Evening Star Newspaper, December 19, 1896, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1896—28- PAGES, a CHRISTMAS IN PARIS — How the Holidays Are Enjoyed by the American Colonists. “QUIET” Un MIDNIGHT MASS IN THE MADELEINE The Five Classes of Americans in the Gay French Capital. THE BOULEVARDS AT NIGHT ning Star. mber 1, 1896. HE FIVE C of Americans in ris look forward to Christmas differ- ently. Those living in small apartments are ering if they get an Invitation from some one living a lar or a ing house. 7 pants of sty ling houses give great thought to working up 4 handsome merrymaking, worthy of their reputation. Householders in big apartments wonder how far they are bound to entertain. Passing tourists in the hotels to see the Christmas fai! in boa And Latin quar- ter students—their universal mark ts im- pecuniosity—do not neglect to take advan- tage of the liberal season to write home pathetic letters with full details of the price of coal in Par Yet when Christmas und they will find themselves snug s they always have done in A Foreign Custom. Christmas in a small ready-furnished Par- 4s apartment is not the gayest feast in all the world. It is regularly a mother and two daughters, or three girds, or—better—two girls and a chaperon, who undertake this keeping house in a dear capital, from mo- tives of economy. For 300 francs they have a cozy enough little flat, all furnished, to the crockery and glassware, the bed-cover- ing and the kitchen utensils. Sheets towels, silverware and napkins may be con tracted for—a reasonable weekly serv: And what they cat and what it costs is no one’s affair. They are at home—“‘so much more comfortable than in a pension”—and have an “afternoon,” when they give tea to those who come. But, ah! the rapture of an invitation out, no matter where. In a Fashionable Pe: Decidedly a fashionable pension is the most genial place in which to spend a Paris Christmas. That depression which comes to all expatriated ones, the tender, remin- iscent sadness of the Christmastide itself, is bes ers. The pension I know best—it is a smart Make It Seem Real. and spacious hotel de famille, and utterly repudiates the name of boarding house— contains a household made up of mixed ele- ments. There are young ladies from the same city who will not know each other because they are not in the same set at ho here a man and South Amert- carrying their bust- pay court to these ernately, with great men and maidens who come masters a la mod singing ame 4 und France. ‘There are girls with their mothers, doing the «rand tour. There are rich widows, rich old maids, rich married ladies with their husbands safe at home to watch thelr interests and send on the monthly check. The ordinary occupation of these wealthy females is to briskly hasten to the Louvre er Bon Marche each morning, where they borne in the midst of other suffer-j | ylan long trips along the boulevards | them. | it fs, will be al (MAS EVE. sometimes make a purchase. have bought so many things no easy matter without duplicating. Christ- mas comes to them with a new thriil. It gives another opportunity to buy. Were it net for etiquette these Ladies Bountiful would shower down gifts on all the other boarders—cheap embroidered handkerchiefs, vretched little ivory tablets, cheap plated warette bargain gloves, misfit pulse damaged neckties, shelf-worn, . and all the inventory of handise, which it is the chief solace of their Paris residence to be accumulating. As it is, gifts figure quite too largely. Three thoughtless, ostentatious and good- ve} idle women have it in their power But as they Iready, it is warmer: A Boarding House Proposal. to upse. the whole pension and breed a plague of present-giv: which is full of inconvenience. Half the people in the house are young, existing on the monthly check. To be forced into buying mutual gifts might easily mean the height of inconvenience to And yet becase the ball has been set rolling. one and must turn out Christ- mas day, and thence along till New Yeor and spend mone elessly. A Real Christmas. It is a real Chr: nevertheless. It comes high, but It is envied by the lonely ones, shivering in their wretched little “homelike” apartments. The house pro- vides a splendid Christmas tree, on which there hangs a gift for every gu The givis—and wealthy married ladies—are ali sweetly dressed for dancing. The young men have their smoking jackets and loud brocade waistcoats. There is mistletoe and holly, and squeais may be heard from every corner. This is France, the land of sweet and cheap champagne. At the corner gro- cery you may buy good brands as low five francs fifty, and there are E cho yagne that come as low as one franc iguiy-five. The popping of the champagne punctuate the happy uproar. The -stra—piano, violins, flute and one trikes up the first waltz of the night. Hurrah for Christmas eve in Pa It is a loud and merry hour, that vacses all too quickly. For at half-past 10 there always comes a lull. Half of the merry- makers have made parties to attend the celebrated Paris midnight mass of Christ- mas eve, and one must hurry off to find a place in one of the great churches. Ther~ is a skurrying upstairs for stouter sho and other hasty changes. Down they troop again, enveloped in their brand-new furs, which later on are to cause such sen- sation and such jealousy at home. There is a piling into cabs, and then, still flushed and bolsterous, they clatter over the Par isian asphalt io the holy places. You would not blame them for the seeming levity could you but know them and their cir cumstances. For the past week they nave been fighting against tears and moping far from home and friends. This burst of riot, mingling the dance with prayer, is One Real Christma: thrust on them. They are the sport of op- portunity, and they mean well. Little Bil- lee in the story book walked home from the midnight mass in holy silence, filled with good resolutions. Evidently he did not live in one of these smart pensions. In the Madeleine. But we will know how to be serious, too, when once we cross the threshold of the Madeline. This noble church, immense as ly more than half filled at 10 o’clock. At this hour the great front doors are closed, and people are allowed to | enter only by a little side door, far around on the west side. A line forms, and ad- mission is gained slowly. Among these good people, mostly French, our young iks are not made to feel thelr gaiety has seen mistimed. They are gay, too, these comfortable, roly-poly Paris’ mammas, avnties and grandmothers, with the troops children who will never stand still. | Waitirg in a line 1s a great lark for them. | And, besides, they are full of a hundred projects and surprises. The crowd is chat- tering and giggling as it slowly winds its way to the side door. It is a cheering sight to see so many common soldiers who have not forgotten their duty to religion. Al- though they have but one short night, they do not grudge two hours of it spent thus. ‘The devotion of the great crowd is infec- tious, and the simple Christmas hymns with which the choir of the Madeleine is wont to while away the waiting hours are sooth- ing and farviliar. In the American Church of the Avenue Hoche the American habit of female voices in the choir and florid music is maintained. But here, as in most Paris churches, the simple canticle is deemed more homely and appropriate. The Midnight Mass. Half-past 10, 11, half-past 11, 12, the time is passing to “The Angels In Our Moun- tains,” “Adeste Fideles” and “Nouvelle Agrecable!"” Then the voices are silent for @ time, and a soft, low prelude ts played at the organ. Then, as the church clock sounds the stroke of midnight, the voices are lifted up in the universal “Novel” of the present day, beginning with the words “Christian Midnight!” This is sung usually to the music of Adam, which ts a distinc- tion any composer might be prdud of. One is always glad te have accomplished the no Inconsiderable task of getting in- side the Madeleine and assisting at. the midnight mass of Christmas eve. It is an undertaking that requires determination and patience, but its rewarl goes with it. As the little parties of Americans move out the great church dgors, beneath the wonderful Greek portico and down the iong flights of steps to the Bouleyard and the rue Royale, their foreign Christmas seems more real to them. On the Boulevard. The transformation from the church in- terior to the street is wonderful. Inside, all peaceful, decent, reverent and worthy. Outside, on the great main street of Paris one strikes a real maelstrom of up- roar:ous loudness, filled with colored lights, Joud cries, uninterrupted jostling, banter and flirtation. The wide Boulevard is lined with little booths that stand along the sidewalk. Each has its blazing lights to best show off its stock of Christmas spe- cialties. I: is a paradise of inexpensive plenty, the very place to hunt up worth- less Christmas gifts for those we do not Icve. Seduced by all this gayety ard brightness that strings down the Boule- verd two miles and more and makes it ike a great night feast as bright cs day, some members of the pension party always break away to seek adventure on their cwn account. The others hasten home to take the dance up where they left it, feel- ing mightily important to be able to re- prove the stay-at-homes for sloth worldiness. There will always Fer about 1 a.m., a supper that forms part of a great universal after-midnight feed throughout all France. It is the Revefl- lon! : Déwn on the Boulevard the straying ones encounter restaurant and cafe doors wide swinging and hospitable smells of spiced wine and sweet savory black sau- sage—whcse aroma nas been known to penetrate @ mile. Into the eating houses they must turn. It the univ al move. Everybody is eating, everybody is drinking, everybody pounding, singing and hallooing. Christmas eve in Paris a loud and joy- cus feast. Christmas Morning. When Christmas morning dawns there -s a tendency to lie abed which is courageous- ly combated by the great mags of our good Americars. The American society church is that of the Avenue d’Alma—the Ameri- can Church of the Holy Trinity—presided over by the Rev. Dr. Morgan. It is Angli- can or American Episcopalian, as you choose. ‘They have an early celebration at 8 a.m. The high service, fully choral, with sermon, takes place at il. And there is a Christmas evensong at p.m. The greatest names of the colony turn out for the later morning service. The music is particu- larly fine. Here you will see the smartest gowns In Paris, bar none, for our ladies, be it said in their favor, know more about this subject far than do their Paris sisters. In this atmosphere of luxury and supreme well-being the unhappy one whose home is far away again forgets his pains a while. Some, to keep always moving thus, make it a practice to attend a Christmas matinee, d for this purpose the Opera Comique has lcng been known as the rendezvous. Lone- ly Americans here encounter each other. be- ween the acts on Christmas afternoon. A convulsive grasp of the hand, a husky “Merry Christmas,” and they part. It is tea trying. The Dinner. In the pensions they are engaged with their great dinner. Their French cooks, by long training, manage to compass such shes as roast turkey with alleged. cran- berry sauce, which they will never sweeten propert, canned sweet corn, into which they never wil! put cream and butter; pumpkin pie, which they make wonderfully vell; and the plum pudding, which comes # tin from England. These Christmas inners, which are always in the middle of the day, arrange the afterncon for ali who eat them. is a solemn afternoon, dull, semnelent and headachy, and has its wind- up in an ignominious sprawl, with sterter- ous breathing and unconscicusness. So Christrre. Christmas in a foreign * ance. land. I think we all, after a certain age, find Christmas full enough of vain regrets, sad reminiscences and certain questionings. It may be only proper that we thus should find it. This may be one of the sacred of the day. But in a city highly ad- ed for mirth and jollity, a capital of pleasure unique in the world, a Babylon, a universal fair, a home of art and music and longed-for goal of good Americans, scme very meager Christmases have been passed by your fellow countrymen. STERLING HEILIG. QUEER RHODE ISLAND TWINS. Oyster and Quahaug Joined After the Manner of Siumese Chang and Eng. From the Providence Journal. Oysters have a well-known habit of at- iaching themselves to any object they may come in contact with in the water. An old shoe or boot, a bottle, another oyster, or 4 small quahaug are familiar examples, out in almost every Instance where an oy! ler and a quahaug are found grown to cach other, one is much smaller than the other. Exceptions to this rule are so un- common that when an oysterman of Pa tuxet found an oyster and a quahaug <t- tached to each other and of the same size, the oldest clammers and oystermen in Pawiuxet said they had never seen the like before. ‘fhe oyster was a large one, at least six or seven years old, and the quahaug, to which it was attached at the hinge of the shell, was within a year of the same age, znd had also attained its full yrow:h. Both bivalves were handsome specimens, and both were alive. The two, united yet separate, were placed on exhibition in the window of Green's fish market, where a large part of the male population of the village asseembied at some time during the day or evening. There they were viewed by men of experience in the handling of auahaugs and oysiers, who all said they had never seen, another instance where a full-grown oyster and quahaug had united. Now, alas, only the shells remain to tell the tale of this natural curiosity. Fred Remington, @ clerk in the market, opened both bivalves last week, and extract2d the meat vwiihovlt breaking the hinges or separating the shells. With the cages of each shell slightly apart, showing the in- terior, the two are more of a curiosity than before. see AN EXCELLENT OBJECT. Remarkable Christmas Etymo! Young Emerson Beacon. From the New York Herald. The Chicago matron rested her gloved hand vpon the scant locks of ten-year-old Emerson Beacon. “Emerson,” she chortled, Claws going to bring oo? “He will, I trust,” said the Boston child, “confer upon me 2 more complete and eso- teric comprehension. The Aryan root SA, as you remember, Mrs. Porker, is from the ancient GA, which in the original signities good. Skeeter, in his incomparable diction- ary, bears me out in the derivation. CLA, going back to the original, indicates ob- jectivity, hence an object, something no- ticeable to the sense, a thing, to use the Angio-Saxon word sign. But to resume, Mrs. Porker, I apprehend that at this Christmas son I shall perhaps be the recipient of a bicycle, a set of Ibsen, a polo degree from Harvard, a check tor ¥¢00—' “It's plain to be seen, Emmy,” gurgled Mrs. Porker, “that you think His Whiskers is a good thing.” a A Parson's Blegst From the Atlanta Constitution, In one of the rural districts a Georgia minister was invited to dine with a citizen who, though wealthy, furnished his table poorly. When they were seated the host said: ’ “Times air mighty tight, parson, an’ we ain't got nothing much ter set before you, but, sich as it is, you air welcome. Will you ask a blessin’ on what you see?” ‘fhe parson observing the scant repast ¥fted up his voice and said: “Lord, make us thankful for what we see, and may we be able to find it when we reach for it. Let it not escape us and rove a snere and a delusion. Amen. Phonk you for the greens,” omy “what is Santy pea ties AN ARMY POST STORY 1. . BY CLARENCE L. CULLEN. 5 eS Wilson joined the battery at Fort Can- by a little while befgre the territory of Washingtor. became a Btate. He had en!'stel at Serttle as a recruit, and was therefore classed as a “prairie ’thicken,” as soldiers then were who “took om” anywhere west of the Mississippi. We aly had a good many reasons for believing, ‘however, that Wil- son was not quite so ‘mitch of a recru!t as his Seattle enlistment’ récord showed on its face. None of us could remember having sold:ered wita him anywhere, and his face was unfamiliar to alll ‘Nevertheless, from the day he arrived at ‘Canby in charge of the Seattle batch of reeruits, cf which, ac- cording to the list he handed to the offi- cer of the day, he was one, he carried him- self too much like a soldier to feol those of us who had been In the outfit a long time. Old Sergcant Fisher took the recruits out to the parade ground, the morning af- ter the'r arrival, to begin to lick them into shape in the awkward squad. Wilson was among them. He tried hard te assume the recruit’s clumsiness, but we could see that the job was a little too much for him. He was too naturally graceful a man in his carriage for that, and his shoulders were too square. At the command of execution forgot himself every time, and stepped out with the left foot. A recruit never does that. It takes at least s.x months to teach a recruit that he is possessed of a left foot. Old Fisher gave “To the rear, merch!” suddenly, and it caught Wilson napping. Alone of the squad, he whirled on the ball of his left foot and took a step rearward, while the rest of the squad ig- norantly ploughed on. It was a bad give- away, and Wilson's dark, handsome face flushed. Old Fisher's cye was sharp, if he had been canteen sergeant for six years, “Holt!” he commanded the squad of re- cruits, and, in their own time, one by one, they halted. “Wilson, fall out.” Wilson fell out, and for a time stocd by watching cid Fisher drill the rookies in the facings. After awhile the sergeant, having brought the squad to a rest, walked over to Wilson, locked him over for a minute with a sort of half sm'le, and said: “What's the use?” “Nene,” said Wilson, probably seeing that the game was up so far as old F'sher was concerned. All the same, not to make the officers suspicious, the drill sergeant took Wilson cut with the awkward squad every day for a time. It was a fine thing to see Wil- son handle his rifle when the guns were dished out to the rookies for the first tiie. A young lieutenant, fresh from: West Point, happened to drop into the day room, and he stopped for a while to watch the new men trying to get through the manual. His eye naturally drifted to Wilson, who would have attracted attention in ‘the middle rank of a regiment, for he certainly was a fine-looking chap. Wilson was trying to handle his gun as if he had never seen one Lefore. We couldn't help but grin jack- ass.cally as we stood around, although we were careful not to let the little West Point shavetall se> us do it, for we all liked Wil- son, and didn’t want ® see him get into any trouble. Wilson tried so hard to make it appear that he didn’t even know what a rifle was made for that he dropped it while the squad was standing at a rifle parade rest. It made the devil's own clatter, and the little lieutenant’s eyes snapped. “Gawk!” he muttered, while Wilson, red and nervous, reachedout and picked up the gun. > ” “Attention!” shouted ‘the drill sergeant. Wilson alone of the batch was like a ram. rod before the echoes of the command died away in the day room, “Right shoulder—hums!” Wilson’s gun came to his shoulder with a snap, the three Movements perfect, while the other fellows of the squad were sluggishly coming to a port, a present, a carry, everything but a Fight shoulder. “Fix—bay-o-nets!” Wilson's was fixed with the rapidity and precision of an ex- pert. “Well,” said the ltue Heutenant under his breath, as he turned away with a kind of Puzzled twinkle in his eye. Wilson was put to.duty the next day, and caught commanding officer's orderly the first time he went op guard. All of us who cceupied bunks in’ th” old-timers’ squad com had to confess:ttmat Wilson was as fine a soldter as we, had ever sev None of us ever asked him what he had been in before ne curve al four lays out a8 @ recruit’ ‘Witson - was a very quiet man, well educated—we used to se, him reading queer-locking books in foreign languages, as he Jay on his bunk on rainy e didn’t care t el him with questions. | It was none Opoet blasted business, anyhow. A young whelp of a rookie was watching Wilson daddyack his cartridge belt one day, and, Ilke the pup that he was, he said so that the other fellows in the room could hear him: “Oho, but hasn't Wilson done that a lot climes before, Va Just like to know!” ne of us reached over, caught the cub by the scruff of the neck ‘and droppe) fue over the bannisters of the double-decker quarters. Wilson said nothing. although there was an odd sort of gleam in his black eyes. There were no allusions to bis past after that, you can bet. Fort Canby is a beautiful, gloomy rust. It is at the mouth of the Columbia river under the shadow of the mountain that forms the extremity of Cape Disappoint- ment. Oh, but the Pacific batters wild wildly at those black rocks. In the quar. ters we could always,hear the roar of the sea. The sound used to break some of us up a little, kind of, at night, after the lights went out. I don't know why. Tae sea is mournful, anyhow, | think. A hun- dred_ salmon fishermen from Astoria and 41 Waco got upset and drowned on that wicked Columbia bar while we were there, Well, anyhow, Wilson used to spend nearly all of the time that he wasn't on duty down by the sea. He had a vig dragon tattooed on his knotty left. arm, and a barkentine in three colors on his breast. Besides, he knew a great deal about Japan and South America, as some of us found out without being ti:quisitive, and we knew that he had been to sea. When, how, or in what capacity, we had no idea. But he was fond of the sight: of the sea. Only once in a while did he join in the foot ball game with the gang on the parade ground. When he did, he always kicked a goal. On pay days some of us used to go across the trail from the post to Il Waco, three: miles away— and there were a lot of ugly looking black bears on that trail, too, I can tell you—and —well, we'd load up on Jawbones’ barbar- ous Siwash whisky. Jawhones was the half-breed Siwash who sold it. Wilson never went along with us. He didn’t drink. We kind 0” liked him for that, too, for, with big heads and sore stomachs, we were all swearing off every pay day—after our money was spent at Jawbon No, Wilson put in his off duty time tramping through the pine and spruce for- ests along the beach, with a stick in his hand, always alone. One day the tide rushed in suddenly and caught him at the foot of the cape. He had to climb the 00-foot rock, which was’ almost perpen- dicular. .I wouldn't have tried tt for a million, even to save myself from drown- o' ing. _He smiled a little when I told him so. He's been aloft hips, you know. Well, this is the. It has been a long time in coming, but you had. to under- stand what manner-pf. man Wilson w: One bright day tageehiry up at. the 16 house yelled down & sergeant of the guard that an Américg} man-of-war was coming over the bar. Canby Is a ‘saluting station, so that men-of-war are always re- ported by the guard. Wilson was walking number one post, in front of the guard house, and he repeated the Nghthouse sen- try’s call to the sergeant inside, When the old guard was marched off, relieved by the new one, Wilson went up to the lighthouse with one of us to have a look through the glass at the man-of-war. He grew a little pale as he made her out through the coast guard’s binocular, but sald nothing. She was one of the old bi: ships of the oid navy, ard had dro) her mud hook off Astoria, ten miles the bay. Her steam launch, darcing = the rollers ‘way off in the distance, was Heading our way as Wilson looked thr. “the glass. As the launch began to come near Wilson went down to the little dock alone. The officer of the day and three nm of the guard were on the dock, waiting to receive the naval officer in the launch, who carried the compliments of the commanding officer of the ship to the commanding officer of our post. ‘The launch puffed up alongside the dock, and, as the guard came tO @ ‘present, a fine-looking young naval stepped ashore. He was the liv! i of Wil- son, only younger. All of fellows of the guard- noticed. the resem! instantiy, but they did see Wilson, who had hur- riedly left. the dock when his counterpart with the sword-and@ -the silver anchors on his blouse collar stepped from the launch. ‘The young naval officer and the ufficer of the day got into an ambulance and were Mrs. BURTON HARRISON, ONE OF THE POPULAR WRITERS FOR 1887. A new and ve: experiences. unus A TRUE GENTLEMAN. i AARON’S WIFE. A RESCUE. exceedingly realistic and A STRANGE EXPERIMENT. AN ODD EXPERIENCE. A WAYSIDE PATIENT. DONG SUN YET. Tn this group of stories some. pl stribed vividly and wit! STARRY VINT’S DEFENCE. THE TOURTELOT CASE. and Stories for Girls —all profusel Articles of Miscellany — Anecdote, 12-Color Calendar FREE. driven to the commanding officer's quarters. Mess ca!l wert in a few minutes, and we were all marched in to dinner. The m hall was on the floor below the sleeping quarters. We nad scarcely sat down and begun io bully the kitchen police before we heard a loud shot from the floor above. We made a rush for the stairs to find out what the matter was. As we'scrambled up the aim- bulance carrying the young naval officer, returning to the launch from his mission, drew up out in front of the quarters. The sea vfficer had heard the shot, and wa: Lepping out of the ambulance to investi- gate. We found Wilson sitting on the edge of his bunk, in his shirt sleeves. His shirt was soaked with blood, and there was a big hole in his right breast. His rifle lay on the floor beside the bunk. He had taken off his right shoe and pulled the trigger with his great toe. He was very white the face, but smiling. “Well,” he said in a low stooped over to examine him, can sit around the stove and have som thing to .alk about on rainy afternoons how. But it’s all right—all right—” Just then the young naval officer pushed through the crowd of us around the bunk. When he caught sight of his brother's face he reeled, and one of us had to catch him to prevent him from faliing. “Jack! Oh, my God!" was all the young fellow with the silver anchor could say. It was easy for us fellows standing around to see how his heart was aching under his blouse. “It's all right, Ed., all right—" We all sneaked away then. Well. no, I can’t say that any of us felt very hilarious just then for a fact. The little lieutenant of our battery went in. In a few minutes he came out, just almost carrying the young naval officer, a man about twice as big as he was. ‘We all volunieered for the firing party, and the four young wind-pushers who trumpeted for the batteries quarreled over which of them should blow “taps” over the grave. We'd all spent many an after- noon cleaning our guns after firing vol- leys who had passed from our outfit over the divide, but that certainly was the—well, the breakingest-up funeral that Canby ever saw. Wilson's brother was there, in full dress. But the name that was printed by the post painter on Wilson’s head stone was not Wilson. It was the same name as that of the young naval officer. The ceme- tery ai Canby Is only a couple of hundred feet from the roaring sea. In a few weeks two ladies, one quite old and white-haired, the other young, pretty, but sad-looking, came to Canby in mourning. They had “Wilson's” body sent somewhere back to the states. It was a log time before we got at the inside of the story. Then we found out that “Wilson” bad gotten his commission at West Point and had resigned a year after his graduation on account of some diffi- culty. He had shipped in the navy as a bluejacket. After his first cruise he had been drafted to a ship on which his brother, who had meanwhile graduated with distinc- tion at Annapolis, was serving as a watch and division officer. The humiliation of it had been too much for him, and “Wilson” had promptly deserted. Then we got him. He had probably been meditating suicide for a long time, and the final sight of his brother’s face in such an off-the-earth place as Fort Canby wrought upon him as the working of a fate that seemed to him to be crushing. Thus the rifle ball. We did not talk of him around the stove at all. But his gun was taken out of the rifle rack and stowed away out of sight. =e A PROPER CHRISTMAS GIFT. How Aunt Tabitha’s Counsel U Two Fond Hearts, From the New York Herald. She had been reading “Aunt Tabitha's Coursel to Young Society Buds’ and had fallen into a brown study. “Yes,” she mused, “Tabby is quite right. It is unbecoming for a young woman to ac- cept any Christmas present of value from @ young man.” That night Algernon Thinklittle threw himself prostrate before her. “Take me, Ernestine,” he implored; “take this bleeding heart as a Yuletide remem- brarce—an earnest of years of happiness to come. She didn’t hesitate. She accepted him so quickly that his head swam in a delirium of joy. ited —__+e-+_____ A Defective Grace. From Life. Jackey—“But, mammea, it's not about what I'm going:to recelye that it’s so hard to be contented. S ‘Mrs, Earle—“What ts they key 7” gu about what at tne woe ae: re- ceive. attractive feature in the volume for 1897 will be six 1 incidents, and humorous an in plot and incident, and will be read with eager interest. Ministers’ Stories. These are delightfully written, and although deeply | athetic, they cheer by their pervadin Fath and right almost universally found Rev. Frederic Palmer. Rev. Isaac O. Ranki A MINISTER'S EXPERIENCE. Rev. Waiter Mitchell. > 2 Doctors’ Stories. Tragedies known only to the Physician are described in this jascinating group of stories. { Dr. W. A. Hammond. Dr. Sarah Hughes Graves. Lawyers’ Stories. hases of legal life are de- thrilling interest. AN OFFICE-BOY’S ADVENTURE. THE LITTLE RIVER MYSTERY. Established 1827. The readers of Tax Companton for pathetic events in professions! life h in the love of | uman character. . | CAMP LOW. THE ANARCHIST, TORAZU SAGITA. Dr. C. W. Harwood. Homer Greene. H. C. Merwin. Stewart Mitchell. W. E. Maclelian. ‘TILDY. THE LAST DAY. SON’S TRIUMPH. The timely Editorials, the * THE YOUTH’S COMPANION The Companion of the Whole Family. 189; large number of the most fa:sous men and wo: attractive are the many brillian! features offered. : Stories for Gverybody. groups of short stories dealing with Reporters’ Stories. The rush and rivalry, the excitement and perplexities, the methods and secrets of newspaperdom are d THE BLANKS IN THE “CLARION.” A YOUNG SAVAGE. ’ A LOST SENSATION. § A GIRL WHO BECAME A REPORTER. ; . Professors’ Storics. gies. trials and gaieties of college life are pictured the fullest humor, appreciation and sympathy. IN THE DEAN'S ROOMS. THIRD STAGE OF DISCIPLINE. Prof. H. A. Beers. Teachers’ Stories. These narratives breathe the very spirit of schoo! life. and will be found packed with wholesome entertainme: AN UNCONSCIOUS HERO. ‘THE CoMPANION also announces for 1897, Four Absorbing Serials, Stories of Adventure on Land and Sea, illustrated by popular artists. umor, Travel, etc. “Nature and Science” Departments give weekly much valuable informa x Double Holida in most condensed form. y One of the most beautiful CALENDARS issued this year will be given to each New Subscriber to The Companion. It is made up of Four Charming Pictures in color, beautifully executed. Its size is 10 by 24 inches. The subjects are Gelightfully attractive. This Calendar is published exclusively by The Youth’s Companion and could not be sold in Art Stores for less than $1.00. 52 Weeks for $1.75. 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Stories for Boys More then two thousand Current Topics” and Numbers. rent Events,” eS W THE SURNAME GREEN. The Name Offers Much Difficulty Genenlogists. From English Notes and Queries. The surname Green seems to have been one offering much difficulty to writers on surnames and to genealogists, for, in en- deavoring to trace its origin, that it has rot one but miny origins is proved, while the variety of {ts sources carries with the conviction that under the one covering surname Green reside people of altogether different blcod end lineage who tear it: for Green, in the style atte, de la, de, or del Green, was applied to any person who lived by a village green, to distinguish him; hence it became a surname for him and his descendarts, and the number of different ttocks could exly be limited by the numb: of village greens, and perhaps not even by that, since there m: > been more than ene person living by the same village green who could yet be particularized by that ad- dition. Besides the descendants of each of these there may be the descendants of Godwinus Grenesune or Grenessone, who held at Win- chester under d the Confessor (vide “Winton Domesday’), and who, it ts as- sumed, was a Dane or foreigner invited or brought over by Edward; of Grene, who held of Harold at Coceham (Cookham), x (vide “Exchequer Domesday”), and considering the connections ef Har- old, may also have been a Dane or Seandi- 1 avian; and of Gren, styled Dane, occurring in a roll of barons and knights temp. ward I (Harl. M.S. 2116), all of whom would Tall urder the same surname Green; and, turning to some Scandinavian words. imagination may play its part in bringing material to the test of research—to affirm its validity, or leave it still such stuff as dreams are made of—for the root and crigin of these suraames in Scandinavia. These words are as follows: Green, Sca‘ revian Gothic, from grow; Gren; Scandi- navian, from grena; Norse Icelandic greina, to branch out. divide; Gren, of Viking origin, meaning the same; and, perhaps, in connection with these, and probably of Vik- ing origin, Grea, Grain, provincial English, a prong or branch; Grene, middle English, difference, debate. But in Gernon, Grenon, Greno, a sobriquet meaning whisker, mus- tache. applied to Eustace, a count of Flan- ders, and belonging to Robert in Normandy, who appears as witness to a charter as Guernon, and in “Domesday” as any of the fcrmer indifferently, a possible origin may be fourd for Green, which receives countenance from the fact of Gren appear- ing in some index to the records that has slipped the writer, and remarking that Grenon means whisker or mustache in the langue d'oil, while it is Gren that signifies it in the langue d’oc, it suggests there might have been found in Normandy in early times some Nerseman styled Gren, and some other perscn bearing the same name, but derived from the langue d'or. De Creon, again, is 2 name that might be corrupted into Green, for De Creon, as such is not now to be found; and in the “Roll cf Battle Abbey,, by the Duchess of Cleveland, the remark is m: that C and G-were used indifferently. Grendon, a place in Warwickshire, mighi lave some connection with Green, and Hamo de la Grene vel Grue (Ing. quod. Dam,” Ed. 1 g’ves rise to the thoughts, What is Grue? Can Grue be the same as Green for Hamo to be de la Green vel Grue? li Grue be a surname, why call its owner by a less distinguishing one—Green? Was Grue meant for Gr'ne? Going furthr afield in search of fore- fathers, Grun was a man’s name in Ger- many as early as the ninth century (Fos- termann’s “Namenbuch”), and Grun, Gruen. Grein, Gren, Gryn, was the name of a family living in the Rhineland having the rank of graff, whose ancestor was a burgo- master (Hellbach's “Adels Lexicon”), In cennection with Gryn, the last spelling, Greyne occurs in an early English will a: Lincoln, A.D. 1417, and in the De Banco Rolls, Edward II and VI, and Grayne also found as a surname. Gron is likewis a surname, bu* of Frisian origin (Barber's “British Surnames”). Again, there was a Heinrich ven Chreine (corruptible into Green), who. built the castle of Chreine, on the Danube, in the twelfth century. A British word for alder, guern, could have been given as-a man’s name, and corrupt=d into Green. The difficulty of finding and discriminat- ing the remote source of their name and blood confronts all the possessors in com- mon cf this surname Green, than which nene can be more puzzling. The different spelling, itis superfluous to say, affords no. clue whatever to the searcher if these re- | mote fields, inasmuch as it only relates to | how the-word Green itself was spelled at different times. The research for each per- son really is to connect the earliest relia- ble portion of avy particular Green pedi- gree that is-his with some one of whom it may be shown how he came by the sur- bame. Yet on account of the presumably. number of atte, de la, de and ort elvable that scribes have tak chis as a constant form ten some down thus who had their pam: and thus brought in fresh comp from some of its other sources, lications or wrong ascripii BREAKFAST AT HEADQUARTERS, A Hunery Reporter Wh self to Gen. ¢ the December Century Fron After the officers at headquarters tained what sleep they could get, the about daylight, feeling that in all probabi ity they would witness before night eithe fight or foot race—a fight If the armies countered each other, a foot race to secure g00d positions if the armies remained apart. General Meade had started south moving along the Germanna dawn, road. reral Grant intenced to remain in his present camp till Burnside arrived, In order to give him directions In person regarding s nts. The general sat down the breakfast table after nearly all staff officers r mornin While i 1g his cof- 4 young Newspaper zeporter, whose aj petite, combined with his spirit of enter- prise, had gained a substantial victory over his modesty, slipped up to the table, took a seat at the farther end, and remarked: “Well, I wouldn't mind ‘taking a cup of scmething warm mysclf, if there's no ob- jection.” Thereupon seizing a coffee pot, he poured out a full ration of that sooth ing army beverag self to some of th: ed to eat breakfast ¥ had evidently b of fasting , after helping him- ner dishes, pro : han appetite which n stimulated by long hours The general paid no more attention to this occurreace than he would have paid to the flight a bird acrcss bis path. He scareely looked at the intruder, did not ut- ter a word at the time, and made no mez:- tion of It afterward. [t was a fair sample of the imperturbability of his nature as to trivial matters taking place about him. —— won RECITATION A HORS! A Professed Student Tramp Knew His Greek Alphabet. From, the Philadelphia Press, A tramp appeared at the house of J. H. Barton, three miles south of Columbia, Mo., the other day, and asked for cold victuals in Greek. He stated that he was a gradu- ate of Princeton. Mr. Barton, himself a Greek scholar, was just about to start for Columbia, and his horse was hitched in front of the house. Jestingly he offered to give the tramp the horse if he could recite the Greek alphabet without a mis The tramp looked at the horse and then at Mr. Barton, and then inquired if bet included the saddle and bridle. Mr. Barton said that it did, and went into the house to get a Greek book. Returning he found the tramp had mount- ed the horse. As Mr. Barton stepped from the porch the tramp rattled off the alphabet without a mistake, and turning the horse's head disappeared In a cloud of dust. The animal on which the Princeton pilgrim rode away was one of the best saddle horses in Boone county, noted for its blooded stock