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"94. ilvlnrlid‘.
" ICIA, I forgot to bring any-
thing for your Uncle Hurry!" Father, mother, and daughter- halfway-through-high-school were in a. huddle in the pantry, with the kid brother Ripley ("Rip" for shortl hovering curiously beyond the door.
“He won't care, Dad." The pret- ty brunette girl relieved her fath- er of his bundles. "With his radio act going over in a big way he can buy anything he likes. I hope he remembers a wrist watch with a. li‘tle diamond is nicer than a wrist watch with none."
"Whatever he gives you, Felicia. act as if it's what you want most," her mother warned. “Horrigan would rather be appreciated than anything else in the world. He knows I like pretty negligees. I let him know how I enjoy hls pres- enis."
“‘I was trying to land that con- tract with Davidson," the father explained. and I spent most of the cvcning with him at the lillcAlpin. Whrn I left there was barely an hour to shop. I didn't dare take a‘ late train, knowing we still had to decorate."
“Did you get the new orna-
ments?" Mother was pulling at o.
knobby package.
“Here, don't bother that. It's this one." Father tried to take off his muffler while watching the parcels. with eZght-ycar-old Rip calling, "Aren't you even going to say ‘Hello,’ Dad?"
“Sure, sonl I w.‘ helping Santa with his pack, that's all."
"Santa, hmph! Did you get my bicycle?"
"We'll see! We'll see!" As he went upstairs, trai'*d by boyish impatience, the wrrris floated back. ‘I simply forgot Hurry. There'd
Kin Arms Were Full of Holly- Papered Parcels-
have bzen time if I'd—"
“Feliria can go to the haber- dasher's right here," his wife solved the matter. "The important thing is to get the tree finished and the gifts spread under it before Hurry comes. He always admires my tree. Felicia, buy him one gift from your father and me, and one from you and your brother." “What would Uncle Hurry like," mother?"
“M-mm. He has everything he needs. and he never mentions anything he wants. Ask the clerk to suggest something." »
The silver star was aglow, the last fat Santa Claus clinging to a limb. Ekzlicizvs purchases had been ‘hastily wrapped in golden and green tissue, when tho door burst opcnadmitting Horrigan Carter, of “Hurry and Haste" radio com- gdy team. His arms were full of ‘rcd, green, and holly-papered par- cels, and behind him came the cheery chauffeur, his arms‘ full, too.
"Drop ‘em, Jamcs my lad. Now hurry to that girl of yours and make hay iwhile the snow falls. Come for me at eleven. I-Icre, don't ycu need a little extra? It's Christ- mas." Uncle Hurry put a bill in the man's hand and clapped the doar shut.
“Felicia, what a. lovely tree! You always have something original. Sophia. Henry. how's business? And." (looking around) "where's Rip?"
“Ri-i-ipley!" called Felicia, fling- ing open the dinirg room door. In the midst of discarded outer wrappings, a red-faced small boy was struggling with tissue and ribbons.
“Aw, gee, Flice. I wanted to tic it myself. Aw, geel Why'd you have to go open the door? I spent all ih-e money I earned cuttin’ lawns last summer and shovelin’ snow this week, an’—Aw, 1",“, it's a fine gifl. If I could get it fixed, it would look swell.”
Uncle Hurry jumped to close the door. "Go ahead, old fellow. We won't. look."
"It's no use. Evcrybodyis saw," Rip came toward lhem with the gift protuding from its wrappfnzs. It was a salad bowl with a wooden mixing spoon. .
"Who's it for, Ripley?" mother asked.
"Uncle Hurry!"
Felicia began to laugh. “What a gift for Uncle Hurry! Why, Rip, you give salad bowls to ladies, not men."
Rip looked dlaconsolate. "He aaid he wanted it. We were pass- ing that chop whera thov cell old things and he slink-you did, Uncle Hurry. you said, ‘Jove what n. quaint salad bowli I'd like that!"
"Of course I did. Next day when I went to buy it~for mv kitchen- ette they said it had been put awrde for some o-e. It's great to get it this way!"
"I guano even Santa Claus would rather what he wanted was given to him than to buy it for himself," said Rip wisely.
Those New Skis‘
Once" again this Chrlstmasymany of you boys and girls-and grown- ups, too-will be receiving bright shiny new skis. No, not in your stockings. But you'll probably find them standing beside the tree on the great morning.
And, of course, you'll want to
get them orl and go out as soon as possible. So, in order that you'll have only the fcw difficulties that -must be overcome by hard prac- tice, excerpts from an enlighten- ing and interesting article on “How to Ski," written by M. G. Putnam, and appearing, in tho Canadian Ski Year Book, are re- produced here.
In learning to ski (writes Mk. Putnam) there are a. few element- ary factors with which to becomo familiar. One must start off “on the right foot" as it were. Many start off in a haphazard fashion and by the time they realize there is a right and wrong way, an easy‘ and hard way to do things. the‘ have fallen into bad habits Wham! takes months of undoing to over- come. '
Just a few minutes of instruc- tion from one who knows will work wonders in a. very short time.
In ski-lug on the level, keep the skis close together so that a nar- row track or spoor will result. The very important feature to master is the "glide" of the ski. Do not walk with the ski, or lift it from the snow, butslide it along in a free, easy glide, so that only tho heel of the ski leaves the snow. This is accomplished by leaning the body and shoulders slightly forward from the hips, with thL knees relaxed yet elastic, and bent forward. Now advance one ski in a short effortless glide, with most of , the weight on the leading ski. When doing this, be careful not to press backward on the other ski.
When the advanced ski has be- gun to lose its momentum, resume the slide with the other ski by drawing it slowly forward and ad- vancing it in the same effortless glide as before, with the knees at all times relax-ed and bent for- ward. When shifting the weight from one ski to another, do it slowly and gradually, for quick, jerky movements will result in back-slipping. Take comparatively shtrt gldes with each ski, so i r. both skis will actually be Sliding forward at all times. Taking too long a stride will defeat this pur- pose. and will result in a jerky, fr- regular side. Remember to slide the ski, lean forward, look wel. ahead of the ski, not down at the and bent forward.
The most important requisite for downhill ski-ing is the ability to kecp relaxed. Only thus can the weght be kcpt wcll forward. Prac- tice leaning the weight forward until the heel of the boot com- mences to lift off the ski, and you will then know that your weight is well forward. However, when in motion, the heel of the boot should always adhere to the ski.
In commencing the slide down- hill, advance one ski slightiy ahead of the other while keeping them as close together as possible. Tho reason for this is to provide great- er steadiness when passing over uneven snow- It also increases tho contrcl when turning, as all turns are commenced with the skis com- paratively close together. Tho knees should be relaxed, yet ei- astic, and should extend well for- ward over the toes. The, "seat" of thcskier should not be held in a squat position, but should lean forward from the hips. The upper part of the body should be com- paratively straight from the hips to the shoulders, and should be leaned well forward over the knees. Do not make the mistake of humping the back in a. cramped and unnatural posture.
The tendency of the beginning when learning to ski downhill is to lean backwards in a. stiff and strained fashion. This is caused through fear of going too fast, and by not owing just what is liable to happen next. The result is that when any unevenness or of gradicntlof the snow terrain is encountered, the weight of the body is so far back that the skis cannot be controlled, and then. is a fall backward.
On steep slopes where great speed is attained, the forward lean should be accentuated to such an extent that one feels that the skis will always catch up to the body, but that once the weight gets too far backward, it can seldom be brought forward again.
On a slope or gentle grade, the forward lean should only be slight. 'I'his is termed an ordinary crouch position. On steeper grades when the speed is increased, the crouch is more pronounced and may be termed a medium crouch. On very steep grades, when great speed is obtained, the crouch is very pro- nounced and low, and is termed an extreme crouch. In the crouch po- sition the centre of gravity is low- cred and balance is maintained by having the weight Well forward. The wind resistance is reduced, creating speed, turning is simpli- fied, and the danger ofinjury from a fail is minimized.
If high speed turns are required’
when travelling at great. speed down slopes, care should be taken to guard against tha crouch posi- tion being so low that you lose tho elasticity of the knees and legs. A sustained crouch is very tiring both to the shins and to tho muscles just above the knees. To overcome the tendency to cramp. the crouch should be modified at times.
The most prevalent fault oom- mitied in the crouch is the inclin- ation of the akior to squat tbe out downward and backward, which throws the weight too for BN3. and also pulls the knees and shim $h The result is that turning il made dflicult, and than il no oi- csticity in t’ e kneel to absorb nay shocks or unduiivfonc onoountcrcd in the snow terrain.
In downhill ski-ing it is a mil-
chango '
unmuurriribwu " _ ‘T?
reminiscence:
Santa All The Year Is Found To Be Good Idea
SANTA CLAUS comes in July as well as December to those who nezd him in Columbia, Mo. Last Christmas a dollar given anony- mouay by "a group of children” was used by the Wefare society there to start a fund for year- round needs, instead of gorging people with too many baskets of good'es one day out of 365.
These are some of the things the fund has paid for; glasses o re- place those broken by a boy whose mother washes to keep him in school- means of gettln" a crippled girl to and from school shoes for the old horse used by the society when there is hauling to be done; the cane a grandfather needed to help him get about: fares of a. trachcma ratlent and a l3ilb€‘."‘lllBI‘ child who wcrc sent to hospitals; soap and a razor for a. young man who wanted to clean up so he could try fcr a job.
Regular donations to the society may be spent only for food, fuel, clothing and shelter; these all-the- year gifts though badly needed, would have been impossible but for the dollaxjfrom the children "to use any way you want" that gave wel- fare workers the iris; of the Sarita Claus fund-Frances Grinstead.
Christmas In Christ’s Land IsWith0ut Snow
TITLE Christian children who live in Jerusalem or who are traveling there with their parents will not have a snowy Christmas. Snow almost never falls in Pales- tine, for the temperature is seldom ba-low 38 degrees. When it does snow, the flakzs melt as soon as they touch the ground.
Most of the people in the country where the infant Jesus was born do not celebrate Christmas, however! For only a. few of them are Christi- ans; most are Moslems or Jews. There are some Christmas trees in Christian homes, and gifts are ex- changedamong those who observe Christ's blthday- But there are no street decorations and no late shopping problems. The post offices have no big signs urging “Mail your packages eafy."
Yet .here is probably no place in the world more appropriate to visit at Christmas. The Holy Sepulchra is in the old pert of the city, and at Bethlehem; six miles south. is a great church that has replaced the humble inn where Christ was born. Inside is a large flat stone on which the infant Jesus is supposed to have been laid, reminding us how Chrlstianit" grew from one hum- ble "few-Frances Grlnstead.
take to keep the same ski always in advance. One should alternate them at times. If this is done, the tendency to become one-aided
when turning will be overcome.
\
AT cumsnfas rm:
"Henry, what were you conven- ing with tho aahman about?"
"Why, Ho on, I was trying to coax him to snacks those cigars you
. gave me for a Ohziftnw present."
“Call him back. Henry."
"Ab, you would like to ace him take the cigars?"
"No, I want him to take coma poi-fume to his with-you know. don, the perfume you leloctod for my Christmas gifts."
(F. On Christmas Giits i
JOLLY OLD SAINT NICHOLAS e-Looks Over His Lists
i
THE APPROACH of Ch.lstmas is heralded in Archery Road by; many of the signs that are known to the less civilized and mo.e pros- pmous parts of the city. The mo- ple .ook poorer, cold-er, and more hopeful than at other times. The bakeries assume an old count.y appearance of gayety. ‘The saloons are well nlLd. Also. if you have your eyes about you, you may catch a. glimpse now and then, hrough a hosted window pane of a stunt- ed Christmas t.ce, laden slndzr- ly with glass balls ‘and ropes of “red popcorn, the work of painful hands after the childern‘ are abed.
Mr. Doo‘ey knew Christmas was coming by the calendar, the expir- ation of his quarterly license, and Mr. Hennessey coming in with a doll in his pocket and a. rocking- chair under his arm.
“Prlcnt's?" said the philosopher. “Yesf” said Mr. Hennessey. “I had to do it. I med up me mind this year that I wudden't buy anny chrismas presents or take anny. 1 can't ‘a ford it. Times has been fearful ha-ard and a look of pain comes over th' oi’ woman's face whln I hold out fifty cints fr'm me salary on Saturdaq night. I give it out that I didn't want annything. but they'se so much scuixying ar-round an’ hidin’ things whln 1 go in that I know they've got somethin’ f'r me. I cudden’t stand it no longer, so I wint down town tonight, down be Shekel an‘ whooperls place an’ biuught these things. This is a. fine doll f'r th’ money."
"It is," said Mr. Dooley, taking the doll and examining it with the eye of an art critic. "It closesits eyes-yes, an‘ bedad, it cries if you punch it. They‘ re makin‘ these things more like human bellfs ivry year. An’ does it say pap-pan an’ mum-man, I dinnaw?"
“No," said Mr. Hennesifil’. “We can't have ivrything we want in this wurruld. 1f I had me way, I'd buy goould watches an’ chains f'r ivrybody in th’ r-road, an’ a. few iv th' good Germans. I feel that girrrous. But ‘tis no use. Ye can't give what ye want. Ivry little boy
cis a. pony at Chris-mas, an‘
ixpe ivry little girl a. chain an' locket;
an’ ivry man_thinks he's sure gain‘ to get tn‘ goold-headed cane hed
Christmas Presents To Suit Individual Tastes
BERTIIA NEVIENS and her best friend. Mary Parks. were dis--
cussing Christmas. "It's absurd. Mary," Bertha was saying. I01" two grown women t0 8991111 quite ll~ lot of money, as wc do each year. for foolish presents."
"But, Bertha, we have no famll- fes, and it wouldn't seem like Christmas at all-J’
“Oh, we'll exchange aim. 0' course, darling. Only I think for so long, we should be perfectly frank about what we wont."
"You have something in
' Marv smiled, and as Bertha agreed -"Well," she oontinued-"so ha-vv I. Something I've wanted for ever so long."
"What?" asked Bertha.
"Guess. It is to put in my livina room, near the window. The main part is small, and the outside needn't be largo-J‘
"What la it madc of?" .
“Wood. uaucFy. and metal- Mgggl wing, gnywnv. And ‘it will be company for m_o—"
"To have sweet melody fioatinz on tho din-Am I rightfAnd the color doocrrt matter so 1on8 as it ha! a clear tone?"
"Why vea._but bow did you guess so nui-kly?"
"Because r wanted exactly the mm thing for Just afns- I'll oive you one and you rive me on»!
But what Ohrktmns brmmht to Bertha was a radio, while mm m: f: sage and ocnaryn-Heion Geis- or .
mind.” -
v
longed f'r since he came over. But they are fin'liy land on rockirl‘ ilOf5cS an’ do ls, an‘ suspinders that r-iun pink flowers into their chtts an’ tatco than in summer. An’ they conceal their - grief Christmas mornln" an’ thry to look pleasant
‘with murdher in thxll‘ hearts.
“Some wan has always give me a Cn.is'mas present. tho’ no wan us. unny r-ilght to. But no wan ivcr Que me annythiug I cud wear or me 0i dhrinr or Emokti or curl me hair with. I've had Jacks iv whisky give rue-me that have lash- nfs iv whsky at me elbow day an’ night, an' wh.n I opened them. bluc an’ yellow flames come out an’ some iv th’ s.uff r-run over th’ iln.c. an’ set fire to th’ buildin’. I ..mol~.c tn’ best. five-cent see-gar that money can buy; yet whirl a. good frind iv mine wants to make inc a prisint f'r Chrismas he goes to a harness shop an‘ buys a box iv se.gars with excelztor fi11in'o an’ burlap wrappers, an’ if I smok- ed onc an‘ lived, I'd be arrested f'r arson. I got a pair iv suspend- crs wanst him a lady-niver mind her 1iaine,—-an' I wurruked hard that day; an‘ th’ decorations mov- ccl back into me, an’ 1 had to take tlnm out with pumice stone, I didn't lose til’ taste iv the paint f'r weeks and weeks.
"wan year Iwanted a watch more thin annythtig in th’ wurruld. I talked watches to ivry wan that I thought had designs on me. I made it a pint to ask me frind’s. what time iv night it was an‘ then £8)’, ‘Dear me, I ought to get a watch if I cud affoord it.’ I used to tout peoplc flown to til‘ jooler's shop an’ sum‘ be in’ window with a hungry look in in’ eyes iv me, as much as in say, ‘If I don't get a. watch I'll lleiisli! I talked watches an’ thought WilLCllEiS an’ d-hrcamed watches. Father Kelly rebuked me {'1' bein’
late f'r mass. ‘How can I get thcre'
befure th‘ gospll, whin I don't know what time it is?’ says I. ‘Why don't ye luk at ye'er watch?’ lie says. ‘I haven't none,’ says I. Did he give me a watch? Faith he did not. I-Ic sln't me a box iv soap that made me smell like n coon gain’ to a ball in a state sthxeet ca-ar. I got a necktie frim wan man an’ if I wore it to a meetin’ iv th‘ young Hebrews chartable society theycfve thrown me out. That man wanted me to be kilt. Another la-ad sint rue-a silk handkerchief that broke on me poor nose. Th’ nearest I got m a watch was a hair chain that unravelled, an’ made me lcck as if I'd been carryin‘ a Shet- land pony. I niver got what I want- ed, an" I niver expect to. No wan does."
"I'll get ye what ye want," said Mr. Ifcnnesaey, "if ye'll tell me what it is an’ it don't cost too much.“
“Will ye?" said Mr. Dooley, eag- eriy. "I will," said Mr. I-lennesscy, "if ‘tis within me means."
"Yefe jokirf," said Mr. Dooley.
"I'm not. I mane it."
“Do ye, hornet?"
"Then," said Mr. Dooley, "get mo th’ audictocrocm. I've wanted that to play with f'r manny years."
And Mr. Hennesscy went away with the rocking-chair under his arm, the doll in his pocket, and dumb anger in his heart.
CHRISTMAS MUSINGS
Thc shadows were falling around; The twilight was seokinc its own; I mused on the silence of dying
d“.
As I cat by my window clone. In the midst of fhcirgnt. I saw _In a cottage not fu- awsy;
A spirit of life seemed to move; In tho Christmas canola gay.
finapoken ltory of Christ‘: birtb
. ‘their mission seemed to any;
Th! B ‘lhlnfn ht t0 flab ‘Won m’ T». Ohwu
“Lone Wolf's” Tracks In The Christmas ' Snow
HERE he stood-"The Lone Wolfi" halfway down the hill- side midst a snow-wvered lands- cape, the moon and stars disclos- ing his tracks and shadowy limo-o upon the glistening sheet of loo coated snow. He gazed hungrily toward a small group of houses huddled together at the foot of the hill. a faint "ight gleaming _from their windows.
As Marv Louis~ was absorbed in turkcy-drewing, cranberries, . recipe books a ld Clrlstmas spices. her thouchts wandcrcrl to this 'beauti-
ful picture. "The Lone Wolf." For ‘
manv years she had longed to noc- sess it, but her husband did not ao- prove. so she had done without it.
Mary Louise b"u=hed away a tear as she thoucht of the coveted pic- ture and then promptly forgot all about it in her loving efforts to make her family happy on Christ- mas.
When all was in readiness and the tree beautifully trimmed. Mary Louise called in the femilv for the Christmas celebration. How the chi‘dr»=-n dan~ed and tore about the toy-strewn living room! How dear old John absorb-id him self in his brand-new smoking out fiti
Was Mary Louise to receive noth- in"?
Taming. she saw John tacking up "e most adorable bit of tapestry he had ever seerh-"The Lone Wolf"! Just the think for that great cmptv wail space! "Merry Christmas Mary." said John. as they all stood gazing, upon "The Lone Wolf" with his tracks in the snow-Alice B Palmer. l
Christmas Is Ireland's I
Greatest 0f All Feasts
IN NO country is Christmas looked forward to with greater anticipation than in Ireland. For centuries the coming of the Christ Child has been hailed with un- bounded iov by the people of tho Emerald Isle.
Many stories associated with Christmas are repeated year after year around Irish fimsides. An old legend mils that sometimes on Christmas eve Mary and . the Christ Child wander abroad cock- ing shelter. Fearful lest they might seek in vain, as they did in Bethlehemlong v.30. a lighted c“. die. is olaced in every window to zuide them to a place of refuge, There are left burning through the night, gleaming into the dark- ness. Sllidfnrz any wandered that might be abroad: for the legend also tolls that the "Mother and Child" may come in almost any
Kuise.
All the world remembers Ireland at Christmas, for her children no scattered in every land. A steady stream of gifts and good wish“ 0011168 Pouring into her antes. Families divided by stretching cone are reunited in spirit. u the bridge of time and space is broken by the 01d hlPlYY Erecting, "A Merry Christmas and n. Bright New Year."— Katherine Edelrmn.
"Mableb afraid I wasn't Icing to (in birthing to bar."
"flow do you know?" ,
“Sbo lent he: Christ-mu gift w m0 lut week "
x5e (Quunri; l)u<l0r$ ‘viii:
firbpa
gig-gym“ light] for the tree. She pulled‘ down the shades. h “when m easy choir towards t c fire. I-Ialsy would be home any time r ow, cold and wear!’ "W! 111B . round of calls on sick 9109M Th" was t. eir first Christmas eve to- gether since they had been mar-
“may had started out on his rounds at noon. At three he had telephoned to say he was obliged to abandon h‘; car. The snow WM
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In“
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W, dew m; 11nd borrowed a pair of snowshoes and a Ill-l‘ @811. and with b" in hand, was about to walk a road leadinfl lihmllkll W6 woods to a small shack where a sick woman lay waitinl his mulls‘ tratons. m. csddys worried l"- quiries, he said it would take him a couple of hours Then he had B three-mile walk further on tho main turnpike, to a child suffer- ing with n. qumzy we threat M- m- that, he would retrace his gups, get his car, and drive home.
Caddy gued into the flames.
This country practice covered miles '
and miles. I-lalsy was conscien- tious. l-la never failed in reach his patients somehow. but he was tired and worn out. And Caddy herself was often lonely. Her plans for fun, for little parties at home. "$11- ally ended in trying to get some- one to fill l-la'sy's place. She knew it would be like this. Halsy had warned her. She was sensible and
patient. Yet tonight . . . Christ- mas eve, and Halsys birthday. She sighed. . .she simply couldnt
bear to have anythifia a0 Wrong-
The telephone rang. “That you. Caddy? _I'm stuck again. The drifts are so deep I can't walk through. I'm our. of the wood road all safe, and within two miles of that sick child. But none of the farmers near here has 'a team of horses. I really need oxen to pull mo through. It's tough going."
"Oh," breathed Caddy, trying not to sound dismal.
"Caddy. I wonder." he hesitated. She could tell he was tired by the drag in his voice. "If you could possibly get Lem Saltei-‘s team of oxen and drive here for me! ~ I simply can't ask him to do it him- self. l-Ie has his daughter homo for the holidays and her family. It's Christmas.
Caiidy could not speak. She knew what this meant. Hours of being out in the storm. Heaven alone knew when they would get home. She glanced about the friendly, inviting room.
"Won't you, darling . . to help me out?"
Then she remembered some- thing her father had said to her on he": wedding day:
"You will never be allowed to forget you are the wife of a coun- try doctor. But I think he's worth it . . . if Ybu are!"
So now over the telephone she said, "All right. Stay where you are. Get warm and rested. and I'll be there by Shanghai Empress!"
The tedious drive behind the oxen seemed endless. The snow sifted down inside her collar. It blinded her. She was not actually suffering, but she was pretty un- comfortable. On . . . and on . . . and on. Thc whirling cur- tains swept before her. The snow drifted across the broad backs of the patient beasts. They took their‘
\
own way in their
own plodding time. Caddy sat on a. box wrapped round with a bear rug.
. and on. Creak ...croak- . .tho swaying of the beasts was like some grotesque. nightmarish rhythm. Che almost fell asleep.
Then out of the whiteness ahead one ‘heard o about. "Hey . . . bio-la your heart, darling!" And 5115i! lumped aboard.
The child was very sick. The throat had to be lonced. Caddy forgot her injured feelings. Sho helped capabiy. The mother, worn and harmed, thanked them both with Mm in her eyes. And w- gcthcr tbdy drank coffee beside a humble kitchen stove. and ate a? llama gffitgiiki‘ barttorod bread.
W y c phoned for Ohristmll
0nandon..
Ive, yot. curiously womb. it seamed bottcr than the other. I had . , to
_ "Th! is tlvoly the but onrzmnu evo ever apcnt in‘ my lifoi" she whispered.
Behind a largo buttered slice of bread he kfsud bot. “You an tho perfect pomm m n country doc- Nfl wife!" he wbilpercd book. .
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