BY MARGARET W. HALL (AGE 14) (Honor Member) WHEN I was just a little girl, And ships on the deep, deep sea, Bright birds, and the trees in winter, And clouds sailing high and free. But that was a long, long time ago; And now I sit in the chair, An' tigers, an' lions, an' bears, An' battles, an' guns, an' pirates, An' circuses, an' fairs. An' grandma tells us stories From the pictures that we see; A CHRISTMAS STORY "OH, Hulda, think you that my lord will be home from the wars for the Yule-tide? The children cry for him; he has been away this twelvemonth." "Methinks, my lady, that he will come if he "THE FINISH" "THE FINISH" BY ELLEN DAY, AGE 11 finds it possible in any way," replied the faithful tire-woman to the Lady Dorinda. "But," she added, "we must remember that his enemies have well nigh surrounded the castle, hoping, doubtless, to waylay him as he returns. "My Lady Joyce and my young Lord Roderick, no doubt, miss their father, but they should have a merry Yule-season despite it, what with young Master John come to visit, and their beautiful new ponies. Methinks- The kind-hearted creature would no doubt have continued in her vain effort to cheer her mistress, had not Anne, the children's nurse, burst suddenly into the room. "Oh, my lady! pardon, but a peddler, huge and black, has come into the nursery through the little secret passage. He-he embraces the children!" Lady Dorinda rose, a tall, beautiful figure. "Call the guards thither," she commanded. Then, followed by the cringing Hulda, she walked to the nursery. A tall man, raggedly clothed, towered motionless above the children; little Lady Joyce clung, weeping, to her brother, who was bravely endeavoring to shield her; Master John cowered behind a chair. As the door opened, the man turned about. At sight of Lady Dorinda, he put his hand to his beard. "What means this, Sir Ped-Hugh!" And as the peddler removed his beard, my lady delightedly embraced her husband, the good Sir Hugh, who had crept among his enemies as a peddler, his bag full of toys for his children, and gowns and jewels for his wife. Came three kings and on the Baby And this Christmas-time recalling, Come the carols, rising, falling, Come the chimes, that tale-repeating A CHRISTMAS STORY MARY MARTIN was twelve years old when the war began. She was a light-hearted girl who always laughed. Her father, Joseph Martin, was a learned linquist, but he was his daughter's companion first. They were both in Serbia in August, 1914. Mary's Aunt Caroline was with them. Mr. Martin enlisted, while Mary, her aunt, and an old serving-woman fled to a deserted hut high up in the mountains. There they existed. Their nearest neighbor was twenty miles away. Once the old woman had gone down into the foot-hills, but brought back such tales of the suffering there, that all thought of leaving the hut was forgotten. On Christmas Day in 1918, the three had seen no other human being in fourteen months. Mary was no longer gay. Her brown eyes were sad and she had not laughed for years. About noon, a peasant stopped at the cabin with a letter for Mary! It read: Dearest Mary: Epinal, France. I was an Austrian prisoner; but through a lucky exchange, I am free. All fighting stopped yesterday. I am rather weak from prison life. It will be best for you to make your way down to Ragusa, on the Adriatic, where I will meet you. Carry no money with you; work or beg your way to the coast. This may not reach you for months or years, but I will spend the rest of my life in Ragusa, always waiting, always hoping, until you come. With all the love in this world, DAD. They all slipped to their knees as Mary finished, and offered a prayer. The next day they left, bestowing everything upon the bewildered peasant. Six months later they were all safely home, and Mary still says that letter made for her the happiest Christmas she ever will have. A CHRISTMAS STORY BY CHARLOTTE CHURCHILL (AGE 14) "I'LL get even with them!" growled Mr. Bear, as he walked along through the snow. "Just because I stole the bee's honey, and the squirrel's nuts, and pushed the hare into the water, is no reason why I should not be invited to the animals' Christmas tree. "There goes Mr. Dog, now, with a sled full of packages for the tree. Mr. Dog is to be their Santa Claus. Ah, I have an idea!" With that, Mr. Bear dashed out, pushed Mr. Dog into the snow, and made off with the sled full of "eats" and other presents. When he got out of the snow-drift Mr. Dog ran through the woods howling: "Help, help! Mr. Bear has carried off all our presents, and my son, Tipp, who was asleep on the sled under a blanket.' He was soon joined by many of his friends, and they set out to overtake the bear. Meanwhile, the thief hurried on. The jolting of the sled soon awoke Tipp. He might easily have escaped, but he wanted to save the presents. Suddenly a bright idea struck him. Cautiously he threw out a package, then another and another, until all were gone. "How invigorating this air is!" said Mr. Bear, "this load seems to get lighter as I go along." When he reached home, Mr. Bear went into the house, calling to his wife to come and see what he had brought for Christmas. Then Tipp slid from the sled and ran away. Very soon he came upon his father and a large party of friends who were following the trail of packages, and Tipp was considered a great hero for having saved the animals' Christmas presents. As for Mr. Bear, he never did know just what became of those presents. "THE FINISH." BY ALMA M. HOPKINS, AGE 16 LONG AGO BY ERMINIE HUNTRESS (AGE 14) As we hold our Christmas revels When a Baby in a manger With His happy parents near Him Yet so many do not know it, That great influence will fail; Of that life lived long ago. SPECIAL MENTION A list of those whose work would have been used had space permitted: PROSE Elizabeth E. Hughes Charlotte S. Salmon Patsy Woodhull Lillian E. Simrell Janet Forbes William Schaw Dorothy Bladin Helen B. Buchner Dee Morrison Margaret E. Clifford Isabelle T. Ellis Katharine M. Pinchard Eleanor E. Ashley Margaret Buddy Frances A. McCarthy Winifred Dysart Charlotte E. Farquhar Margaret White Dorothy Fox Marcella McGrane Elizabeth McLaren Margaret Thomas Jane B. Bradley Nancy W. Parker Alice Winston Virginia H. Chapman Catherine Denning Madelyn Kennedy Emily A. Smith Eleanor Scott Ena L. Hourwich Dorothy R. Burnett Virginia Seton Rachel L. Bent Angelica Gibbs Dorothy Chadwell VERSE Rae Verrill Jeanne Brun DRAWINGS PHOTOGRAPHS Catharine Dawson Lyle Westergren Thirza Metzner Leah Gordon Reed Harwood Neahouse Mary G. Wight Frances Michelson Mary Zacharias Sylvia D. Kleve Stockwell Johnson "A CHRISTMAS SURPRISE.' BY JOHN (SILVER BADGE) Rosemary W. Ball Margaret B. Oleson Whitehouse Hendrickson BY (SILVER BADGE) Dorothy A. Mohrenstecher McCaddon PHOTOGRAPHS PUZZLES, I WHAT THE LEAGUE IS THE ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE is an organization of the readers of the ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE. THE LEAGUE motto is "Live to learn and learn to live." THE LEAGUE emblem is the "Stars and Stripes." THE LEAGUE membership button bears the LEAGUE name and emblem. THE ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE organized in November, 1899, became immediately popular with earnest and enlightened young folks, and now is widely recognized as one of the great artistic educational factors in the life of American boys and girls. THE ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE awards gold and silver badges each month for the best original poems, stories, drawings, photographs, puzzles, and puzzle answers. PRIZE COMPETITION, No. 265 Competition No. 265 will close January 1. All contributions intended for it must be mailed on or before that date. Prize announcements will be made and the selected contributions published in ST. NICHOLAS for April. Badges sent one month later. Verse. To contain not more than twenty-four lines. Subject, "On Tireless Wings." or un Prose. Essay or story of not more than three hundred words. Subject, "When We Won." Photograph. Any size, mounted mounted; no blue prints or negatives. Young photographers need not print and develop their pictures themselves. Subject, "A Holiday Scene." Drawing. India ink, very black writing-ink, or wash. Subject, "Left Behind" or "A Heading for April." Puzzle. Must be accompanied by answer in full. Puzzle Answers. Best and neatest complete set of answers to puzzles in this issue of ST. NICHOLAS. Must be addressed to THE RIDDLE-Box. No unused contribution can be returned unless it is accompanied by a self-addressed and stamped envelop of proper size to hold the manuscript or picture. RULES ANY reader of ST. NICHOLAS, whether a subscriber or not, is entitled to League membership, and upon application a League badge and leaflet will be sent free. No League member who has reached the age of eighteen years may compete. Every contribution, of whatever kind, must bear the name, age, and address of the sender and be indorsed as "original" by parent, teacher, or guardian, who must be convinced beyond doubt-and must state in writing-that the contribution is not copied, but wholly the work and idea of the sender. If prose, the number of words should also be added. These notes must not be on a separate sheet, but on the contribution itself-if manuscript, on the upper margin; if a picture, on the margin or back. Write in ink on one side of the paper only. A contributor may send but one contribution a month-not one of each kind, but one only; this, however, does not include "competitions" in the advertising pages or "Answers to Puzzles." Address: The St. Nicholas League, 353 Fourth Avenue, New York. LIVE OAK, FLA. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have read a lot of interesting magazines, but none of them were as nice as you. I have only taken you for a little over a year; but I have grown to love you, and watch for you every month. Daddy said he took you when he was my age, and he, like many others, loved to read you, and enjoyed you as he never had any other magazine before. I think many people are the same way. In fact, I know they are. We live only eight miles from the famous Suwannee River. It is a black, black river, about forty feet deep, though in very rainy weather, it swells to about twice that depth. All along the banks of the river grow many kinds of trees, as cypress, cedar, pine, and oak. The trees are really the only things that make the river pretty, except the springs; and there are not many of them. One of your loving readers, MINNEAPOLIS, MINN. DEAR ST. NICK: I have enjoyed you so much that I consider it my duty to write and tell you. I just got back from France two months ago and am reading all the back numbers of ST. NICK, which a friend of mine kindly saved for me. My brother Jack and I have read you since we were very little. We are twins. I have twin brothers of eighteen, Harry and Bruce. They still like to read you. Daddy and Mother took you when they were little. Mother died when Jack and I were born, but Daddy and the big twins tell us about her. We were in Paris when the big Bertha was being sent over. We tried to get home, but it was impossible. We were visiting my grandmère. We were in Italy part of the time, trying to escape the war. Daddy was a soldier, and the big twins took care of us. Jack wanted to fight, too; he was just twelve. One night he ran away to join the war. Harry found him the next day and tried to explain to him why he could n't fight. Now he is reading "The Boy Vigilantes of Belgium," and says he could have been one too. Jack says to send his love to you and that he knows Harry and Bruce would, too, if they knew I was writing. Your devoted reader, JACQUILINE DU BOIS. BERLIN, GERMANY. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am an American girl, though I am now in Germany. This is my first trip abroad, and I am enjoying it very much. We sailed from New York June 1st and landed at Antwerp, Belgium, June 11th. Four days later we were in Berlin, and we have been here ever since. I think you and your readers would like to hear about my trip to Potsdam and back. We started by stage, and were driven to the station, where we took a train to Wildpark, a tiny place near Potsdam. Here a stage met us, and we were driven to a beautiful palace, the home of the last kaiser, and very, very beautiful. We were taken all through it. I never saw such beautiful furniture -gold and silver beds, tables and chairs, and tables of inlaid marble, etc.! The walls of many of the rooms were covered with beautiful tapestry, and the ceilings are quite indescribable. We were allowed to sit in the same chairs the emperors and empresses had sat in, and to touch the keys of the old-fashioned spinets. One room, especially, was most magnificent! It is called the Shell Room, and was used only on Christmas eves, and each member of the royal family had a tree. The walls are made up entirely of shells (some with large pearls in) and precious stones and metals, for example, gold, silver, quartz, marble, lapis-lazuli, malachite, crystal, and countless others. Just imagine the sight it must present at night, when the many chandeliers of mountain crystal are lighted, and the walls sparkle! We went through three palaces and a church, and came back in a yacht. I forgot to say that there were six of us Americans on the ride. My! but we were glad to see them!! Although I like Berlin very much, and as much of Europe as I have seen so far, I have yet to see any country which is in any way equal to "America, the Beautiful." I am greatly interested in the ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE and hope to win a badge some day. I am also interested in all your stories, especially "The Dragon's Secret," "The Luck of Denewood,” and "Kit, Pat, and a Few Boys." I always look forward to your coming with a great deal of pleasure, and (I must confess) sometimes, impatience. With best wishes for the greatest success and prosperity imaginable, which, I am sure, you will always have, I am, Your admiring reader, ANNE C. TERWILLIGER (AGE 14). COLFAX, ILL. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken you for nearly three years now, and I could never do without you. For two of these years I was ill, and you were always my companion. My brother and I think you are the best magazine published. We have taken all sorts of girls' and boys' magazines, so we know. I always read the LEAGUE first. I am interested in the STAMP PAGE, THE RIDDLE-BOX, THE WATCH TOWER, the poems-in fact, I am interested in everything. I read every number from cover to cover. I like "The Luck of Denewood," "Phantom Gold," and "Kit, Pat, and a Few Boys." Since I started taking you I have become interested in so many things that I was never interested in before drawing, writing, photography, and stamp-collecting. I don't think life is worth while unless you have some hobby-so I have several. I intend to take you until I 'm an old, old lady. Whenever any of my friends come to visit me and I ask them what they want to do, they always say: "Let's read ST. NICHOLAS!" Some of them borrow you to read. When school starts I'm going to ask my teacher to read you to my class every month, and maybe start a LEAGUE club. I hope she will.. Wishing you many years of prosperity, and many, many readers, I am Your devoted reader, ENID CORPE (AGE 13). |