The Pearl Story Book Part 24

"Dear Mother, we have been in the tower to thank the great bell for bringing the New Year," cried Hans.

"Did the Christ-child send it, Mother?" asked little Carl.

The mother stooped and put her arms about them and kissed them both.

As she led them into the room she said, "Yes, my little ones, the Christ-child sends the New Year."

THE NEW YEAR

Snow-wrapped and holly-decked it comes, To richest and to poorest homes.

Twelve jeweled months all set with days Of priceless opportunities.

A silver moon, a golden sun, With diamond stars when day is done; Over all a sapphire sky Where pearly clouds go floating by.

(_Selected._)

THE CHILD AND THE YEAR

Said the child to the youthful year: "What hast thou in store for me, O giver of beautiful gifts! what cheer, What joy dost thou bring with thee?"

"My seasons four shall bring Their treasures: the winter's snows, The autumn's store, and the flowers of spring, And the summer's perfect rose.

"All these and more shall be thine, Dear child--but the last and best Thyself must earn by a strife divine, If thou wouldst be truly blest."

Celia Thaxter.

A MASQUE OF THE DAYS

Charles Lamb

The Old Year being dead, and the New Year coming of age, which he does, by calendar law as soon as the breath is out of the old gentleman's body, nothing would serve the young spark, but he must give a dinner upon the occasion, to which all the Days in the year were invited. The Festivals, whom he deputed as his stewards, were mightily taken with the notion. They had been engaged time out of mind, they said, in providing mirth and good cheer for mortals below, and it was time they should have a taste of their own bounty.

It was stiffly debated among them whether the Fasts should be admitted. Some said the appearance of such lean, starved guests, with their mortified faces, would pervert the ends of the meeting. But the objection was overruled by Christmas Day, who had a design upon Ash Wednesday (as you shall hear), and a mighty desire to see how the old Domine would behave himself in his cups. Only the Vigils were requested to come with their lanterns to light the gentlefolk home at night.

All the Days came. Covers were provided for three hundred and sixty-five guests at the princ.i.p.al table; with an occasional knife and fork at the sideboard for the Twenty-ninth of February.

Cards of invitation had been issued. The carriers were the Hours; twelve little, merry, whirligig foot-pages that went all round and found out the person invited, with the exception of Easter Day, Shrove Tuesday, and a few such movables, who had lately shifted their quarters.

Well, they all met at last, foul Days, fine Days, all sorts of Days, and a rare din they made of it. There was nothing but "Hail, fellow Day! well met!" only Lady Day seemed a little scornful. Yet some said Twelfth Day cut her out, for she came all royal and glittering and Epiphanous. The rest came in green, some in white, but old Lent and his family were not yet out of mourning. Rainy Days came in dripping, and Sunshiny Days laughing. Wedding Day was there in marriage finery.

Pay Day came late, and Doomsday sent word he might be expected.

April Fool took upon himself to marshal the guests, and May Day, with that sweetness peculiar to her, proposed the health of the host. This being done, the lordly New Year, from the upper end of the table, returned thanks. Ash Wednesday, being now called upon for a song, struck up a carol, which Christmas Day had taught him. Shrovetide, Lord Mayor's Day, and April Fool next joined in a glee, in which all the Days, chiming in, made a merry burden.

All this while Valentine's Day kept courting pretty May, who sat next him, slipping amorous billet-doux under the table till the Dog Days began to be jealous and to bark and rage exceedingly.

At last the Days called for their cloaks and great-coats, and took their leave. Shortest Day went off in a deep black fog that wrapped the little gentleman all round. Two Vigils--so watchmen are called in Heaven--saw Christmas Day safe home; they had been used to the business before. Another Vigil--a stout, st.u.r.dy patrol, called the Eve of St. Christopher--seeing Ash Wednesday in a condition little better than he should be, e'en whipt him over his shoulders, pick-a-pack fashion, and he went floating home, singing:

"On the bat's back do I fly,"

and a number of old s.n.a.t.c.hes besides. Longest Day set off westward in beautiful crimson and gold; the rest, some in one fashion, some in another; but Valentine and pretty May took their departure together in one of the prettiest silvery twilights a Lover's Day could wish to set in.

RING OUT, WILD BELLS

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Alfred Tennyson.

MIDWINTER

THE BELLS

Hear the sledges with the bells-- Silver bells!

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!

How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night!

While the stars, that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells-- Bells, bells, bells-- From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Edgar Allen Poe.

A JANUARY THAW

Dallas Lore Sharp