through
The happy bells have rung.
And daddy's head is growing gray.
But yet boy is he, .5
AS merry as the rest Of us,
When daddy lights the tree.
Z 8sEe Z ! x
Sbe Days HeiSbf and Depth.
Christmas realm is 5000 feet thick.
IT reaches in "a girdle round about
the earth spreading its breadth
from Greenland's icy mountains" to
where ''Afric's sunny fountains roll
down their golden sand" and in
height and depth extends from the
hospice of st. Bernard to the lower
levels of the great sale mines of Eu-
rope, 1000 feet below the surface OF
the ground, where men and entire fam
lilies have lived and worked for the
last six centuries From bleak st.
Bernard to blossoming Salisbury is /,
about 300 miles, but around one is per-
petual winter, with snow seldom alb
sent, and the fringe of its continuing
mantle ever near at hand, while in the
mines of the other is unending sum-
mer. At Christmastide 100 degrees Of
temperature separates the two, and
while the boundless snow-covered hills
of one glisten in the broadest diffused
and brightest light known to earth, the
contracted crystal walls Of the other
scintillate under the feeble rays from
restricted lanterns.
Thirty degrees below zero Is a FREE
quent temperature at the hospital
monastery Of ST. Bernard on Christ
mas day. There is seldom a traveller
over the famous pass OF the Penine
chain of Alps in that season, but there
is never Chistmas eve or Christmas
day the visitors do not join with the
two score monks of the Augustinian
order in the mass Of their church and
in the joys of the feast.
Then in the salt mines, miles away
and thousands of feet below, are all OF
these things, for in the vanited cham
bers, amid massive pillars of salt, is a
population of human beings not only
miners who work 1000 feet under
ground, but a permanent population
living in homes along streets hewn
out of mountain masses of crystal that
glistens under the artificial light neces-
sary in these depths. Many Of the pop
ulation seldom see the light of day. On
Christmas eve and on Christmas day
the echoes of the rock-ribbed cayerns
are awakened by children's voices. The
song, the merry laugh, the joyous
shouts in childish games and sports,
are heard. There are music and tho
dance, feasting and merry-making, the
brilliantly lighted and decorated gift
bearing tree that illumines diamond
like crystals that gather up the light
divide it into prisnnatie beauty and
cast it back again. &