Ontario Community Newspapers

Oshawa Daily Times, 12 Dec 1928, p. 17

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shana Daily Times [=] \ A Growing Newspaper in LI Lhe Oshawa Daily Daily Reformer SECOND SECTION --PAGES 17.32 17.32 OSHAWA, ONTARIO, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12, 1928 10 Cents a Week; 2 Cents a Copy. Merry Christmas Passes Through The isplaying The Christmas Spirit The Efficient Giver By Christine MacGillivray Campbell The Road to A E Stores More Blessed to Yh. BS % ive Away off in the distance, the |been dulled by the long grinding lights of the town "twinkled like falling stars 'twixt Heaven and earth, But it was dark and quiet here on the farm, not the stillness of peace but rather of a sullen mon- ster gathering strength for a leap. A dreary murmur stole through the pine boughs on high, looming against the dark, lowering sky. There would be a storm before morning, : It was Christmas Eve and as yet no snow had fallen to clothe the bare, frozen earth. Ruth leaned, with folded arms, on the gate in front of the old far mhouse, a heavy black shawl thrown over her head and should- ers. Her lips: were set in a thin, hard line that spoke of the bitter determination which filled her sole this night. No Christmas cheer to look for- .ward to here, no gayly decorated rooms cheery with light, No pre- parations of good cheer for the morrow. Nothing, nobody--an old, old invalid father wrapped up in his own misery, her only relative in the world. She could not remem- ber her mother, Life was hard and tasteless, al- ways the same. A monotonous round of menial talks on this pov- erty-stricken backwoods farm. The only life she had known for thirty years, Now youth was gone, had been culled out long before its time for departure, She wondered if Rob would run over tp see her to-night. The thought did not cause any up- lift of spirit. She had waited too long for him --ten years during which her heart had slowly sick- ened with hope deferred. There was no sparkle in her sad brown eyes. No glint to the soft brown hair so carelessly brushed back from her forehead. There had been both when she had promised to'wait' for Rob Bowen. There was always something to wait for. New mrachines for farm work, new barn to replace the old. one Gfterg disastrous fire, and the mortgage was not paid off yet. Was there ever a farm without a mortgage? she wondered. - Rob had said when the place was clear then they would marry. This night she was recalling all the long, slow years of heartacle and disup- pointments, all the full happy years of wifehood she had missed. The farm ten miles yonder had taken heavy toll of her young life. Besides there was her father to be cared for, more exacting and as helpless as a child. It had been uw. most unbearably hard at first and she had not borne things well. She was not of a patient disposition but time had taken the edge off her resentment and now she mo longer cared so intensely. All her young enthusiam and eager anticipation of what life held in store, had march of years. She saw Rob, not as the upright] honest well-meaning young fellow she had fallen in love with years ago, but as hard mercenary, a dull plodder with his nose to the grind- stone, intent only upon one 'thing. Then, too, he was mean, Perhaps after all she was no more unhappy now than had she married him ten years ago. "Mated to a clown," Christmas! Not even that day had power to stir him to a generous mood. just one day" had been his brie' comment on Christmas. Rob wn» never give until it hurt, $e Scrooge" had never--out t§, .. row mes sof his soul in anv _iain- er terms than had Rob .owen. Money was all he seemed to care for, his farm was a tyrant that drove him toiling through life with no respite, Year after year at Christmas. time she had hoped in vain that he might present her with some little gift to show his thought of her, Somehow she had set her heart on receiving something from him, she hardly knew why. Not for the value of itself, certainly, Her poor, little home-made gifts of mufflers, gloves, tobacco pouch- es had been accepted with indiffer- ent thanks and always he had said. "You shonldn't bother. I don't be- lieve in this Christmas present business." Well, to-night her mind was made up. She was tired of her thankless task. She would go away, leave the old life, barren of joy, behind her. Already her ancient suitcase was packed with her humble be- longings. She would leave word at the neighboring farm that she was going on an errand. Someone would stay with her old father until Her return--and she would never come back. A note left for Rob would ex- plain it to him. Ruth Emmons had stood there in the cold of the starless night for almost an hour, thinking, her thought far awhy within herself, unheeding of her surroundings. Now she came to herself with a start, realizing that her feet were numb. With a long drawn, weary sigh. she retraced her steps up the stone walk to the old house, still and dark save for one feeble gleam in the kitchen, Her father had been in bed for hours. There remained nothing but to don her hat ang coat, new five years ago, and make her way to the little station house across the frozen fields. Soon she was on her way. She felt no regret at leaving, no emotion of any kind save a fixed determination to go. ° It could not have been more than half an hour after the shrill whistle had sounded lonesomely across the country, than Rob Bowen opened the same gate on which a woman had been leaning so short a time (Continued on page 31) "Too much fuss made over. - The Christmas Tree BY MOLLY BEVAN Songs to sing of all earth's trees-- And many have been sung-- Of apple trees in maytime bloom, Of winds the pines among; Of flame-lit autumn maples, And poplars whispering high}; Of lissom silver birches And elms that brush the sky. But, greatly though I love them all, Another tree I sing Whose fruit is bulky packages Tied up with silver string; Whose branches bloom with coloured balls And tinsel gleaming bright, And glow at every prickly tip With golden capdle-light. They have no nesting birds to shield" Their starless ceiling sky Can boast no wind-tossed cloudlets, No brother tree stands nigh. Yet Christmas trees are blessed above All other trees that grow, They lose the winds, but mid their boughs Child-laughter breezes blow. --THE BLUE BELL, Good Old Christmas Time! Marion came to see me in Novem- ber. She sat down with such an air of snug satisfaction I might have known she had achieved some gigan- tic undertaking. "I have my Christmas shopping done," she announced. "Moreover, 1 have the wrapping, sealing and every- thing off my hands, and most of the postage paid, without any extra ex- pense,' Any of us might have looked snug over such an undertaking so soon ac- com lished and all folded away. ell me how you did it," I be- sought in tones of the deepest re- spect. I knew now that Marion must be a super-woman, A BOOK YEAR. "Why," began Marion, just as Lindbergh might tell of sailing the Atlantic skies, "I found a book cata- logue and decided to make this a book year for my giving. This cata- logue is the output of a conscientious firm that does not raise its prices at Christmas just because it knows we must buy at any cost. It is cons- cientious, too, in what it sells, so that I wouldn't need to sample all its wares in book form for fear of poisoning my young friends. In the case of friends that we remember by families--gifts for everyone in the family you know--I just sent in an order in the name of the head of the house or of the oldest child-- and included a few cents worth of fussings in the order seals cards tis- sue and ribbon--then sent a note di- rect explaining what I had done." "But didn't it seem like ante-dat- ing Christmas a good deal?" I ob- jected, by way of venting my envy. "Not at all, It saves the company the last rush, and you know busi- ness firms after all are composed of people, and people are all alike, sub- ject to headaches and corns and other human ills of the flesh, and should be. cons; rod. The firm pays the postage, of course, and saved me the trouble of paying it all over again. Stingy? Not a hie of it when I can family, Of course, I ordered books for ourselves, too, of the price and binding of the others for the uncles® families, and sent my own order first, so that I actually saw what I was ordering and satisfied myself they were not shabbier that the cata- logue's alluring description represent- ed them to be. In the case of one book, a Christmas story any human being should like, I took advantage of a lower rate in ordering several. I sent them off on the spot, labeled 'Do not open till Christmas' Even the mail men will thank me for that, if my friends do not." "So," concluded Marion, triumph antly, "I have all my Christmas WOr= ry and rush over without a single day's squeezing through crowds in stores and without any panic and scramble. Yes, I've made my Christ mas cake, too, and so I'm all ready to enjoy the Christmas month sanely and without mussing up the house." Perfectly devastating to one's own complacence, one of those before~ hand efficiency experts, I concluded abashedly, when Marion went away, Yet how likely and altogethér lov- able a present is a real book. For 50 cents one may buy a book anybody would treasure (unless it be the lady with the pure ivory head, who said: she had one), but you make poor progress, say; in a jewelry store, do- ing Christmas shopping with a 50- cent piece. Books, certainly. I have never fail- ed to do a song and dance of delight when anybod rd sent me a book for Christmas, ne year there was a thin white volume, exquisitely wrap- ped, and that book was sent by its author. I was flattered into a new hat size. Every year I like to read aloud the story of "The Song of Kor than," by Frances Beatrice Taylor, for the children's pleasure and my own on Christmas night. I went on my busy way till three 'days before Christmas, and as the . tide strengthened and I knew. I couldn't get the half of the planned presents made or the planned stunts spend what I saved "But what about Hg children in the families? Do they all get books, too?" 1THE CHILDREN. . Fr "Yes, Christmas stories and other gay books suited to their age, but there were pictures, too, reasonable enough and artistic enough to suit even me! With those and some tiny favors that are really toys, the chil- dren will not feel put out." "And the family wraps its own presents," this with lifted eyebrows. "Where there is an eldest child I sent a flattering note to that one, giving them the important commis- sion of wrapping, sealing and hiding the box till Christmas." "Then, what about the people who are not set in families?" I asked, with the insistence of the plaintiff's lawyer. 3 "Why, of course, I ordered their books along with those for my own plored. paint and drops of green. 'and gay bed slippers; hedy-d--recklessly stole a shopping hour and called on Marion, Marion peeped at me through the crack before she actually opened the 'door, "Don't look at my apron," she im- I looked at the apron with the keenest interest. It was an in- teresting apron. It had dabs of red It had spots of paste and stains of ink. It was streaked with vermilion and stippled with emerald, and Marion - is particular about her aprons, THE FINAL RESULT. Within one did not need excep« tional powers of observation to une derstand that Marion was very busy. She had been making quilted pillows she had been painting tin boxes for candy, and wooden ones for handkerchiefs; had been = making specially personal Christmas cards, with water colors (Continued on page 30) . Season's Greetings OES EPL PCC ORCS RRR ORCS THEE Ree RefUIRRREL RNR SHRIKE SHEEP POI ORPI PRR ES No Christmas is complete without a Christmas dinner; if your own wants are supplied you can make some less fortunate family happy by having any of these items delivered the day before Christmas... F lour : FIVE ROSES QUAKER FIVE CROWNS i 2 2a a ry E> [8 8 i [tt POTATOES SUGAR Phone 203. 6 2508 254 254 2 2 2 2 2 2h Eh 2 Cereals ROLLED OATS CORN MEAL WHEATLETS CORN FLAKES CHEE CISRRRLS ROLLS REIL DLS Bd i Lee RENO NTOWRS HOGG & LYTLE LIMITED |

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