The Marion daily mirror. (Marion, Ohio) 1892-1912, 1911-12-08
The Christmas nnnk.


In the house Of Memory is a sacred
room. the latch-string Of which is all
ways hanging out. And yet the room
is not for every one; It reminds me II
the sensitive plant; let anybody in
wade 1t calously. at the first unsym-
pathetic step upon the threshold it
shinks and closes fast 1t is not for
such.
In the room are our dearest treas
ures, which from time TO time we
love to touch ana regard, as suits our
mood; boyhood's doughnut Jar, child
hoods sweetheart, a smile. a familiar
expression long unvoiced, an old
garden, a moonlight night,
song, a waltz rhythm. the sea, the
mountains, Mother, Father, one June
day--a heterogeneous assortment like
the assortment in a mothers drawer
of odds and ends saved, I is scarce
known why, but subtly appealing.
Thus Is treasured up our assortment.
lH that sacred, secret room. The ma
jority of us disclose it shyly, tenta-
lively. But when occasionally is
found. oftimes, quite by accident, q
kindred spirit who appreciates such
hoard and who has, therefore
heard of his own, ah, what a bond we
feel!
And amidst this assortment is the
Christmas book. If to you. scornful
reader, the phrase in its singuarity
awakens no responsive throb--if in
the three words you recognize no
magic qualities, no Open, sesame"
to your sacred room-then you had
best not waste your time further In
trying to get satisfaction or enlighten
ment by perusai of this little treatise
But with those kin of mine, brothers
and sisters who gladly acknowledge
the claims of n common. endearing
retrospection. / would chat for mo-
ment of the Christmas Book
In the days of the Christmas book
(our Christmas book, gentle audi
ence), Christmas books were reck-
oned one by one, not, as now by the
half-dozen and the dozen. IL came
upon the Sunday-school tree. from
teacher" or upon the home tree or
in the home stocking, with inscrip.
tion of Uncle, Aunt, Father. Mother.
And 1t would be counted insignificant
enough, ! fear, arraigned to show
cause and exposed in the bold white
light of today. Its gold might seem
tawdry. outshone by the tinsol.
'tSnow-White and Rose Red" Cor
was 1t "Rose-Red and Snow-White?")
this was one "the Christmas book"
a marvellous set OF fairy-tales. Do
YOU recall IL? or perchance volume
of the Grimms-or a children of the
Frontier"-or a "Rollo" book--or an
other elsie book"--or a Robinson
crusoe." or Swiss Family Robin
son." or Green Mountain Boys" or
a Little Women" or an Under the
Lilacs," or-but If now your eye Is
kindling, If you smile, then do / know
that title is rushing 10 your lips.
and that we are mutually certain, one
of the other; and like old cronies
over a pot of tea or a tankard of cider
we may cluster closer and are fairly
launched into condolences. The little
room will hold and welcome us all.
The Christmas book would not at
tract attention. from the eager mer-
curial throng, beside the Christmas
books of the present; lavish are they
in their regalia, so unhesitant i'm their
assertions. No artist is too high for
expending his best upon their covers
and pages. and the cunning OF man
and Of machinery is strained to the
utmost. The wonders of the universe,
of science. and Of nature. are put into
fable; the greatest story-tellers are
employed In its wealth of text ana
picture the Christmas book for the
child surpasses the book for the
adult. Proportions have been re-
versed. Butu In our loving ken. yours
and mine, cronies all, still there re.
mains, supreme, our the Christmas
bood. Edwin l.. Sabin in December
Llppincotts.