A Christmas Garden

A Christmas Garden.

(A prose recitation, or suggestion for composition.)

       There is a story told of a magician who conjured up a garden in the winter time. The wand of the wizard, however, is not necessary to dislose even in a northern climate in the cold months the beautiful contents of Nature's world. The varieties of evergreen, pine, hemlock, fir, cedar, and larch provide a variety of green foliage through the dreary-weather. The rich, clustering berries, besides their ornamental character, furnish food for the snowbirds. The Christmas rose, wax-like in its white purity, will bloom out of doors long after frost if a glass is turned over the plant on cold nights. The ivy remains glossy, its green berry another addition to our winter bouquet.

       Farther south, but still within our United States, the scarlet holly grows in luxuriance. So full of holiday association is this tree that its branches are carefully transported a thousand miles for use during Christmas week. Its crisp leaves, lively color, and happy sentiment make the holly, pre-eminent as a winter ornament, prince in our Christmas garden.

       A contrast is furnished by the delicate sprays of the mistletoe growing upon the limbs of the oak,

elm, and apple trees. The white berry attaches itself, curiously enough, without roots of any kind, and becomes an enduring plant.

A Christmas Carol

A Christmas Carol.

by J. R. Lowell

"What means this glory round our feet?"

The Magi mused, "more bright than morn?"

And voices chanted clear and sweet,

" To-day the Prince of Peace is born!"

"What means that star?" the shepherd said,

"That brightens through the rocky glen ?"

And angels answering overhead,

Sang, "Peace on earth, good will to men!"

'Tis eighteen hundred years and more

Since those sweet oracles were dumb;

We wait for Him, like them of yore;

Alas, He seems so slow to come!

But it was said, in words of gold,

No time or sorrow e'er shall dim,

That little children might be bold

In perfect trust to come to Him.

All round about our feet shall shine

A light like that the wise men saw,

If we our loving wills incline

To that sweet Life which is the Law.

So shall we learn to understand

The simple faith of shepherds then,

And clasping kindly hand in hand,

Sing, "Peace on earth, good will to men!"

And they who do their souls no wrong,

But keep at eve the faith of morn,

Shall daily hear the angel-song,

"To-day the Prince of Peace is born!"

Old English Christmases

Old English Christmases.

       The court celebrations of Christmas were observed with great splendor during the reign of King Charles the First. The royal family, with the lords and ladies, often took part themselves in the performances, and the cost to prepare costumes and sceneries for one occasion often amounted to ten thousand dollars. During Charles's reign, and preceding his, Ben Jonson wrote the plays, or masques, for Christmas. The court doings were, of course, copied outside by the people, and up to the twelfth night after Christmas, sports and feastings held high carnival.

       So important were these Christmas court celebrations held by our ancestors, and of such moment were the preparations, that a special officer was appointed to take them in charge. To him were accorded large privileges, very considerable appointments, and a retinue equal to a prince's, counting in a chancellor, treasurer, comptroller, vice-chamberlain, divine, philosopher, astronomer, poet, physician, master of requests, clown, civilian, ushers, pages, footmen, messengers, jugglers, herald, orator, hunters, tumblers, friar, and fools. Over this mock court the mock monarch presided during the holidays with a reign as absolute as the actual monarch.

The Power of Christmas

The Power of Christmas.

       Even under the pressure of battle the influence of the Christmas season has exerted a powerful effect. In 1428, during the war of the roses, while Orleans was under siege, the English lords, history tells us, requested the French commanders to suspend hostilities, and let the usual celebration of Christmas eye take their place. This was agreed to, and the air was filled with the song of the minstrels and the music of trumpets, instead of the discordant sounds of battle.

The Christmas Tree

The Christmas Tree.

(Recitation for a boy to give before a Christmas tree is dismantled.)

Of all the trees in the woods and fields

There's none like the Christmas tree;

Tho' rich and rare is the fruit he yields,

The strangest of trees is he.

Some drink their fill from the shower or rill;

No cooling draught needs he;

Some bend and break when the storms awake,

But they reach not the Christmas tree.

When wintry winds thro' the forests sweep,

And snow robes the leafless limb;

When cold and still is the ice-bound deep,

O this is the time for him.

Beneath the dome of the sunny home,

He stands with all his charms;

'Mid laugh and song from the youthful throng,

As they gaze on his fruitful arms.

There's golden fruit on the Christmas tree,

And gems for the fair and gay;

The lettered page for the mind bears he,

And robes for the wintry day.

And there are toys for the girls and boys;

And eyes that years bedim

Grow strangely bright, with a youthful light,

As they pluck from the pendant limb.

Peace on Earth

Peace on Earth.

by S. T. Coleridge

(Recitation for a high-school pupil.)

The shepherds went their hasty way,

And found the lowly stable shed

Where the Virgin-Mother lay;

And now they checked their eager tread,

For to the Babe that at her bosom clung

A mother's song the Virgin-Mother sung.

They told her how a glorious light,

Streaming from a heavenly throng,

Around them shone suspending night,

While, sweeter than a mother's song,

Blest angels heralded the Savior's birth,

Glory to God on high and Peace on Earth.

She listened to the tale divine,

And closer still the Babe she prest;

And while she cried, The Babe is mine!

The milk rushed faster to her breast;

Joy rose within her like a summer's morn;

Peace, Peace on Earth ! the Prince of Peace is born

Thou Mother of the. Prince of Peace,

Poor, simple, and of low estate !

That strife should vanish, battle cease,

O why should this thy soul elate?

Sweet music's loudest note, the poet' story --

Didst thou ne'er love to hear of fame and glory?

And is not War a youthful king,

A stately hero clad in mail?

Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;

Him Earth's majestic monarch's hail

Their friend, their playmate! and his bold bright eye

Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh.

" Tell this in some more courtly scene,

To maids and youths in robes of state!

I am a woman poor and mean,

And therefore is my soul elate.

War is a ruffian, all with guilt denied,

That from the aged father tears his child!

"A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,

He kills the sire and starves the son;

The husband kills, and from her hoard

Steals all his widow's toil had won;

Plunders God's world of beauty ; rends away

All safety from the night, all comfort from the day.

"Then wisely is my soul elate,

That strife should vanish, battle cease;

I'm poor and of a low estate,

The Mother of the Prince of Peace.

Joy rises in me like a summer's morn;

Peace, Peace on Earth ! the Prince of Peace is born."

A Letter from Santa Claus

A Letter from Santa Claus.

By William Howard.

(A little girl is seated with her notebook and pencil. A postman's whistle is heard, and she exclaims, " There is the postman!" She runs to the door and returns with a large envelope, made of white wrapping-paper sealed with red wax, which she tears open, announces it is written by Santa Claus to the pupils of the school, and then reads it aloud. In the last verse the names of the children present are to be substituted for the printed ones.)

Merry Christmas! little children,

From my home so far away

Send I loving Christmas greetings

To you on your holiday.

You may watch and wait till midnight,

Looking at the falling snow,

But be sure you won't discover

When I come or when I go.

For I come when all is silent,

Not a breath will then be heard,

And I softly through the chimney

Enter, saying not a word.

Quickly to the stockings step I,

And I place in every one

Something for the Christmas frolic,

Something for the Christmas fun.

Hark ! my reindeer out the window,

Prance and shake a warning note;

Santa Claus will speed away then,

Wrapping close his cap and coat.

Your surprise, when comes the morning,

Gladness which your bright eyes tell,

Grateful, merry, happy children,

Pleases Santa Claus full well.

Willie, Alice, Harry, Mary,

Christmas greetings now I send.

Cora, Freddie, Sadie, Johnnie,

Don't forget Santa Claus, your friend.

The Mousie

The Mousie.

By M. N. B.

(A very small primary boy may recite these lines.)

A mousie got into a great Christmas pie,

Two little boys heard him, and then they did cry,

" O mousie ! O mousie ! come quickly away!

That pie is not for you, 'tis for our Christmas day. 

 

A Message

A Message.

By Ella M. Powers.

(For three primary children to recite.)

First pupil: One true thing I have to say,

Clap your hands now, for you may,

It's very happy, very dear,

This Christmas day will soon be here

But children learn to understand,

That loyal heart and loving hand,

Can pray, " Oh, Saviour, so divine,

Make our lives so much like thine.'

Second pupil: Yes, far away that Christmas night,

A star above the Christ shone bright,

And led the shepherds from afar

To seek that bright and glorious star.

Third pupil: The shepherds came with presents rare

And knelt with tender love and care,

Before that child so sweet and true,

And loved Him as we all should do;

And that grand song we hear again,

"Peace on earth -- good will to men."

Kriss Kringle

Kriss Kringle.

By Susie M. Best.

If there's any one here who ever has seen

The face of Kriss Kringle, I'll think he is mean

If he is not willing at once to arise

And tell the real color and shape of his eyes!

Somehow I much doubt if the gentleman looks

Like the pictures we see in the shops and the books.

I've a sort of a notion we'd all be surprised

If we suddenly saw him, by day, undisguised!

Is he big, is he little, is he young, is he old?

There are some things, I know, that can't always be told.

But I'd much like to know why it is he must keep

Himself hidden securely till we are asleep 

I've made up my mind that I'm going to watch,

And see if I cannot by any means catch

One glimpse of his face as he comes down the flue,

And if I succeed I'll describe him to you!

My Christmas Secrets

My Christmas Secrets.

By S. C. Peabody.

Hurry Christmas ! How you creep !

I've some presents I can't keep,

Just this morning I forgot,

And told baby what I'd bought.

All he answered was, "Goo goo!"

So I don't think that he knew,

I told mamma hers was white,

And she'd wear it every night.

That she'd need it getting tea.

Then my mamma smiled at me,

And she whispered, "Isn't May

Letting secrets fly away"

Christmas Morn

Christmas Morn.

By M. N. B.

(Recitation and chorus. A semi-circle of primary children is formed on he stage. They sing first verse of the familiar church tune, "Joy to the world.")

Chorus. -- Joy to the world, the Lord has come,

Let earth receive her King,

Let every heart prepare him room,

And heaven and nature sing.

Recitation (one child steps forward). --

In Bethlehem, the story goes,

A little Child was born,

Low in a manger He was laid

The first glad Christmas morn.

That Child is now our Savior King,

Of Him we sing to-day;

And may glad bells o'er all the earth

Ring out a gladsome lay.

Chorus. -- Joy to the world, a Savior reigns,

Let men their tongues employ,

While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and vales

Repeat the sounding joy.