Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 December 1888 — CHRISTMAS CHIMES. [ARTICLE]

CHRISTMAS CHIMES.

Hail, merry myth, of love designed liege of our sovereign pleasure; old Santa Ciaus, the jolly cause of bounty’s loving measure. Obedient to sentiment subject to mandates pleasant; old hale delight, who comes at night, supreme and MBhipresent. From temperate to torrid zone to glamoured distance frigid, to charm away distemper gray and bend composure rigid. To warm the heart with servant thrills, urge paeans of thanksgiving, so cynic mind perforce must find there lies some good in living. Revive declining fervency that else to waste would dwindle, and capture will with hearty thrill affection’s fire rekindle.

So do we pay, sweet holiday, our tribute to the season, as friend to friend the gifts we send, or maybe love’s the reason. Our treasures buy in purchase sly, strive to be undetected, and check surmise with chilly guise so gifts come unexpected. Contagious time, of song and chime, and epidemic laughter; rare vertigoes of happy throes, relapsing surfeit, after, when just below the mistleto the lad his lass has captured, and from the miss he steals a kiss, she startled, he enraptured; or in retreats exchange of sweets and privileges tender; the blushing maid yields half afraid in roseat surrender. Now romping night of wild delight, in childhood’s brief elysian, subjects the day to frolic sway, claims all that meets the vision; sweet little elves of smaller selves, deny them not their pleasure; their privilege ’tis to besiege our bounty’s largest measure, to fill the air with trumpet blare, make shout with fife

emphatic; their vim employ in noisy joy, from cellar unto attic. Seek not to lace their supple grace, with sober-stayed gallantry; speak not of ache from sweets or cake, or forage in the pantry. If unawares adown the stairs, on depredations sally, they would compel the citadel to open to their rally, the citadel, the pantry deep, where pies and sweets unnumbered and other cheer all through the year t ne groaning shelves have cumbered. Yet bolts and bars have held its jarsand locks have pastries hidden—a rare retreat of tempting sweet save on to-day forbidden. And stern reproof held them aloof from this preserve of pleasure. But all give way on Christmas day and let them have their measure.

From zone to zone its sway we own, the north wind in his palace; iis greeting blows—while glows the aurora borealis. The Esquimau upon the snow, their chilly homage tender, and dance all night in gleams of light through iceberg prismed splendor The polar bears steal unaware adown some icy chasm, and make a meal of lagging seal, with warm enthusiasm. The gales accost old etcher frost and echo shouts with laughter, while drifting floes and shifting snows clash icy mu'sic after. 1 Then Auster blows his torrid glows and Zephyrus comes later, and languor swoons ’neath suns and moons that glamour the equator. Here spicy gales steal through the vales in lyric languor humming. “Ho! ho! laugh they, “with oaded sleigh, old Santa Claus is coming. He brings the maid of dusky shade a talisman for lovers, so native art may win the heart thrit ’twixt two choices hovers. Old Rum Ti Foo, the monarch too, with tourist sits hobnobbing; he nods and winks, he drinks and drinks until his head goes bobbing. Each spicy isle is all a-smile with Christmas cheer entrancing, and happiness in wild excess whirls dizzily a-dancing.” Then “Hi hullo” his reindeer go ’twixt torrid and ’twixt “frigid, where mistletoe and rosy glow confront objection rigid. When trembling age turns back the page, and eyes have transient twihkles, and adds to wills rare codicils for knaves who kiss their wrinkles. When youth must kiss some ancient miss, some sallow-hued relation, for wealth, you know, and mistletoe, enforce the obligation. Once more away, the dawn is gray,

►Aurora's face appearing; unwary feet advance, retreat, unsteadily careering. Hale fellows met to drown regret and real in tipsy dances, and rasp their throats with husky notes and maudlin dissonances, uptil each knave tips us. a stave, with nerve and sense a tingle, and reel a'ong unto the song in honor of Kris Kringle. “Hail merry time of song and chime, the mistletoe and holly; hail pleasant cheer that crowns the year, rail everything that’s jolly. May sweets invite and gifts delight, may frolic urge to laughter; rare bits entice and all that’s nice, come plentifully after. Ho merry time of song and chime, joy speed each flying minute; bach moment dear because the year has but-pne Christmas in it” f 1