Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1914-11-27

should go back on paper. either.
But mebbe there's more 10 Christmas
than It knows aboutzo or than we
know about. Mebbe ne can do some
thing that won't Interfere with the pa
per we've all signed. and vet that'l
be something that is something. Meb-
be they's things to Use that amt new
er been used yet. oh. | dunno. Nor
l guess you dunno. LET us find ovt."
Christmas week came.
Cities by thousands made prepara-
ton. Great shops took on vast cargoes
of silk and Precious things and seemed
ready to sail about. distributing gifts
to the town. and thought better of it
and let folk come In numbers to them
to pay toll for what they took. Banks
opened their doors and poured out now
a little ~trickling stream of pay envel-
opes. now a torrent Of green and gold.
Flower stalls drew tribute from a mil
lion pots of earth where miracles had
been DONE. Pastry counters. those mock
commissariats. delicately masking as
servants to necessity. made ready their
pretty pretences to nutrition. The
woods came moving in-acres of living
green. taken in their sleep. their roots
left faithful to a tryst with the sap.
their tops summoned to bear a hybrid
fruitage. From cathedrals rose the
voices of children. now singing little
carols and hymns in praise Of the
Christ Child. now speaking little verses
in praise of the saint, Nicholas; now
clamoring for little new possessions.
And afar from the fields hat lay
empty about the clustered roofs of
towns came a chorus of voices of the
live things, beast and fowl, being offer
ed up in the gorgeous pagan rites of
the day.
Hitler and yonder in every city the
grown townsfolk ran. The most had
lists of names-Grace, Margaret. Laura.
Alice, Miriam, John. Philip, father,
mother-beautiful names and of rich
portent. so that, remembering the
time, one would have said that these
were entered there with some import
of special comradeship, of being face
to face, Of having realized in little
what will some day be true in large.
But on looking closer the lists were
found to have quite other connota-
lions, as Grace, bracelet: Margaret,
spangled scarf; Laura, chatting dish;
Philip, smoking set; father Memo:
Ask mother what she thinks he'd Hkel.
And every name, it seemed, stood for
some bestowal of new property, most
ly of luxuries, and chiefly of luxuries
of decoration. And the minds of the
buying adults were like lakes played
upon by clouds and storm birds and
lightning, and. to be sure, many stars,
but all in unutterable confusion.
Also from the cargo laden shops
there came other voices in thousands.
but these were mostly W And
when one. understanding Christmas.
listened to heal what part in it these
behind the counter played. he heard
from them no voice of sharing in the
theory of peace, or even of truce, but
instead:
'Two a yard and double width. Jew
elry is in the annex. Did you want
three pairs Of each? Wells and neck
wear three aisles over. Leather, glass
ware. baskets. ribbons, down the store
beyond the notions. Toys and dolls
are In the basement-toys and dolls
are in the basement. Jewelry is In
the annex
So that a great part of the town
seemed some strong chorus of invoca-
ton to new possessions.
~ - -. 49, o14AaC VNhnIn
areas of every own lay perforce with
in the days of Christmas week-it must
have been so, for there is only n cal
endar to embrace humanity, as there
is only one way of birth and breath
and death. one source of tears, one
functioning for laughter. But to these
reaches of the town the calendar was
like another thing. for. though it was
upon them in name, its very presence
was withdrawn. In those ill smelling
stairways and lofts there was little to
divulge the imminence of anything 9TH
er than themselves. And wherever
some echo of Christmas week had crept
the usefulness or the lust was for pos
session also. But here one could un-
derstand its insistence. So here b
voices said only, Il wish-I wish" and
81 choose this-and this" at windows.
or, eff | had back my nickel" Don't
you go expecting nothink!' And over
these went the whir of machinery,
beat of treadles. thrOb of engines or
the silence of forced idleness or of
the disease of dereliction. 1t was a
time of many pagan ob~servances. as
when some we're decked In precious
stuffs and some were thrown to lions.
To all these in the towns Christmas
week came. and of them all not many
stood silent and looked Christmas week
in the face. Yet it is a human expe-
rience that none is meant to die with
out sharing. for the season is the SYM