Evening Star Newspaper, December 23, 1934, Page 66

WHE SUNDAY BSTAR, WASHINGTON, AND SO, A-HINTIN f.:lJ'Jl.sl.".,'l.i.\'..‘..".fi.fi.!&&.’.s.!.‘.!JJ.’J&.’J‘JJJ&JJJJJJJ&J& a Real Problem. FREFEFRERRRERERNEERNE 8 HIS old world would be a brighter, happier place to live in if we all sat down right now and told each other exactly what we want for Chrisumas. Or better yet, if we all sat down and told each other exactly what we don’t want for Christmas. Or still better, if we all Just sat down. Maybe we moderns are blase, but the fact yemains that it is much easier to compile & negative list than a positive gift list, especially with Christmas only a couple of days away. As Stevenson—not the Stevenson you mean, dearie—remarked: “The world is so full of all manner of junk, I’m sure we had better stay home and get drunk.” That, of course, is a defeatist attitude, 1f everybody adopted that attitude we wouldn’t get very far. would we? But we aren’t getting very far anyhow, so perhaps it will do no harm to enumerate a few of the gifts that we could struggle along nicely without. First place on our list of undesirables goes to pipes. Much has been written in protest against gift cigars—that is, cigars selected with feminine eye for pretty bands and fancy boxes. But even the worst cigars are ephemeral. If we don’t smoke them they disintegrate of their own accord and eventually become a part of that rich mold of ticket stubs, burnt matches and fluff which forms the subsoil of the mascu- line pocket. ES, however, are permanent. A good pipe will last a lifetime, and a bad pipe will last even longer because it doesn’t get smoked so often. = There are some very bad pipes displayed in the shop windows at Christmas time—pipes that are radiant with varnish and gold trim- mings. Gleaming like jewels in their plush- lined cases, they are bait for the lady shopper. She does not know that their imitation amber mouthpieces taste of camphor or that the bowls perspire when warm and lose their luster in a resinous dew. She does not realize that a pipe is as much a part of the seasoned smoker’s face as any of his God-given features, and so she rushes in and buys him what is in effect a new But of all gift pipes, the one to be dreaded most is the sculptured meerschaum mon- strosity. This is an expensive article, and it is the favorite choice of grateful employes who, having observed the boss puffing his battered brier, decide to chip in and get him something peally nice. Last Christmas Mr. Smith-Smythe's office staff gave him a meerschaum pipe that looked ke a triumph of the confectioner’s art. The stem tapered down gracefully from the mouth- piece, and then flared up and out like a horn of plenty—or too much, as far as Mr. Smith- Smythe was concerned. Three dolphins inter- twined on the stem supported the base of the bowl with their tails. A bevy of bacchantes sapered around the bowl itself, while on the front, or prow, of the pipe stood the figure of a bearded gnome holding aloft a tiny tankard. Although he felt like a bull pup worrying a polf trophy, Mr. Smith-Smythe’s sense of duty eompelled him to smoke this pipe diligently at $he office, and for two weeks he transacted all Bis business while peeking over the left shoulder of the bearded gnome. Then he began to suffer sttacks of giddiness. At times he was almost #s giddy as the pipe itself, and his doctor finally ordered him to give it up entirely lest he be- oome permanently cross-eyed. That was a break for Mr. Smith-Smythe. “It's very pleas- ant to curl up with a pipe and a good book,” he admitted, “but not when the pipe curls up, t00.” ' A NOTHER gift that we can easily dispense with this year, or any other year, is the footstool. In the pre-furnace era, when win- dery drafis swept across the floor and up the ehimney, footstools had their purpose. They were useful as a refuge from mice, pug dogs and high water. Lads in Fauntleroy velveieens oould sit on them gracefully while grandma described the wonders of the Philadelphia Centennial. But in a parlor-bed-room-and-be-out-in-a=~ Wminute apartment there is no place for a foot- #tooi, especially one of those modernistic foot- shools abounding in corners that are just shin- deep. It is only something to be hurdled by day and fallen over by night. Its raison d’etre is that it will serve as an extra z2at when you bave a party. But as you may have noticed, it is invariably occupied by the tallest man at the party. He crouches on it all evening, peer- ing dismally over his knees and assuring his hostess in a slightly muffled voice that he i: There Are Many Christmas Gifts That We Could Get Along Without, but Hozw to Get Along Without Getting Them Is BY WEARE HOLBROOK. —Sketch by Stuart Hay Lk kol ko o g P S SRS S ol o o ok ok Gk o S o o F o o o Gk Sk ok SR o Ok E OF o o oF of oF o quite comfortable. And his attitude, which is that of a daredevil about to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel, puts a feeling of constraint on the entire assemblage. 80 let’s eliminate the footstool. It is, as Jimmy Durante would say, a mere block on the land- scape. This brings us, then, to the homemade candy, and particularly the fudge, which always appears at Christmas time. Modern young women who haven't set foot in the kitchen for months are invariably seized with an attack of domesticity as the Yuletide season approaches. Hovering daintily over the stove, they brew a witches’ broth of milk, sugar, chocolate, butter, sirup and nuts, which eventually solidifies into some- thing resembling macadam. They plunder the pantry, fill every saucepan with goo, crack nuts so vigorously that shell and meat are quite indistinguishable and squeal hysterically whenever anything boils over. But they have lots of fun. Not so the consumer of the finished product. When you sample it the first time, it is always too soft for human consumption, except by a naked human about to step into a shower bath. So you put it away to let it hardemn and the next time you try it you find that it is practically petrified. Knocking off a frag- Dl Dl T R 2t JC JE R U U JU U0 U0 JUJCTIE 0 JU R0 JE 0 JC U R L K R E L L] Gome Christmas BY ADA JACKSON Come Christmas I shall set a chair And leave the door undone. ‘dnd spread my table neat and fine For Mary and her Son. L P PR RFEREN NN ENER RN N NRNEF NN RN NN E R R N NN RN IR R P R R R They never have been my-ways yet, But once—"twas told to me— Upon a snowy Christmas night W hen winds blew winterly A woman such as I, who set Her table neat and poor For Mary's sake, toward the dawn Heard hands upon the door. And peering, watched a Woman come Against the fire, and stir The coals to warm a Child that lay Upon the breast of Her. ‘And then, ’twas told to me, She ate, And, having took Her fill, Went thro’ the door. The fire lay dead and still. But, s0 ’swas said, there stayed the scemt Of lilies on the air, And one small crimson-flowering spray Of sanfoin by the chair; That same bright sanfoin flower that sets The Summer fields alight, The same that bloomed about the Babe On that first Christmas Night. And as it closed Some folks said "twas a beggar come; Some spoke of dreams and smiled, ‘And showed the snow before the door Unprinted, undefiled. But still was left the broken bread, The sanfoin, red and green, The scent of flowers about the place W herein the Twain had been— But whether or not, come Christmas, 1 Shall leave my door undone, And spread my board, and set a chair For Mary and Her Son. ok o o o o ot o k ak a SR R A S SR R S aE o o S S SR S S ok o o o ok o “Eustace dropped the empty stocking and cursed softly in his childish treble.” ment with the ice pick, you gnaw at it like a trapped rat. Then suddenly with & deaf- ening crunch your jaws come together on something that is even harder than the fudge. You let out a muffied yelp of pain and start investigating. But no, it isn't a piece of nutshell; it is merly an old tooth that won’t be used any more. And after this experience you decide to put the fudge away again for good—your own good. » PO ol o kol o ol o o o o o ko o o o o kK vy A CHRISTMAS gift of homemade fudge is always opened with a great deal of oh-ing and ah-ing, and the®recipients assert stoutly that there is nothing like it. They know better, of course. There is something exactly like it left over from last year and the year before that. Of all gifts, holiday fudge is the most enduring. Tlaflc are only a few of the incumbrances whose Ahenfi will make Christmas a jollier day for us. No pipes, no footstools, no home« made candy. Noel, Noel! There are others, and all of them are articles which have a spurious utility. They are, theoretically, ob- jects made to be used or consumed, and when we decline to use or consume them their mere presence is a gadfly to our quivering conscience. The ideal gift in this age of chromium steel realities is something with no practical possibilities whatever. But we never get it. At Christmas time we always feel like little Eustace, who pulled outy of his stocking a copy of Bunyan's “Pilgrim’'s Progress,” a tin savings bank, a packet of garden seed, a ruler, a pair of suspenders, a first-aid kit and a round, hard lump in the toe which turned out to be—surprise! surprise—a miniature repro- duction of the terrestrial globe. Little Eustace dropped the empty stocking and cursed softly in his childish treble. “Why, what's the matter, Eustace?” his Uncle Ned inquired. “Don’'t you believe in Santa Claus?” “Oh, sure!” the lad replied bitterly. he doesn't believe in me—the big bum!” “But Walnut Crop in Dry Areas NE neglected tree which offers possibilities not only of a sure financial return, but an excellent solution of drought conditions is * the black walnut. This type of tree roots deeper than most and because of its habit of sending its roots far down into the lower soil can meintain its lfe and produce its crops when all the surface crops around it fail. Heavy ylelds of walnuts are reported this Fall from practically the whole commercial range of the tree, from Pennsylvania to Arkan- sas. One dealer in walnuts in western Arkan- sas buys an avesage of 600,000 pounds of nuts each season. Two years ago he purchased 1,000,000 pounds, and had a heavy carryover, which he disposed of easily last year, when the walnut crop was short. The nuts keep very well stored in cellars. Commercial cracking plarits have been estab- lished in many parts of the country. The farmer, however, has certain advantages over the large operator. By careful cracking and removing of the kernels on the farm, an aver- age of 14 pounds of kernels may be obtained from 100 pounds of nuts. The industrial plants using machinery net about 10 pounds. The hulls make excellent fuel. Pood and confection concerns consider black walnut kernels a staple product, and some place single orders for as much as 10,000 pounds. Farmers and State forestry departments planted millions of walnuts and large numbers of nursery raised seedlings last year, especially in the Ohio Valley States. A dual-purpose tree, the black walnut, is a favorite for farm plant- ing over a wide range. Once plentiful in the hardwood forests, walnut was used prodigally for fencing, fuel and building. Later demands for gun and furniture stock further depleted the supply. Fortunately the walnut tree is a fairly rapid grower, and excellent for farm forestry purposes, Foresters are urging more extensive plantings of both nuts and seedlings where re- maining old trees indicate the walnut will thrive. « ° : ’