IIICHRISTMAS CUSTOMS ANDBELIEFS

SOME sayes, that ever 'gainst that Season comesWherein our Saviours Birth is celebrated,The Bird of Dawning singeth all night long:And then (they say) no Spirit can walke abroad,The nights are wholesome, then no Planets strike,No Faiery talkes, nor Witch hath power to Charme:So hallowed, and so gracious is the time.William Shakespeare

SOME sayes, that ever 'gainst that Season comes

Wherein our Saviours Birth is celebrated,

The Bird of Dawning singeth all night long:

And then (they say) no Spirit can walke abroad,

The nights are wholesome, then no Planets strike,

No Faiery talkes, nor Witch hath power to Charme:

So hallowed, and so gracious is the time.

William Shakespeare

The Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ

WHEN the world had endured five thousand and nine hundred years, after Eusebius the holy saint, Octavian the Emperor commanded that all the world should be described, so that he might know how many cities, how many towns, and how many persons he had in all the universal world. Then was so great peace in the earth that all the world was obedient to him. And therefore our Lord would be born in that time, that it should be known that he brought peace from heaven. And this Emperor commanded that every man should go into the towns, cities or villages from whence they were of, and should bring with him a penny in acknowledgment that he was subject to the Empire of Rome. And by so many pence as should be found received, should be known the number of the persons. Joseph, which was then of the lineage of David, and dwelleth in Nazareth, went into the city of Bethlehem, and led with him the Virgin Mary his wife. And when they were come thither, because the hostelries were all taken up, they were constrained to be without in a common place where all people went. And there was a stable for an ass that he brought with him, and for an ox. In that night our Blessed Lady and Mother of God was delivered of our Blessed Saviour upon the hay that lay in the rack. At which nativity our Lord shewed many marvels. For because that the world was in so great peace, the Romans had done made a temple which was named the Temple of Peace, in which they counselled with Apollo to know how long it should stand and endure. Apollo answeredto them, that it should stand as long till a maid had brought forth and borne a child. And therefore they did do write on the portal of the Temple: Lo! this is the temple of peace that ever shall endure. For they supposed well that a maid might never bear ne bring forth a child. This temple that same time that our Lady was delivered and our Lord born, overthrew and fell all down. Of which christian men afterward made in the same place a church of our Lady which is called Sancta Maria Rotunda, that is to say, the Church of Saint Mary the Round. Also the same night, as recordeth Innocent the third, which was Pope, there sprang and sourded in Rome a well or a fountain, and ran largely all that night and all that day unto the river of Rome called Tiber. Also after that, recordeth S. John Chrysostom, the three kings were in this night in their orisons and prayers upon a mountain, when a star appeared by them which had the form of a right fair child, which had a cross in his forehead, which said to these three kings that they should go to Jerusalem, and there they should find the son of the Virgin, God and Man, which then was born. Also there appeared in the orient three suns, which little and little assembled together, and were all on one. As it is signified to us that these three things are the Godhead, the soul, and the body, which been in three natures assembled in one person. Also Octavian the Emperor, like as Innocent recordeth, that he was much desired of his council and of his people, that he should do men worship him as God. For never had there been before him so great a master and lord of the world as he was. Then the Emperor sent for a prophetess named Sibyl, for to demand of her if there were any so great and like him in the earth, or if any should come after him.Thus at the hour of mid-day she beheld the heaven, and saw a circle of gold about the sun, and in the middle of the circle a maid holding a child in her arms. Then she called the Emperor and shewed it him. When Octavian saw that he marvelled over much, whereof Sibyl said to him: Hic puer major te est, ipsum adora. This child is greater lord than thou art, worship him. Then when the Emperor understood that this child was greater lord than he was, he would not be worshipped as God, but worshipped this child that should be born. Wherefore the christian men made a church of the same chamber of the Emperor, and named it Ara cÅ“li. After this it happed on a night as a great master which is of great authority in Scripture, which is named Bartholemew, recordeth that the Rod of Engadi which is by Jerusalem, which beareth balm, flowered this night and bare fruit, and gave liquor of balm. After this came the angel and appeared to the shepherds that kept their sheep, and said to them: I announce and shew to you a great joy, for the Saviour of the world is in this night born, in the city of Bethlehem, there may ye find him wrapt in clouts. And anon, as the angel had said this, a great multitude of angels appeared with him, and began to sing: Honour, glory and health be to God on high, and in the earth peace to men of goodwill. Then said the shepherds, let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing. And when they came they found like as the angel had said. In this time Octavian made to cut and enlarge the ways and quitted the Romans of all the debts that they owed to him. This feast of Nativity of our Lord is one of the greatest feasts of all the year, and for to tell all the miracles that our Lord hath shewed, it should contain a whole book; but at this time I shall leave and pass oversave one thing that I have heard once preached of a worshipful doctor, that what person being in clean life desire on this day a boon of God, as far as it is rightful and good for him, our Lord at the reverence of this blessed high feast of his Nativity will grant it to him.

FromThe Golden Legend

Folk-Lore of Christmas Tide

SCOTTISH folk-lore has it that Christ was born "at the hour of midnight on Christmas Eve," and that the miracle of turning water into wine was performed by Him at the same hour. There is a belief current in some parts of Germany that "between eleven and twelve the night before Christmas water turns to wine"; in other districts, as at Bielefeld, it is on Christmas night that this change is thought to take place.

This hour is also auspicious for many actions, and in some sections of Germany it was thought that if one would go to the cross-roads between eleven and twelve on Christmas Day, and listen, he "would hear what most concerns him in the coming year." Another belief is that "if one walks into the winter-corn on Holy Christmas Eve, he will hear all that will happen in the village that year."

Christmas Eve or Christmas is the time when the oracles of the folk are in the best working-order, especially the many processes by which maidens are wont to discover the colour of their lover's hair, the beauty of his face and form, his trade and occupation, whether they shall marry or not, and the like.

The same season is most auspicious for certain ceremonies and practices (transferred to it from the heathenantiquity) of the peasantry of Europe in relation to agriculture and allied industries. Among those noted by Grimm are the following:â€”

On Christmas Eve thrash the garden with a flail, with only your shirt on, and the grass will grow well next year.

Tie wet strawbands around the orchard trees on Christmas Eve and it will make them fruitful.

On Christmas Eve put a stone on every tree, and they will bear the more.

Beat the trees on Christmas night, and they will bear more fruit.

In Herefordshire, Devonshire, and Cornwall, in England, the farmers and peasantry "salute the apple-trees on Christmas Eve," and in Sussex they used to "worsle,"i.e."wassail," the apple-trees and chant verses to them in somewhat of the primitive fashion.

Some other curious items of Christmas folk-lore are the following, current chiefly in Germany.

If after a Christmas dinner you shake out the tablecloth over the bare ground under the open sky, crumbwort will grow on the spot.

If on Christmas Day, or Christmas Eve, you hang a wash-clout on a hedge, and then groom the horses with it, they will grow fat.

As often as the cock crows on Christmas Eve, the quarter of corn will be as dear.

If a dog howls the night before Christmas, it will go mad within the year.

If the light is let go out on Christmas Eve, some one in the house will die.

When lights are brought in on Christmas Eve, if any one'sshadow has no head, he will die within a year; if half a head, in the second half-year.

If a hoop comes off a cask on Christmas Eve, some one in the house will die that year.

If on Christmas Eve you make a little heap of salt on the table, and it melts over night, you will die the next year; if, in the morning, it remain undiminished, you will live.

If you wear something sewed with thread spun on Christmas Eve, no vermin will stick to you.

If a shirt be spun, woven, and sewed by a pure, chaste maiden on Christmas Day, it will be proof against lead or steel.

If you are born at sermon-time on Christmas morning, you can see spirits.

If you burn elder on Christmas Eve, you will have revealed to you all the witches and sorcerers of the neighbourhood.

If you steal hay the night before Christmas, and give the cattle some, they thrive, and you are not caught in any future thefts.

If you steal anything at Christmas without being caught, you can steal safely for a year.

If you eat no beans on Christmas Eve, you will become an ass.

If you eat a raw egg, fasting, on Christmas morning, you can carry heavy weights.

The crumbs saved up on three Christmas Eves are good to give as physic to one who is disappointed.

It is unlucky to carry anything forth from the house on Christmas morning until something has been brought in.

It is unlucky to give a neighbour a live coal to kindle a fire with on Christmas morning.

If the fire burns brightly on Christmas morning, it betokens prosperity during the year; if it smoulders, adversity.

These, and many other practices, ceremonies, beliefs, and superstitions, which may be read in Grimm, Gregor, Henderson, De Gubernatis, Ortwein, Tilte, and others who have written of Christmas, show the importance attached in the folk-mind to the time of the birth of Christ, and how around it as a centre have fixed themselves hundreds of the rites and solemnities of passing heathendom, with its recognition of the kinship of all nature, out of which grew astrology, magic, and other pseudo-sciences.

Collected byA. F. Chamberlain

CHRISTMAS succeeds the Saturnalia, the same time, the same number of Holy-days; then the Master waited upon the Servant like the Lord of Misrule.

Our Meats and our Sports, much of them, have Relation to Church-works. The Coffin of our Christmas-Pies, in shape long, is in Imitation of the Cratch; our choosing Kings and Queens on Twelfth-Night, hath reference to the three Kings. So likewise our eating of Fritters, whipping of Tops, roasting of Herrings, Jack of Lents, etc., they were all in imitation of Church-works, Emblems of Martyrdom.

The Table-Talk of John Selden

Hunting the Wren

THE custom, which is called "hunting the wren," is generally practised by the peasantry of the south of Ireland on St. Stephen's Day. It bears a close resemblance to the Manx proceedings described by Waldron,â€”astaking place however on a different day. "On the 24th of December," says that writer, in his account of the Isle of Man, "towards evening the servants in general have a holiday; they go not to bed all night, but ramble about till the bells ring in all the churches, which is at twelve o'clock. Prayers being over, they go to hunt the wren; and after having found one of these poor birds, they kill her and lay her on a bier with the utmost solemnity, bringing her to the parish church and burying her with a whimsical kind of solemnity, singing dirges over her in the Manx language, which they call her knell; after which Christmas begins."

The Wren-boys in Ireland, who are also called Droleens, go from house to house for the purpose of levying contributions, carrying one or more of these birds in the midst of a bush of holly, gaily decorated with colored ribbons; which birds they have, like the Manx mummers, employed their morning in killing. The following is their song; of which they deliver themselves in most monotonous music:â€”

"The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,St. Stephen's-day was caught in the furze,Although he is little, his family's great.I pray you, good landlady, give us a treat."My box would speak, if it had but a tongue,And two or three shillings would do it no wrong;Sing holly, sing ivyâ€”sing ivy, sing holly,A drop just to drink, it would drown melancholy."And if you draw it of the best,I hope, in heaven your soul will rest;But if you draw it of the small,It won't agree with these Wren-boys at all."

"The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,St. Stephen's-day was caught in the furze,Although he is little, his family's great.I pray you, good landlady, give us a treat.

"The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,

St. Stephen's-day was caught in the furze,

Although he is little, his family's great.

I pray you, good landlady, give us a treat.

"My box would speak, if it had but a tongue,And two or three shillings would do it no wrong;Sing holly, sing ivyâ€”sing ivy, sing holly,A drop just to drink, it would drown melancholy.

"My box would speak, if it had but a tongue,

And two or three shillings would do it no wrong;

Sing holly, sing ivyâ€”sing ivy, sing holly,

A drop just to drink, it would drown melancholy.

"And if you draw it of the best,I hope, in heaven your soul will rest;But if you draw it of the small,It won't agree with these Wren-boys at all."

"And if you draw it of the best,

I hope, in heaven your soul will rest;

But if you draw it of the small,

It won't agree with these Wren-boys at all."

If an immediate acknowledgment, either in money or drink, is not made in return for the civility of their visit, some such nonsensical verses as the following are added:â€”

"Last Christmas-day, I turned the spit,I burned my fingers (I feel it yet),A cock sparrow flew over the table,The dish began to fight with the ladle."The spit got up like a naked man,And swore he'd fight with the dripping pan;The pan got up and cocked his tail,And swore he'd send them all to jail."

"Last Christmas-day, I turned the spit,I burned my fingers (I feel it yet),A cock sparrow flew over the table,The dish began to fight with the ladle.

"Last Christmas-day, I turned the spit,

I burned my fingers (I feel it yet),

A cock sparrow flew over the table,

The dish began to fight with the ladle.

"The spit got up like a naked man,And swore he'd fight with the dripping pan;The pan got up and cocked his tail,And swore he'd send them all to jail."

"The spit got up like a naked man,

And swore he'd fight with the dripping pan;

The pan got up and cocked his tail,

And swore he'd send them all to jail."

The story told to account for the title of "king of all birds," here given to the wren, is a curious sample of Irish ingenuity, and is thus stated in the clever "Tales of the Munster Festivals," by an Irish servant in answer to his master's inquiry:â€”

"Saint Stephen! why, what the mischief, I ask you again, have I to do with Saint Stephen?"

"Nothen, sure, sir, only this being his day, when all the boys o' the place go about that way with the wran, the king of all birds, sir, as they say (bekays wanst when all the birds wanted to choose a king, and they said they'd have the bird that would fly highest, the aigle flew higher than any of 'em, till at last when he couldn't fly an inch higher, a little rogue of a wran that was a-hide under his wing took a fly above him a piece, and was crowned king, of the aigle an' all, sir), tied in the middle o' the holly that way you see, sir, by the leg, that is. An old custom, sir."

Vainly have we endeavored to arrive at the probable origin of hunting and killing these little birds upon this day. The tradition commonly related is by no means satisfactory. It is said that a Danish army would havebeen surprised and destroyed by some Irish troops, had not a wren given the alarm by pecking at some crumbs upon a drum-head,â€”the remains of the sleeping drummer's supper; which roused him, when he instantly beat to arms. And that from this circumstance the wren became an object of hatred to the Irish.

T. K. Hervey

The Presepio

AFTER Christmas Day, during the remainder of December, there is a Presepio, or representation of the manger in which our Savior was laid, to be seen in many of the churches at Rome. That of the Ara CÅ“li is best worth seeing; which church occupies the site of the temple of Jupiter, and is adorned with some of its beautiful pillars.

On entering we found daylight completely excluded from the church; and until we advanced we did not perceive the artificial light, which was so managed as to stream in fluctuating rays from intervening silvery clouds, and shed a radiance over the lovely babe and bending mother, who in a most graceful attitude lightly holds up the drapery which half conceals her sleeping infant from the bystanders. He lies in richly embroidered swaddling clothes, and his person as well as that of His virgin mother, is ornamented with diamonds and other precious stones; for which purpose we are informed the princesses and ladies of high rank lend their jewels. Groups of cattle grazing, peasantry engaged in different occupations, and other objects enliven the picturesque scenery; every living creature in the group, with eyes directed towards the Presepio, falls prostrate in adoration.

FromHone'sYear Book

Hodening in Kent

WHEN I was a lad, about forty-five years since, it was always the custom on Christmas Eve, with the male farm-servants from every farm in our parish, to go round in the evening from house to house with the hodening horse, which consisted of the imitation of a horse's head made of wood, life size, fixed on a stick about the length of a broom handle. The lower jaw of the head was made to open with hinges; a hole was made through the roof of the mouth, then another through the forehead coming out by the throat; pulled through this was passed a cord attached at the lower jaw, which, when pulled by the cord at the throat, caused it to close and open; on the lower jaw large headed hobnails were driven in to form the teeth. The strongest of the lads was selected for the horse; he stooped and made as long a back as he could, supporting himself by the stick carrying the head; then he was covered with a horse-cloth, and one of his companions mounted his back. The horse had a bridle and reins. Then commenced the kicking, rearing, jumping, etc., and the banging together of the teeth.

There was no singing by the accompanying paraders. They simply by ringing or knocking at the houses on their way summoned the inmates to the doors and begged a gratuity. I have seen some of the wooden heads carved out quite hollow in the throat part, and two holes bored through the forehead to form the eyes. The lad who played the horse would hold a lighted candle in the hollow, and you can imagine how horrible it was to any one who opened the door to see such a thing close to his eyes.

A contributor to theChurch Times, Jan. 23, 1891

Origin of the Christmas Tree

A SCANDINAVIAN myth of great antiquity speaks of a "service tree" sprung from the blood-drenched soil where two lovers had been killed by violence. At certain nights in the Christmas season mysterious lights were seen flaming in its branches, that no wind could extinguish.

One tale describes Martin Luther as attempting to explain to his wife and children the beauty of a snow-covered forest under the glittering star besprinkled sky. Suddenly an idea suggested itself. He went into the garden, cut off a little fir tree, dragged it into the nursery, put some candles on its branches and lighted them.

"It has been explained," says another authority, "as being derived from the ancient Egyptian practice of decking houses at the time of the winter solstice with branches of the date palmâ€”the symbol of life triumphant over death, and therefore of perennial life in the renewal of each bounteous year." The Egyptians regarded the date palm as the emblem not only of immortality, but also of the starlit firmament.

Some of its traditions may have been strongly influenced by the fact that about this time the Jews celebrated their Feast of Chanuckah or Lights, known also as the Feast of Dedication, of which lighted candles are a feature. In Germany, the name for Christmas Eve is Weihnacht, the Night of Dedication, while in Greece at about this season the celebration is called the Feast of Lights.

As a regular institution, however, it can be traced back only to the sixteenth century. During the Middle Ages it suddenly appears in Strassburg; it maintained itself along the Rhine for two hundred years, when suddenlyat the beginning of the nineteenth century the fashion spread all over Germany, and by fifty years later had conquered Christendom.

W. S. WalshinCuriosities of Popular Customs(condensed)

Origin of the Christmas Card

THE Christmas Card is the legitimate descendant of the "school pieces" or "Christmas pieces" which were popular from the beginning to the middle of the nineteenth century. These were sheets of writing-paper sometimes surrounded with those hideous and elaborate pen flourishes forming birds, scrolls, etc., so unnaturally dear to the hearts of writing masters, and sometimes headed with copper-plate engravings, plain or colored. These were used by school boys at the approach of holidays for carefully written letters exploiting the progress they had made in composition and chirography. Charity boys were large purchasers of these pieces, says one writer, and at Christmas time used to take them round their parish to show and at the same time solicit a trifle.

The Christmas Card proper had its tentative origin in 1846. Mr. Joseph Cundall, a London artist, claims to have issued the first in that year. It was printed in lithography, colored by hand, and was of the usual size of a lady's card.

Not until 1862, however, did the custom obtain any foothold. Then experiments were made with cards of the size of an ordinarycarte de visite, inscribed simply "A Merry Christmas" and "A Happy New Year." After that came to be added robins and holly branches, embossedfigures and landscapes. "I have the original designs before me now," wrote "Luke Limner" (John Leighton) to the LondonPublishers' Circular, Dec. 31, 1883: "they were produced by Goodall & Son. Seeing a growing want and the great sale obtained abroad, this house produced (1868) a Little Red Riding Hood, a Hermit and his Cell, and many other subjects in which snow and the robin played a part."

W. S. WalshinCuriosities of Popular Customs

The Yule Clog

AMID the interior forms to be observed, on this evening, by those who would keep their Christmas after the old orthodox fashion, the first to be noticed is that of the Yule Clog. This huge block, which, in ancient times, and consistently with the capacity of its vast receptacle, was frequently the root of a large tree, it was the practice to introduce into the house with great ceremony, and to the sound of music.

In Drake's "Winter Nights" mention is made of the Yule Clog, as "lying, in ponderous majesty, on the kitchen floor," until "each had sung his Yule song, standing on its centre,"â€”ere it was consigned to the flames that

"Went roaring up the chimney wide."

This Yule Clog, according to Herrick, was to be lighted with the brand of the last year's log, which had been carefully laid aside for the purpose, and music was to be played during the ceremony of lighting.

This log appears to have been considered as sanctifying the roof-tree, and was probably deemed a protection againstthose evil spirits over whom this season was in every way a triumph. Accordingly, various superstitions mingled with the prescribed ceremonials in respect of it. From the authority already quoted on this subject, we learn that its virtues were not to be extracted unless it were lighted with clean handsâ€”a direction, probably, including both a useful household hint to the domestics, and, it may be, a moral of a higher kind:â€”

"Wash your hands or else the fireWill not tend to your desire;Unwash'd hands, ye maidens, know,Dead the fire though ye blow."

"Wash your hands or else the fire

Will not tend to your desire;

Unwash'd hands, ye maidens, know,

Dead the fire though ye blow."

Around this fire, when duly lighted, the hospitalities of the evening were dispensed; and as the flames played about it and above it, with a pleasant song of their own, the song and the tale and the jest went cheerily round.

T. K. Hervey

Come bring with a Noise

COME bring with a noise,My merry merry boys,The Christmas log to the firing;While my good dame, sheBids ye all be free,And drink to your heart's desiring.With the last year's brandLight the new block, andFor good success in his spending,On your psaltries play,That sweet luck mayCome while the log is a tending.Drink now the strong beer,Cut the white loaf here,The while the meat is a shredding,For the rare mince-pies;And the plums stand by,To fill the paste that's a kneading.Robert Herrick

COME bring with a noise,My merry merry boys,The Christmas log to the firing;While my good dame, sheBids ye all be free,And drink to your heart's desiring.

COME bring with a noise,

My merry merry boys,

The Christmas log to the firing;

While my good dame, she

Bids ye all be free,

And drink to your heart's desiring.

With the last year's brandLight the new block, andFor good success in his spending,On your psaltries play,That sweet luck mayCome while the log is a tending.

With the last year's brand

Light the new block, and

For good success in his spending,

On your psaltries play,

That sweet luck may

Come while the log is a tending.

Drink now the strong beer,Cut the white loaf here,The while the meat is a shredding,For the rare mince-pies;And the plums stand by,To fill the paste that's a kneading.Robert Herrick

Drink now the strong beer,

Cut the white loaf here,

The while the meat is a shredding,

For the rare mince-pies;

And the plums stand by,

To fill the paste that's a kneading.

Robert Herrick

Shoe or Stocking

IN Holland, children set their shoes,This night, outside the door;These wooden shoes Knecht Clobes sees,And fills them from his store.But here we hang our stockings upOn handy hook or nail;And Santa Claus, when all is still,Will plump them, without fail.Speak out, you "Sober-sides," speak out,And let us hear your views;Between a stocking and a shoe,What do you see to choose?One instant pauses Sober-sides,A little sigh to fetchâ€”"Well, seems to me a stocking's best,For wooden shoes won't stretch!"Edith M. Thomas

IN Holland, children set their shoes,This night, outside the door;These wooden shoes Knecht Clobes sees,And fills them from his store.

IN Holland, children set their shoes,

This night, outside the door;

These wooden shoes Knecht Clobes sees,

And fills them from his store.

But here we hang our stockings upOn handy hook or nail;And Santa Claus, when all is still,Will plump them, without fail.

But here we hang our stockings up

On handy hook or nail;

And Santa Claus, when all is still,

Will plump them, without fail.

Speak out, you "Sober-sides," speak out,And let us hear your views;Between a stocking and a shoe,What do you see to choose?

Speak out, you "Sober-sides," speak out,

And let us hear your views;

Between a stocking and a shoe,

What do you see to choose?

One instant pauses Sober-sides,A little sigh to fetchâ€”"Well, seems to me a stocking's best,For wooden shoes won't stretch!"Edith M. Thomas

One instant pauses Sober-sides,

A little sigh to fetchâ€”

"Well, seems to me a stocking's best,

For wooden shoes won't stretch!"

Edith M. Thomas

By permission of Houghton Mifflin Company

Jule-Nissen

I Â DO not know how the forty years I have been away have dealt with "Jule-nissen," the Christmas elf of my childhood in far-off Denmark. He was pretty old then, gray and bent, and there were signs that his time was nearly over. So it may be that they have laid him away. I shall find out when I go over there next time. When I was a boy we never sat down to our Christmas Eve dinner until a bowl of rice and milk had been taken up to the attic, where he lived with the martin and its young, and kept an eye upon the houseâ€”saw that everything ran smoothly. I never met him myself, but I know the house cat must have done so. No doubt they were well acquainted; for when in the morning I went in for the bowl, there it was, quite dry and licked clean, and the cat purring in the corner. So, being there all night, she must have seen and likely talked with him....

The Nisse was of the family, as you see,â€”very much of it,â€”and certainly not to be classed with the cattle. Yet they were his special concern; he kept them quiet, saw to it, when the stableman forgot, that they were properly bedded and cleaned and fed. He was very well known to the hands about the farm, and they said that he looked just like a little old man, all in gray and with a pointed red night-cap and long gray beard. He was always civilly treated, as indeed he deserved to be, but Christmas was his great holiday, when he became part of it, indeed, and was made much of. So, for that matter, was everything that lived under the husbandman's roof or within reach of it. Even the sparrows that burrowed in the straw-thatch and did it no good were not forgotten. A sheaf of rye was setout in the snow for them on the Holy Eve, so that on that night at least they should have shelter and warmth unchallenged, and plenty to eat. At all other times we were permitted to raid their nests and help ourselves to a sparrow roast, which was by long odds the greatest treat we had. Thirty or forty of them, dug out by the light of the stable-lantern and stuffed into Ane's long stocking, which we had borrowed for a game-bag, made a meal for the whole family, each sparrow a fat mouthful. Ane was the cook, and I am very certain that her pot roast of sparrow would pass muster at any Fifth Avenue restaurant as the finest dish of reed-birds that ever was. However, at Christmas their sheaf was their sanctuary, and no one as much as squinted at them. Only last winter, when Christmas found me stranded in a little Michigan town, wandering disconsolate about the streets, I came across such a sheaf raised on a pole in a dooryard, and I knew at once that one of my people lived in that house and kept Yule in the old way. So I felt as if I were not quite a stranger.

Blowing in the Yule from the grim old tower that had stood eight hundred years against the blasts of the North Sea was one of the customs of the old town that abide, however it fares with the Nisse; that I know. At sun-up, while yet the people were at breakfast, the town band climbed the many steep ladders to the top of the tower, and up there, in fair weather or foulâ€”and sometimes it blew great guns from the wintry seaâ€”they played four old hymns, one to each corner of the compass, so that no one was forgotten. They always began with Luther's sturdy challenge, "A Mighty Fortress is Our God," while down below we listened devoutly. There was something both weird and beautiful about those far-away strains inthe early morning light of the northern winter, something that was not of earth and that suggested to my child's imagination the angels' songs on far Judean hills. Even now, after all these years, the memory of it does that. It could not have been because the music was so rare, for the band was made up of small store-keepers and artisans who thus turned an honest penny on festive occasions. Incongruously enough, I think the official town mourner, who bade people to funerals, was one of them. It was like the burghers' guard, the colonel of whichâ€”we thought him at least a general, because of the huge brass sword he trailed when he marched at the head of his menâ€”was the town tailor, a very small but very martial man. But whether or no, it was beautiful. I have never heard music since that so moved me. When the last strain died away, came the big bells with their deep voices that sang far out over field and heath, and our Yule was fairly under way.

Jacob RiisinThe Old Town

THE BELLS.Blashfield.

"Lame Needles" in EubÅ“a

IN the first place, it must be clearly understood that Christmas time to a Greek is by no means considered as festive; in fact they look upon the twelve days which intervene between Christmas and Epiphany rather with abhorrence than otherwise; it is to them the season when ghosts and hobgoblins are supposed to be most rampant; it is generally cold, ungenial weather, and the Greeks of to-day, like their ancestors, live contented only when the warm rays of the life-giving sun scorch them. They can get up no enthusiasm as we can about yule logs and blazingfires, for they have nothing to warm themselves with save small charcoal braziers capable of communicating heat to not more than one limb at a time; all the festive energies of the race are reserved for Carnival and Easter-tide, when the warmth of spring enables them once more to enjoy life out-of-doorsâ€”the only one tolerable when you know what their low dirty houses are like....

For a month before Christmas every pious Greek has observed a rigid fast; consequently the "table" which on that day is spread in every house produces something akin to festivity. On a small round table was placed a perfect mountain of maccaroni and cheeseâ€”coarse sheep's-milk cheese which stung the mouth like mustard and left a pungent taste which tarried therein for days. There were no plates, no forks, no spoons. What a meal it was indeed, as if it were a contest in gastronomic activity! I was left far behind in the contest, and great was my relief when it was removed and dried fruits and nuts took its place. To drink we had resinated wineâ€”that is to say wine which had been stored in a keg covered with resin inside, which gives the flavor so much relished by the Greeks, but which is almost as unpalatable to an Englishman as beer must be to those who drink it for the first time. The wine, however, had the effect of loosening the tongues of my friends, who had been too busy as yet to talk, and they told me many interesting Christmas tales.

In the first place the conversation turned on certain spirits called "lame needles," which every EubÅ“an woman of low degree will tell you visit the earth at this season of the year; one lame needle, presumably the leader, comes on Christmas Eve, and the rest of the tribe put in an appearance on Christmas Day. They are dreadful creaturesto look upon, and according to my friends, they live in caves whilst on earth, near which no wise person at this season of the year will venture.

They subsist, like the Amazons of old, on snakes and lizards, and sometimes on women, if they are lucky enough to entrap one.

These demons are only dangerous at night from sunset to cockcrow. When not engaged in dancing the lame needles wander about, and do any amount of mischief. It is their custom to enter houses by the chimney, so every housewife is careful at this season of the year to leave some embers burning all night, for they dread fire and also crosses, and it is for this reason that at Christmas time we see so many whitewash crosses on the cottage doors in Greece.... When Epiphany comes these lame needles are forced to flee again underground; but before they go they take a hack at the tree which supports the world, and which one day they will cut through. In appearance these ugly visitors are supposed to be goat-footed goblins, far taller than any man; in fact, I should imagine that they are lineal descendants of the satyrs of old still haunting their accustomed purlieus.... I will give you a specimen of one of the stories which my friends told me when I slightly threw discredit on the above described apparitions. It is not a very lively one, but will show the character of the Christmas stories which are current in Greece to-day.

"A lame needle once overheard two women settling to get up at night during the season of the twelve days to leaven bread at the house of one of them. Accordingly he knocked at the door of the woman who was going to carry her dough to the other's house and pretended to be a messenger sent to hurry her.

"Fearing nothing, the silly woman set off with her dough accompanied by the uncanny messenger. When they had got a little distance the lame needle turned round and said, 'Stop; I wish to eat you!' Whereat the woman recognized who he was, and mindful of the fact that lame needles are very inquisitive, she replied, 'Just wait till I tell you a story.' It was very long and very interesting, so the first cock crew before it was finished. 'It is only the black one; go on; I have yet time,' said the eager lame needle. Then the second cock crew, and he said, 'It is only the red one; I have nought yet to fear.' Just as the woman had reached the most thrilling part of her story the third cock crew, 'It is the white one,' exclaimed the terrified hobgoblin; 'I must be gone.'"

I am sure this story is believed by the peasants of EubÅ“a.

J. Theodore Bent

Who Rides behind the Bells?

OUR shabby drawing-room was ablaze with red candles; and what with holly red on the walls and the snow banking the casements and bells jingling up and down the avenue, the sense of Christmas was very real. For me, Christmas seems always to be just past or else on the way; and that sixth sense of Christmas being actually Now is thrice desirable.

On the stroke of nine we two, waiting before the fire, heard Nichola on the basement stairs; and by the way in which she mounted, with labor and caution, I knew that she was bringing the punch. We had wished to have it readyâ€”that harmless steaming punch compounded from my mother's recipeâ€”when our guests arrived, so thatthey should first of all hear the news and drink health to Eunice and Hobart.

Nichola was splendid in her scarlet merino and that vast cap effect managed by a starched pillow-case and a bit of string, and over her arm hung a huge holly wreath for the bowl's brim. When she had deposited her fragrant burden and laid the wreath in place she stood erect and looked at us solemnly for a moment, and then her face wrinkled in all directions and was lighted with her rare puckered smile.

"Merâ€”ry Christmas!" she said.

"Merry Christmas, Nichola!" we cried, and I think that in all her years with us we had never before heard the words from her lips.

"Whogoes ridin' behind the sleigh-bells to-night?" she asked then abruptly.

"Who rides?" I repeated, puzzled.

"Yes," Nichola said; "this is a night when all folk stay home. The whole world sits by the fire on Christmas night. An' yet the sleigh-bells ring like mad. It is not holy."

Pelleas and I had never thought of that. But there may be something in it. Who indeed, when all the world keeps hearth-holiday, who is it that rides abroad on Christmas night behind the bells?

"Good spirits, perhaps, Nichola," Pelleas said, smiling.

"I do not doubt it," Nichola declared gravely; "that is not holy eitherâ€”to doubt."

"No," we said, "to doubt good spirits is never holy."

Zona GaleinThe Loves of Pelleas and Etarre

Guests at Yule

NÃ–EL! NÃ¶el!Thus sounds each Christmas bellAcross the winter snow.But what are the little footprints allThat mark the path from the church-yard wall?These are those of the children waked to-nightFrom sleep by the Christmas bells and light:Ring sweetly, chimes! Soft, soft, my rhymes!Their beds are under the snow.NÃ¶el! NÃ¶el!Carols each Christmas bell.What are the wraiths of mistThat gather anear the window-paneWhere the winter frost all day has lain?They are soulless elves, who fain would peerWithin, and laugh at our Christmas cheer:Ring fleetly, chimes! Swift, swift, my rhymes!They are made of the mocking mist.NÃ¶el! NÃ¶el!Cease, cease, each Christmas bell!Under the holly bough,Where the happy children throng and shout,What shadows seem to flit about?Is it the mother, then, who died,Ere the greens were sere last Christmastide?Hush, falling chimes! Cease, cease, my rhymes!The guests are gathered now.Edmund Clarence Stedman

NÃ–EL! NÃ¶el!

Thus sounds each Christmas bell

Across the winter snow.

But what are the little footprints all

That mark the path from the church-yard wall?

These are those of the children waked to-night

From sleep by the Christmas bells and light:

Ring sweetly, chimes! Soft, soft, my rhymes!

Their beds are under the snow.

NÃ¶el! NÃ¶el!Carols each Christmas bell.What are the wraiths of mistThat gather anear the window-paneWhere the winter frost all day has lain?They are soulless elves, who fain would peerWithin, and laugh at our Christmas cheer:Ring fleetly, chimes! Swift, swift, my rhymes!They are made of the mocking mist.

NÃ¶el! NÃ¶el!

Carols each Christmas bell.

What are the wraiths of mist

That gather anear the window-pane

Where the winter frost all day has lain?

They are soulless elves, who fain would peer

Within, and laugh at our Christmas cheer:

Ring fleetly, chimes! Swift, swift, my rhymes!

They are made of the mocking mist.

NÃ¶el! NÃ¶el!Cease, cease, each Christmas bell!Under the holly bough,Where the happy children throng and shout,What shadows seem to flit about?Is it the mother, then, who died,Ere the greens were sere last Christmastide?Hush, falling chimes! Cease, cease, my rhymes!The guests are gathered now.Edmund Clarence Stedman

NÃ¶el! NÃ¶el!

Cease, cease, each Christmas bell!

Under the holly bough,

Where the happy children throng and shout,

What shadows seem to flit about?

Is it the mother, then, who died,

Ere the greens were sere last Christmastide?

Hush, falling chimes! Cease, cease, my rhymes!

The guests are gathered now.

Edmund Clarence Stedman

By permission of Houghton Mifflin Company

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