The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1906-12-28

'wassail! wassail! over the town.
| Our toast it is white, our ale 1t is brown.
| Our bowl 1t is made of the maplin tree;
We be good fellows all; drink to thee"
In Scotland, on New Years eve
for some unknown reason called hog
many day-the doors of the houses
were thrown open at midnight to let
the old year out, and the new year in,
while in some of the towns, early in
| the evening poor children-"swad-
died" in sheets so folded up in front
as to form an inviting pocket-went
from door to door after bread and
small coin, announcing their arrival
by some naive song, shrilly given in
childish treble and enthusiasm.
| Rise up, gude-wife. and shake your
| feathers:
| Dinna think that we are beggars;
| We are BARNS come to play.
| And to seek our hogmany."
| Much excitement was manifested
over another Scottish custom. The
first person who entered house after
! the clock struck midnight New Years
eve was called a first footer," and
often parties of first footers went
about calling on friends and making
merry generally.
| In striking contrast to this frivolity
was the habit the next morning OF
opening the Scotch Bible at random,
verse in the chapter read containing
| prophecy to be made good by fate
during that New Year.
At all the courts of present-day Eu.
rope the New Year is celebrated with
great impressiveness, 1t being the of.
fetal feast, just as Christmas is a
| family one.
In Belgium, on New Years eve, the
children have special frolic tingling
with the thrill of suspense. Early in
| the day, all the door keys in the house
are spirited away from their locks
into small boys pockets. A pet rela-
tive, called a sugar aunt" or sugar
| uncle" is then beguiled into room,
and while her or his attention is d.
| verted, key is whisked out from its
| hiding place and click-a-ty-click the
door is locked! OF course the pris-
oner, confronted by hard-hearted,
giggling jailer, is glad to negotiate
| freedom at any price-a ransom's pos.
sibilities no doubt ranging from a
candy cane to rocking horse, accord
ing to auntie's indulgent humor or
the size of uncle's pocketbook.
The Germans have a very impress
sive old custom. At Frankfort-on-the-
Main in almost every house Is fam.
lily party, and at the first strike of
midnight from the cathedral all open
wide the windows, and-filled glasses
lifted in their hands-cry: "Presit
Neujahr!" Happy New Year."
France practically makes Christ.
mas of New Years day. ALI Paris is
en- fete, and the Latin Quarter jubilant
with song, fiddling, and droll farces,
while the poor, starved art student
splurges in all sorts of culinary ex-
travagances. In fact, even the beg
CARS are merry, singing instead of
whining their appeals for charity, and
dancing jig for SOU"
The French children find their
stockings filled by good St. Nicholas,
who in his Christmas rush must have
thanked his lucky star that these
young clients would not expect a pro-
fessional call until seven days after
he had attended to the impatient
American youngsters over the sea.
/ After a midday dejeuner Ia four
Ghetto, the younger members of the
family call on the older, and in the
evening there is grand reunion for
dinner.
Amid all this French gayety there Is
! that one pathetic little touch that so
often creeps into this rainbow world
| of ours, where tears mingle with the
sunshine of our smiles. If a member
of the family has died during the past
IL months, early on New Years morn
ing the near relatives meet at the
grave and lay upon it their offerings
of love and remembrance.
The Russians, following the Julian
calendar, do not celebrate their New
Years day until January Ii.
The grown-up, not to be outdone by
the small fry, now form a gorgeous
procession to pass under the critical
nose of the nobleman's upper window
Oxen, cows, goats and hogs, adorned
with evergreens and red berries, are
driven past, while old women bring
up the rear bearing gayly decorated
barnyard fowls as presents.
In our own country we Americans,
"half-pagan, half-Puritan." take our
New Year Enthusiastically. With
flashing eyes and smiling lips we
greet its dawn; dancing, feasting, up
roariously blowing our little tin horns.
And at the same time in our secret
hearts-the curtains of pride and con-
ventionality closely drawn-we sadly
sit beside the dying embers Of the
past years hopes and shiver at the
knocks of the unknown future at the
door MAY 6. R,sewAur