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QMESICKNESS, per- haps, liad brought him back. Old Peter Johansen buttoned his threadbare over- coat, blc\v warm breath on his rough hands and jumped to the ground. There was no riiilroad detective to grab him for riding that freight train, because this was the day be- fore Christmas. All but the homeless, like himself, seemed busy preparing for the Day of Days. Forty years. Peter reflected, since he last set toot in Clark City. It had been n year after the big earth- quake; a year after all hell broke loo-ti, killing his parents and sis- ter as they rot at dinner in the little lioiise on Viiie street.

Peter remembered: How he had co-iie home lrite that evening; ho\v m,» myth lieiynn quivering like a beast possessed; liow he had

Peter stood alone for s long time watching the star appear.

searched like a madman through ,the ruins of that shock-wracked, ﬁre-swept bungalow. Then. as Clark City begun rebuilding, he had drift- ed oil in a daze to roam up and down the earth-a ne'er-do-well, a hobo!

But always he remembered Linda, dear little sister Linda. In 40 years her memory alxvays came back stronger than ever on Christmas lEve, for it was then that they used ‘m climb Lookout Hill hand-in-hand ‘at dusk, watching the evening star 'rise in the heavens.

That, perhaps, was why he was yback this Christmas Eve.

i “Ali-host dusk now," he reﬂected, ‘trudging along Clark City's busy

thoroughfare. Christmas crowds jos- ltled him, for he was a hapless wan- fderer with no place to go.

No place to go? Not Peter! Soon he found his way to the old residen- tial district where Lookout Hill rose ‘like a sentinel.

“The same old hill," he told him- self. “Little Linda! If you were only here now to see your big brother! No-thaiik God you're not here, for your big brother is ashamed of him- tel!!!”

At the crest Peter stood alone for n long time, watching the star ap- pear as it had since that ﬁrst night over Bethlehem. He didn't notice the old lady until she spoke.

"Beautiful, that star, isn't it?"

Peter fumbled with his grease- [Itained cap.

i, “Yes'm, it is. Especially from Lookout Hill."

“Many years ago," she continued, almost in a trance, "my little broth- er and I used to watch that star rise in the heavens each Christmas Eve, until—" (she wiped s tear away)—"wc were separated some- how during the big earthquake. He was killed, they found out later.

"Each Christmas Eve ever since I've come back here, just to remem- ber him. I hope he's happy up there in Heaven."

Peter was staring at her, fairly ready to shriek, for it was Linda! No doubt about it, nowl

He recognized the tilt of her nose, ‘unchanged by the years; the fiimil- iar ring of a voice that somehow had failed to grow old. But he held

imself back, for Peter was othamed of himself.

Sho didn't notice him shuffle of!

fter awhile, for Linda was still ‘Watching the star. ; ‘In the freight yards he found on empty boxcar and bedded down un- bier some straw in a comer. After In while he felt the car move, and lomehow he was glad. l "Yes, it was Linda," he subbed r himself, "but I just couldn't tell

er. Thank God she's slivo and llsppy. And Thank God she re- members me on Christmas eve as I was, not as I am." \_A.ftcr nhwhillo be fell‘ asleep.

""1 '.‘_ i.l...ll.‘. ‘NJ-k ‘ ’

Cakes Printed li- Germany A famous Christmas cake in Ger- rlnsny is Aachen Printen, from which tho English word "prmt" is derived.

. In tho days before book-printing tho

ides of imprint belonged to the bsk- ing business to express tho making of patterns in cakes. Iiiany of these cakes have ﬁgures representing tho old gods Wotan and Thor.

Bnntn Msy Not Binoko Cigars Santa Claus, perhaps, doesn't mokc-o- he would be better in- ornpsd on the cuslitw of cigars. I

rpi ‘

.4 éilr or Chisiiiios

l.“ m? o/and F/dge/

IT WAS midnight on Christmas Eve. Seven-year-old Jack, having baffled the sandman since eight o'clock, tossed back the covers and crept down- stairs.

Now, at long last, he would learn the truth about Santa Claus. Man or myth? Chim- ney sweeper or a lovable old red-nosed gentleman?

When the clock struck one Jack was still sitting patiently in the chair by the ﬁreplace, watching the em- bers glow and wane. Tinsel on the nearby Christmas tree glistened. It was all very exciting, but; where was Kris Kringle?

The noise Jack heard a moment later might have been Santa but it didn't come from the chimney.

Quickly the boy jumped back in the shadows while he heard the din- ing room window raise slowly. A gush of cold air, heavy footsteps. and then Jack heard the window close.

Frightened, he crept forward un- til ltc could see where blue moon- light ﬁltered into the dining room. There Jack saw-mot Santa Claus but a miislzcd burglar, systematical- ly looting the silverware!

Seconds later his softly slippercd feet carried the lud upstairs into his parents’ bedroom. The boy shook his father.

“Dad? he whispered loudly, eyes blazing. “Dad! Wake up!"

"Grrumniph," czinie the sleepy answer.

"A burglar, Dad! Wake up! Call the police!"

Not ivniting, Jack reached for the bedside telephone himself. His moth- er still slumbercd.

"Operator?" he asked. "Send the police over to our house right away! There's a burglar downstairs!"

By that time it was out of Jack's hands. His parciiis were wide awake now, clinging to their hero

Jack reached for the telephone himself.

son and listening. During the next two minutes they heard a stark drama-downstairs the dining room window opened and closed. In the distance, growing ever nearer, was the hum of s motor which they knew would be the police car.

They heard it stop outside. Then came a shout, “Stop thief!" A brief scufﬂc, and they knew the burglar was captured.

Next morning Jack was swskened by his father.

“Son," he began, eyes twinkling, "I forgot to ask last night how you happened to hear that burglar."

Jack blushed.

"I wss downstairs, Dad, waiting for Santa Claus. Wanted to see if he really does come on Christmas eve."

His father laughed heartily.

"But Jack!" he protested. "Don't you know that Santa Claus never comes when little boys and girls are watching? I'll bet he's been here by this time, though. Let's go see!"

Downstairs J ack's surprise was di- vided between two equally fascinat- ing subjects. Around tho Christmas tree were more presents than he'd ever seen before, including s brand new bicycle!

But off to one side wu s jolly looking, blue-uniformed policeman.

“Sonny," the copper begun. "Thst burglar you captured lust night was ‘Lightning Pete,’ o molt notorious house breaker."

Jack's jaw dropped.

"Best of all," the policeman con- tinued, "there’s o $500 reward for his cspt e, and it all belongs to you. Here's tho check."

Jack could barely soy "Thank you," so amazed was he.

"I guess," he dnally mumbled, "that Santa Claus is wearing s blue “liars: theater-Li.

Shepherd Village Plays Bethlehem

Les Baux in France, s village of shepherds, puts on one of the most dramatic Christmas celebrations in tho world, and liu done it yearly for over s thousand years. The pou- nnts act out the whole Bethlehem story with res! oxen. Thousands of visitors como every Cbristmn eve to no tho event.

Christmas in Swodsn Sweden celebrates her Christmas December M with llsh and rtco por-

ridge. 4_

B~r (It-vs I: vVn-‘ON

ILL YARDLEY poked a

tentative eye outside his blanket. It was daylight, at last. Across the tiny cabin Jim was snoozing quietly, his measured breath almost drowned by the roaring wind outside.

Bill's eyes surveyed the cabin with its old stove and rickety furniture. Cozy enough, perhaps, but this was no way to spend an entire winter, even for the sake of geo- graphical accuracy. Several hun- dred miles to the south, in Winnipeg, the government office was waiting for early spring when Bill and Jim could ﬁnish their surveying assign- ment and bring back a report.

qP-lltﬂlu) The pilot dumped overboard s bugs bundle.

Ahead, meanwhile, were two months of this maddening snowbound si- lcnce.

Bill's glance drifted to the calen- dar. Suddenly he cciuyht his breath-

"Jim!" he shriekrd. “Wake up! “Jake up! Do you know what day this is?" w

Jim groaned, stirred a bit, and answered sleepily.

"Tuesday, ain't it? And so w!iat?"

“Jim! It's Christmas Eve!"

A few minutes later they found themselves staring blankly out the window, almost wishing they'd nev- er discovered it was Christmas.

It was kind of childish to let on-

that you cared, Bill thought. So he put on his parka and headed for the door.

"Let's forget it, Jim," he advised. "I'm going to look at our traps and get some fresh air. Be back soon!"

lt was no picnic, trudging through knee-deep drifts for two hours. To make it. worse, the traps were all empty. Even the animals were stay- ing inside in this weather.

“Wonder if they'll miss Christmas, too?" hi: mused as he neared the cabin.

Suddenly he heard a faint hum in the sky. It grew nearer. Unmis- takably a motor—an airplane!

Bill raced for the cabin door.

"A plane, Jim!" he cried. "Get some black smoke going up the chimney!" Then he raced out to the clearing.

The pilot saw him gestlculating wildly, or else he saw the fresh black smoke over the cabin. The big ship circled, ﬂew off to the north, turned and came back, ﬂying low. Over the clearing it almost stalled as the pilot dumped overboard a huge bundle that plummeted into the snow almost at‘ Bill's feet. Then he waved and sped away.

They got it inside, somehow, though they wanted to open the bun- dle right where it landed. Once the rope was torn loose an oilskin pouch ﬂew out. A note was inside. From the boss:

"In case you boys have forgot- ten," it read,."tomorrow‘s Christ- mas. l-lercwith the makings, includ- ing some presents your families asked us to send along."

Bill and Jim looked st each oil.- er, then they cheered.

"Merry Christmas?" asked Bill. "Why, it's tho best over! Wait'll you taste this turkey! !"

-_ n,\~ ii....,.

53 Sundays in Year According to the Gregorian cal- endar, every year has 53 days of the ono it begins on. Generally speak- ing, the year contains 53 Sundays every ﬂvo or six years. This oc- curred in 1928, 1933, 1939, and again in i944, 1950, 1956, 1961, 1967, etc. Tho United States nova! ob- servatory points outthst in any con- tinuous series of 28 years, ﬂvo have B8 Sundays, unless the series in- eludes o year whose number ends in two ciphers without its being a leap year, ss in 1700, 1800, 1900. When lesp year begins on Saturday, two of tho six-your periods foil con- ucuttvelm-Pbilsdolphin Inquirer.

Old-Time New Iosr Sorlons

Oldtime New England was serious on New Year's, as witness tho title of s book published thero in tho your of 1702 by one Richard Stnndfut: "A New Year's Gift for Fainting Souls. or, s llttlo handful of cordial comforts scattered through several answers to 16 questions and objec- tions: As also doubting Christians invited to Christ."

Chinese New Year's Greeting Tho Chinese New Your’: greeting

-rus__ci_iitgi.orriz'rowu GUARDIAN .

RESI-l snow crunched un-

der Dick Wright's shoes as he stomped into the waiting IOOITI.

Old Peter was still there, still minding his telegraph key as he had when Dick was a boy. But now it was Christ- mas; now Dick was home from the city, s successful young architect.

As he walked up to old Peter's grilled ticket window, Dick recalled the last time he stood in this station. Two and a half years ago, it was, the day after Jean had left for New York in search of a career.

"Just can't stand Marysville," she had told him. "You'll understand, Dick, won't you?"

He had forgotten as best he could. Nothing in Marysville for him then, either. There had been a quick de- cision, a closing of half-open doors, a tearful good-by to his parents and them-off to the city. It was odd how a blow like that could give a fellow determination. Today, just 30 months later, he was coming back home with a career already carved out.

Old Pete looked up from his sheaf of train orders.

“Well, Richard!" he cried. "Glad to sec you, boy, and a Merry Christ- mas! Your folks know you're com- inl?ll

“Merry Christmas to you, Pete!" Dick answered. It was nice, at

that, to see n familiar face. "Mind if I use your ‘phone? I caught an early train end Dad wasn't expect- ing me until tonight."

A few minutes later the old fam- ily car was carrying him home. His Dad looked older, and a mite wor-

“Heard from Jean, son?" he asked.

ried. Something was on his mind.

"Heard from Jean, son?" he ﬁnal- ly asked.

"No, Pop," he answered truthful- ly. The house loomed up ahead now. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just wonderin‘, son, that's all. Forget it. There's Mother wav- in' at us up yonder!"

But Dick couldn't forget it. Marys- ville and Jean were like ham and eggs. He thought about her when he stopped at the drugstore that night- they used to drink sodas there.

Maybe Dick was looking for more of those memories next morning when he started out alone on skis for Murray's hill. The-y used to play there in the winter, he and Jean.

"Forget it, you imbecile!" he snapped at himself. "That's a closed chapter in your life!"

It was a couple of hours later that he saw her. Skiing down Murray's hill for the last time he rounded Horseshoe bend to ﬂnd Jean direct- ly in his path! There was a shriek, a thud, and then four feet sticking out of a snowdrift.

"Jean!" he cried, unstrapping his skis and running to help her. "Are you hurt?"

It wss rather unromsnuc, per- haps, pulling her out feet ﬁrst. But she laughed at him and fell down again, pulling him after her.

"You're going to get your fsce washed for that, Mr. Wright," she cried.

Ho came up sputtering to ﬂnd her suddenly serious.

"Dick dear," she said, "I was wrong. Mother wrote that you'd be homo for Christmas and-well, I had to come too. It's you and Morysville that 1 want, not New York.‘ This morning when I saw you goingpost our house, I some- how knew that I should go with you. Not just todsy, Dick, but slwnyl!"

It was like hum and eggs, Dick thought, only tho next dsy was Christmas-sod Christmas meant tug-key!‘

Beginning of tho Now Your

Various dates wore usod in diffu- ont countries, for tho beginning of s your, but America followed tho Eng- lish custom of using tho date of most early Christian countries- obout tho bogtnnln of tho ecclesi- ntlcsl your. Tho rqgorlsn colon- dor, establishing January l u tho beginning of tho year, was adopt- edbyEnllilnd sndhorcoloniooin

is "Sui-bi," or "May joy bo yours," 1733-

SEC/AL ﬂan/ER)’

(A cinusrmns STORY)

5y R080.»- Whcolo r

DITIPS drab room over- locked a snow-covered roof. Not the» clean, cheery snow like they had back home on the farm but a murky gray covering on which rested the soot of a thou- sand city chimneys.

"So this is Christmas," she moaned, leaving her chair to pace the ﬂoor. "Oh! What I'd give t0 be back home tomorrow!"

Butthen, Edith had two Christ- mas presents to which she could look forward. Today, Christmas eve, the mailman MUST bring her annual package from home._ And tomorrow there would be Christmas dinner with Ken-dear Ken who was working so hard these days that he could hardly take time oﬂ! to think about Christmas.

Edith heard the bell ring down- stairs and she skipped i0 her door, opening it softly and waiting tensely while the old landlady, an-

Yes, it was the mailman! And then came the shrill cry: "Miss Harris! Mail for you!"

Edith practically leaped down- stairs, for there would be her pack- age from home. Then her heart sank, for the landlady handed her only two letters, a greeting card from her friend Margie and (of all things at Christmas!) a bill from the department store.

Edith climbed sorrowlully back to her room and wept. Something was wrong, for Mother and Dad never forgot her at Christmas. She cried spasmodically the rest of the day, while downstairs she heard the other roomers shouting Christmas greetings as they arrived and dc- parted.

But ﬁnally Edith consoled herself, for she could still look forward to Christmas dinner with Ken tomor- row!

He was due at two o'clock that day, and after church Edith hurried home to get ready. At 1:30 she was seated restlessly awaiting the doorbell.

She was still waiting at 2:30, for Ken did not arrive. And Edith was getting hungry.

Three o'clock passed, and Edith frowned.

“What could have happened to him?" she asked herself.

At four o'clock she cried. It was too much! First her family had for- gotten, snd now Ken had chosen Christmas day to tell her in this painful fashion that he didn't care!

At 6 p. m. misery began mingling with the pangs of hunger. Edith put on her coat and started to the corner restaurant. But she never got past the door. There she ran into s breathless Ken.

“Edith, dear!" he cried. "Sorry to be so late, but I knew you'd un- derstand when you got my note.”

'But—" Edith was confused, "I didn't receive any note, Ken."

"What? But I sent a special dc- livery A essage when the boss asked me to ﬁnish that lsboratoryexperi- ment this after- noon. What hap- pened to !t?"

The blundering old landlady an- swered him.

“Please come in or go out, and close the door," she barked from ,. the hall. Then- '

“Incidentally, Miss Harris, I for- got to give you these things. They arrived this afternoon."

She handed Edith the missing spe- cial delivery letter-and s huge package from home! Edith tore into the Christmas box and found anote from Mother. They'd had a bliz- zard; couldri’t get to town; she hoped Edith would get the package Christmas day.

A few minutes inter a happy Edith sat across the table from her Ken in the little restaurant around the corner.

"And now, dear," ho begun very carefully. "How about your Christ- mas present for me?"

"But I gsvc you the fountain pon, Ken." she protested.

"Yes, silly one, and I appreciated it. But if you want to make me still happier, listen to this. Tho buss come in tonight and said I'd dons such s dno job on that research project that ho was raising my sni- sry. Know what that means?"

"Not the faintest ides," Edith lied. For, after sll, you can't take the words out of s man's mouth when bo_'s s_i_:i_out tq_p_ropo_s_o!'

Eadgor Font

Ono of the mongol surviving Christians customs tho bsdgor font held at Ilcbeotor, Somerset. It woo started by poocbors in Norman tlmol, says the Montreal Harold, and has continued without s brook. The lads of the villsgo catch s badger, kill and dross it somo time before the feast. On Christmas ova itlsstrungonsopltovorobogo Bro at tho inn and cookodmlowly. WnQn l! ll Clii Diff-Y B116! it with ﬁngers and pen-halves; no cutlsry other than this is sliowod.

. . D t‘.'=\\' Pierre duloobovnn LD MARIE didn't quits! understand about Santa'- Claus, but her little Pierrel did. Pierre went to school with the other boys while Old Marie sewed dresses in the. sweat shop. It had been that way ever since Jacques died, two years after they left sun- ny France und came to New York.

"Mammal" little Pierre would ssk her at night, “Please, Momma, will Santa Claus bring me the violin from Rubens‘ pawn shop this Christ- mas?"

Then he would stare expectsntly while Marie tried to ﬁnd an answer.- She usually promised him Santa would, for little Pierre wanted the violin so badly. But as Christmas grew nearer the groceries and coal

Piecz, M’sicur, s penny! Slio cried to the passers-by.

and shoes used up all her savings»- there was nothing left for Pierre’! violin.

Itlarie was usually stolid, but she felt sad when she left the sweat shop Christmas eve. Little Pierre would be home waiting for Santa Claus

and the violin, Pierre had seen it ‘

in the window at Sam Rubens’ pawn shop only yesterday, a big ﬂve-do1- lsr price tag tied around its neck. How sad he would be if this Santa Claus fellow forgot him!

Marie was swept along in tho_ Christmas Eve traﬂic, downhearted. But despair gave way to triumph, for a plan suddenly came to her- amid this confusion: She would beg‘ for aims like her grnn'pere had dons back in Paris! These Americans- they seemed happy enough to helpl her on Christmas eve! . |

“Pleez, m'sicur, a penny!" she cried to the passers-by on Broad- way. "A penny for my leetle Pi- erre's violin!"

Marie had collected seventy-eight cents before the big Irish policeman saw her. I

"Here now, old gurrull" he pro-F tested. "Don't yez know ye can't‘ panhandle here? Come along now‘ to th’ station!” i

A few minutes later old Marie was pouring out her story to the gruff desk sergeant. She was confused.

“Thees panhandling," shs com- plained. "You say I cannot do it. But. I only try to get money for the; violin, so your Santa Claus wee‘:- come to my leetle Pierre. See'."'-' she held out her money-“I only need four dollars and twenty-two cents more!"

"We'll, now, that's different," tho sergeant replied. "Come boys"- he addressed the policemen gath- ered around his desk-"lefs kick in

the ﬁve dollars to buy a violin for .

Marie's little Pierre! loilrd now, and where's your Christmas spirit?" . A few minutes later a grateful old Marie was hurrying down the snowy covered side street to Sam Rubens" pawn shop. But nlasPSsm was just handing the violin to a well-dresed. old gentleman as Marie stormed in. “Pleez, m'sieurl" she cried. "You mus’ not buy it. The violin, she is, for my petit Pierre. See? I have}

ﬁve dollars!"

Tho white-crested purchaser was dumbfounded.

“But madame," he answered. "l have just bought it for my grsnd-, son's Christmas." _ l

“N'importel" Marie p-otested, sd-_ smant 110w. "You mus’ sell it to; me. The policeman, they have giv-y en me the money, see? My loetlo, Pierre, he will be so disappointed!"

The old man looked st Sam. l

"Have you another violin?"

"For seven dollar I got o better one." Sam's eyes lighted up. It looked like another solo.

"All right, madame," tho gentle- msn spoke to Marlo. "Here's your violin. Give mo the llvo dollars."

"Merci, m'_alcul‘l.'.'...Old Marlo cried. "My Pierre, ho will be so happy!" With that she doshod out into tho night, happy st lost.

Pierre was uloep when sho or- rlvod barrio, but bo found tho violin on the table next morning. It- lis- tenod like new inside the won or- bsaton case.

"Momma!" ho cried with gloo. "Momma! Tho violin! But bow- whore-who gave it to ma?" , '

Old Marie's oyoo ﬂiisd with turn.

"Santa Claus brought it, Pierre. 0f course-Santa Claus. Tlilil thorn was the policeman and tho kind grnn'poro . . ."

But Pierre didn't bur tho lost. only know {onto Clljll bodgrl

Lllllllllfllli" ' '

DECEMBER 13. 1941

Wares

The merry, innocent music of Scottish carols was 5° m morselcssly drowned in the thunder of the mzqrmmm thnt little of it survived Yet the people must have loves and clungtn thcirchnstmss songs, for toofrequem; ma,‘ ncords o! punishmmt for “pining, dsnsin, um an“, w fyltho csrrolles on Ycull Day. st ovln," or toi- "m, shout tn rlnsls Ind stimulus vwn v0 day caiiiti m,“ day." long after the “csrreling and wanton synglng 1,, u“ kirk" had been silenced the old simple ballads o! the Nativity lingered in the cotmlfyb folk music. and lllﬂllll) 1n mgny macs the words were translstions from the Gei- mm their rendering into homely Boots gave them n robun charm quite distinct from the spiritual loveliness of some ‘gush carols. So they song o! the Babe in tho Klingon-

"Quhen He was borne nanc did Him snib, To ly rycht law in till and Crib;

Ane 0x, and Asse. rytht underlie Refrcscheit his htunonltle."

IN VABED STRAIN . In some a. "mirry and sportsum" note sounded forth to herald the season of thanksgiving and rejoiclnig...

"Hay Zule now sing and insk myrtli, sen Christ this day to vs is borne."

In quieter vein were the words of another old liymn,_.

_ "we suld loue God and myrtle be, And dryve sway dispsir:

For Christ is cumin from hcvln sa hlc, Our fall for to repair."

T0 THE TUNE 0F "BALULALOW" loveliest of all is the carol set to the music o! that old

lullaby, "Bslulslow," s mingling o! tender sdorntlon sud .

royal splendour, as the following verses show:

"My Saul! and lyfe stand up and see Quha. lyis is an Crlbbe of tree;

Quhat Babe is that sac giude and fair? It. is Christ, Goddis Son and Heir.

O God that msdo sll creature,

How srtflhou now becomit sse poor, That on tho hay and straw will lie Among the asses, oxen, we?

And war the world ton tymes sac wyde, Cied oucr with gold, and slants of prydc. Unworthio it war. zit to ‘moo

Under Thy felt and stuio to be.

The Sylk and Sandal! ‘Thee to els, Ar hay, and sempill swelllins clots Quhnrin Thou glorls, greatest King, As Thou in Heaven war 1n Thy ring.

O my delr Hart, sung Jesus swelt, Prepair Thy crcddill in my Spxeit, And I ssll rock Theo in my hart. And neuer msir frn Thee depart.

“Bot. I ssl! praise Thee evermoir With ssngls swelt unto Thy gloir, The knees of my hart sail I bow, And sing that richt Baluladow."

PUNISHMENT FOR CABOLLEBS

Christmas had reigned with much pomp and pattern"! in Scotland 1on3 before the zealous ministers and kirk sessions began to ordain that "ou-rcllerls in sl! tym cum- ing be punlssit as fornlcstouris." and that all merry- mokers who celebrated the holy season by dancng tliwﬂsh the towns with masks and bells, by playing football, or bl’ "hurling with stollis on the streitis," should be put 1n the jougs or make similar penance for the better "kelping of a christian snd decent ordour shout the tymes observlt he sum superstltlotisllo and pmphonelle."

Prom light-hearted pire-Refonnotton days comes ii glow of richness and colour such as William Dunbar achieved l! the passing of “dully nycht" and the uprising o! the sun in “hevln imperial!" to hail the Saviour‘: birili. Joy-iﬂiPlftld his verses soar into s paienn of grandeur:-

“Archangcli, ongcllls, and doinpnstlonls. Tronls, poieststis, and marletrls seir, And si! ye hevinly operntionis,

Stcr, planeit, iii-moment, and speir.

Pym, crd, sir, and wetter clcir, To him give loving. most and lost, ‘rnst coins in to so melk nisnler: Et nobis Pucr nstus estt

"TWELVE YULE DAYS"

Less exalted is tho old traditions! Scots carol, the tho "Ifwelve Yule Days," that plrsido o! medioovs! court!!- ness through which we follow tho rlllant. kin! 811d u“ evor-lrtcressing generoslt,. The rlgmsrolc opens llkblll and simply enough 1-

"m king sent. his lady on the first Yule d”. A ' o-syo: Whs. learns my carol and carries it sway?"

But the days puss on to rweimi Night and "l! gifts will up from that. solitary peacock until we roiuh the climaxt-r “The king sent his lady on t-hs twelth Yo!“ ""

Three molds s-morry condos,

‘nine binds, n-morry hunting, an Arab-t“

Three swans s-merry swimmlnl.

Thrco ducks s-msrry laying, n bull that was brown. ,

Three goldsplnks, three starlings. s goose that was F! ~

Three piovcrs, three psi-mom. ii mrlnstﬁwfi

who learns my carol and carries it W!!!” d

Not content with this, mot-bar vmo ls somotimuzilflz! for full mosluro, tbwoh tho lift hints. st s failing interest on tbs lover's port. for:— ,

"Tho king sent his luly on the thirticsnth Yule dsya M ‘rhrso stalks oi merry corn, three maids s-inerrv I ing." - and so on. .

FIN IOII-Illl! IOOILAND"

A J00“:

N! tilt it bu IN! hid. .

"onsowinotidminmu-mci-rylwt-liﬁ- rtrumsmonwnsiiooiiisrd: milieu iwyawanmitqo d» vh- mtonhrvluitiutrbsll.

- ll Ounpuod mo! mama not aw"- m" “m” “lit. m vary null in numbsr. mow Q6011. mmﬁllﬂlfg

manna m l mmb“ W“ m, at Yulotidm- m l“ ‘

"Joy, glutinous. count WW”- ,,

PM. iibusnoo. mirth. l" "m “'11,”, gooilllll