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N. .^, christm/as story f^m elinjore/cowan %pu The voices of the boy choir rose above the rich roll of the organ aa . John opened the door and slipped in- -to the warm, shadowy depths of the church â€" piercing' high and sweet: Holy night! The stars are brightly shining â€" What was it the music made him , think of? Of course â€" the buoyant flight of a breath-takingly beautiful silver plane, lifting, dipping, soaring. And nothing could be more beauti- ful tljan that. It was cozy and pleasant to sit here making pictures :n your mind. But that wasn't the only reason John liked to come. He liked the music. What was more, he thought a little gruiltily, ho liked it because it was Christmas i.iusic. Of course he knew now that it was nothing but a bourgeois fairy story â€" about the little Lord Jesus and the Star and the strange magnificent kings with their rich gifts of gems and myrrh and frankincense, .\nton had explained ail that to him. If Anton knew he came hero he would be hurt and angry, even though he only slipped in after delivering his papers for a warm place to stay till Anton came from the lunch room where he waited table from early morning till five. Anton disliked all churches w>h a bitterness that John only vaguely understood, but which, out of his adoration for this moody, tempestuous, but to him always gen- tle big brother, he loyally tried to emri.re. For this particular church, An; . . had a specially contemptuous name. Ho called it "old Spencer Mor- row's fire escape." When John asked him why. Anton's mouth twlbted in that bitter, angry way it had lately as he replied, ''Be- cause the old pirate is fool enough to imagine the fortune he put into building that monument to supersti- tion will save the mean, grasping little thing he calls his soul from the mythical place he calls hell." When He IMayed The Violin John hadn't asked any more ques- tions, because if Anton got too much excited he would go on talking for hours instead of taking out his vio- lin, tucking it tenderly under his chin, and playing there in their little room as only Anton could play. And Anton must keep up his prac- tice, because any day someone might send for him again to come and play, as they used to do before hard times. Then Anton would get out the black suit with tails he kept so carefully packed av«y, and his white shirt, and go off down the street, his slim, beautiful^ fingers caressing the in- strument under his arm. Sometimes he took John with him. On such occasions. John would have to hold his breath and grip the seat tightly to keep from bursting with excitement when Anton came forward â€" lithe and dark and hand- someâ€"lifted his head, and began to play, his face a little pale, his dark eyes alight, as if above the heads of the audience he were seeing things slianpre and beautiful beyond the or- dinary ken- . . . When -Anton played his vio- In, ho seemed to forget all about ''monuments to superstition" and even "the totalitarian stale." â- ^ It was only since Anton had had to work in the linch room instead of playing that he had been so rest- less anil bittiT. It had all been very difCerent two jvars ago. while Mother was still alive. Then, on t^hristmas Eve, there would bo wreaths in the windows, and candles everywhere; and when Anton came in .'â- â- .om playing .some- whereâ€" a little pale, and with that wide, shining look his dark eyes al- ways wore when ho had played and played well, of having come slowly back from far pla.es of enchantment â€" there would be cries of ''Merry Christma.s." and surprises for every- one- Afterward, Anton would play Christmas musicâ€" ending always with "O Holy Night!" For a moment John remembered it allâ€" the brightness, the warmth, the spicy evergreen smells, the music- - and the surprisesâ€" with a wistful nostalgia which brought to his eyes tears he angrily wiped away on his worn coat sleoves. No Surprise Expected Well, there wouldn't be any sur- prises this year. liMt rwtr h« h«d boucht Anted • surprise with some of his paper mon- ey â€" a truly splendid scarf pin in the shape of a tiny violin. That was when Anton had explained to him for the first time about the prole- tariat, and had talked about the nec- e.ssity for ''class loyalty,'' and the gross a'osurdity of "bourgeois senti- mentality" about religion and Christ- mas. No, John did not think he would try surprising Anton again this year. And he knew this time that there would be no surprise for him, either. So he had made his own plan. It would not be quite the same as be- ing surprised, of course. It would lack tliat breath-taking moment of almost unendurable happiness and suspense that came just before the gift was actually unwrapped. But the plan had its points. The money he had managed to save from his paper route would buy the tools he needed to finish the model airplane he had been working on since last summer. It would be the most beautiful model ever built, and it wou-d really fly. His finsrersâ€" no less magically supple and sensitive in iheir own way than .-Anton's, though John did not know thisâ€" itched to be at it- He would waic till the day before Christmas, carry his parcel home, and put it away unopened until Christmas Eve. Then, when Anton had gone, he would got it out and open it just as if it had been a real surprise. He was still planning hap- pily and jingling his money in his pocket as He left the churc^ and turned through the park, when ho saw the old man again. Park Bench Sitters The old man was sitting huddled on one of the iron ben'Jies in the park. His hat had slid off, the book he inevitably carried had slid from his grasp to the dead leaves at his feet, and his head drooped on his breast, its silky white hair fluttering in the faint breeze. John saw that he was asleep again. It was the old man's deplorable habit of dropping to sleep at the most in- opportune times that had first caught John's attention. Park benches, John knew from shrewd observation, were not spots to sleep on with impunity. Yet the first time he had come upon the old man he had been serenely nodding while a ratlikc youth expertly rifled his pockets. At the sound of John's feet on the gravel, the old man had awakened with startling suddenness, and the pickpocket had fled. J.^hn was just about to lift a shrill cry for Larry. t"ho park cop, when the old man caught his arm with a swift dart of a thin old hand an.i said. ''Hey, son, lot him go! He's welcome to anything he found i" my pockets. Don't bring that confounded officer over here asking questions. Can't a man shut his eyes in peace for a minute with- out getting mixed up with the law?" John considered this wisely. Child of the street as he had been these two years, it was not strar.ge to his philosophy that paik bench sitters often shrank modestly fi'^"" the at- tention of Larry. It did seem a little strange that such a clean, g-uileless looking old gentleman should be at odds with the law, but you never coud tell. A Situation Grasped Uis suspicions were still further conEiriiied by an incident that oc- curred while h.' was talkin.u' wiih the old mart several days later. They were sitting together v.iion, in the nv 1st of a .sentence. Ihe oil man glanced over his shoulder, start- ed, s.-ramblod to his feet, and with a finger warningiy at his lips, sfur- vied into the bush.s that flanked ihe bene!'. . A nr.ui was hurrying down the walk from the avenue, looking sharp- ly from left to right, John made his eyes very blank as the man ap- proached. "FLive you," asked the man, ''.=i » an old gentleman about here? II ' been wearing a gray overcoat ai.d carrying a book." ''Sure, Mack. 'Bout 20 minutes ago. He took the Seventy-Three car, going south." .lohn lied hardily- "liave you â€" does he come here of- ten?" ''Naw,'' .said John. "And I'm around here every day selliii' my papers. He was â€" was just wallcin' by." When the man had disappeared, the old gentleman emerged cautious- ly from the bushes. "Well," he said, and there was a friendly twinkle in his old blue eyes. "I guess we disposed of that busy- body. Son, you show an aptness at gTa?.p:ng a situation and a finesse in action that should take you far." "Dcnl Believe In Christmas" Now, when John saw the nodding old figure on the bench, he felt a troubled sense of responsibility, as he so often did in the case of .\nton. "Say, listen, Gramps," he began as the old man started awake at his touch, blinked, and smiled up at him a little vaguely, "ain't I told you it ain't safe to go to .<ileop here? Look what happened the fir't time. Any- how, it's too cold." It was indeed cold. The first real frost of a late season was in the air and a few feathery flakes of snow were drifting down. "Say." offered John, moving a step nearer, "I know a good place if you want one. It's warm in that church over there. I'll bet you could slip in and stay, and nobody would ever know. There are cushions too, t»nd sometimes there's music." ".\h:" said Gramps, and turned to view the church with sudden interest. "Now that's an idea! Put old Mor- row's fire escape to a practical pur- pose, eh? Good joke on him!" For by this time, of course, the old man knew all about Anton and the international brotherhood of man. As John turned away, Gramps has- tily added, as if he could not bear to be left alone. "Hey! You're not going, are you?" John hesitated. jin;,'ling hv- money. 'â- You sound like a bloated c;in:',al- is!." observed Gramps. â-  lost five dollars,'' admitted John w t.. a glow of pride. "And it v.i'l be live by to-mono.v night." "Imagine having that much money in one pocket." Gramps sighed. "I wonder if I'll ever feel that rich again. And I suppose you're planning to spend it all for Christ ; -.is pre- sents." "Heck! We don't believe in Christ- mas at our house.'' John tried to speak with a calm superiority, as a good comrade should; but he choked up a little over the words. Has Fo Be Shared ''No Christmas â€" but of course! The observation of the Christmas myth is the lowest form of bour- geois sentimentality, isn't it? And yot, unless my memory fai's .me. Christ was a carpenter, and lie als( bcli'n-ed in the brotherhood of man.'' J.)hn v.'onsi<lered this in startled silence. He wondered if Ant iti knew that- "Thcn wliat, if you'll foiaive my curiosity." asked Gramps, "a:-o you going to do wit'i all that wealth?" So John told him, a little roluttaat- ly, aijout the tools. The old man list- ened attentively. They had often talk- ed of the model before. Gramps knew a lot about planes, for an old man. "No doubt your decision is a sen- s.lde one," Gramps said slowly when he h:iil fini.<hod. His voice sounded suddcn'y tired and flat. "Certainly there's no bourgeois sentimentality about it. Your brother should be proud of you â€" and after all, not be- lieving in Chrjsiiiuis can't be a more forlorn business than not having anyone who really cares foi' you to share it with. To be real!'' Christmas has to be shareii. . . Well. I must be getting along, and â€" " he smiled a wry little smile â€" "I think I shall take your very pract'cal advice" John watched him as he made his way a little stiffly across the park to tho church, one of his shabby old books clutched under his arm, look- 'nt: very old and tired and lonely. h\ \ Back Pew John found Anton already at homo, aiv.ously inspecting the fine black suit with tails that had hung so long unused. At last, it seemed, Anton was going out to play his violin again. A note had come to the res- taurant that day. It was to be at som;'i ne's house, on Christmas Eve, and he was to have $50 for it. Anton was so happy that he was almost in- coherent. The next day was clear and bright; but a heavy snow mantled the ground and the trees bore nodding white pliiines. It was too cold to linger in the park, but when John slipped into the church, he saw the old man, sit- ting there in a back pew, listening to the music. John was glad they hadn't thrown him out. He looke<l bo sad. however, as if he were thinking unhappy thoughts deep within himself, that John did not approach him, bit slip- ped out again into the snow. And as he went, hi;; hand involuntar.ly clutched at the precious money in his pocket as if he felt it slipping away from him . For somehow, as he remembered that quiet old figure in the church, disturbing echoes of words crowutd in upon him: "Christmas can't be happy unless it's shared." And the old man had no one who cared, to share Christmas with him. That meant that there would be no sur- prise for Gramps, eilher. And prob- ably Gramps still liked surprises as well as any;>ne. Gay Parcel John fingered the money in his pocket and swallowed a monumental lump in his throat. Well, suppose he did buy the old man a surprise, what .should he choose? How could he possibly gutss what Cramps really wanted, unless â€" but of CDurse! X new book, a beau- tiful new book, so that he needn't carry a''ound those shabby old ones any more. John liidn't know mu.;h a'oout books, ''Ut after he ha 1 wandered about the book store, looking at cov- ers until he was dizzy, ho saw just the thing â€" a fine I.i^ book, richly bound in soft red.lish leather with gold letters. "That one,'' ho said. p. iritiug. It was expensive â€" .>">, tile salesgirl rointe.i out. He couUi get the same look in a differont ili:lo:n^J. much thoa;ior. "Thai one." said John fii:i;iy. an-l hurri-d out with -.'tw '..'â- anr'i.d ',â- .•-!; undor his :' n boi" :iv I'.e sivuld ihanze h's ind- He went tlrtotiy back to the church because h." was airaid he might miss GraniDs if he waited till tonior-.ow. Fortunately the old man was still there, hi'' white head drop- -od on his chest. He woke instantly .vhon John touched his shoulder. "This is for you.'' said John, hold- inT out his parcel, a little brratbiess â- ,v th hurry an 1 onil.arrassmenL. "But it's a surprise, and you musn't open it till Christmas Eve." For a moment Gramps loo'Ked up ut him as if hardly believing his ears. Then he took tho parcel with i;he gay rivt and green ribbon the lady had wrapped it in. an<l looked at it. "Tliank you." he said at last- "Thank you. I â€" this is a surprise. You have made me very happy. I â€" I wonder if you will do sonu^hing to mike an old man even happier â€" spend a part of toniorow evening with me. We â€" we might have a snack to oat and manasre a very plea- sant time of it together." "It's Christmas Eve" .A.nton had already gone when John went out next evening. John was sur- pri-sefl when he found that the house at the address Gramps had given was so large and imposing- Gramps couldn't really live h^re But periiaps he was a janitor or ssmethinj; and lived behind. John rang the boll. It was some time before anyoi.e uiswered. John was about to g.-i away when tho door opened and a man turned on an overhead light and said, "Oh. yes. You are to come right in.'' .Ii'hn. who had a street .A.rab's traincil nien'iry for faces, stared - But this was the man Gramps had run away from in the park. Then, •ight behind the man, was Gramps himself, smiling and hokiing out his hand . "Oh. but, sir." cried the man. turn- ing leiM-oachingiy. "you shouldn't be ont here exposing yourself to tiie ni;rht air." "Don't be an old m;;id. Ho<lges. It's Christmas Eve." Gramps didn't seem to be at all afraid now. "Aren't you satisfieil wiih hounding me all the year long? Come in. comrade." They went through a warm hall- way into a great bright room whcio men were sitting an.l standing ab'^ul. .\t once John felt at home, for they were all shabby nun snch a.s he Iiail often seen lined up outsid- smip k';- ohens cr emp'oynienl agencies nii n of all nat onalities and comploxi. :..-. but all strangely alike in their sulki:. beaten look. Now they uuin't lo >k sullen vv btalm, on'y expectant, aiui a little watchful perhaps. In a few mlnut^-'S there was di :: v for everyone â€" an amazing dinner â€" with Gramps, in a rather rumpled suit, at the head of the long table, and to John's complete undoi.g. .An- ton, of all people, sitting at his right. After everyone had eaten enorm- ously, they went into another great room, and there were surprises for everyone from a tall, softly I'ghto.l tree. John had to pinch himself to believe that his own surprise was a set of delicate tools such as he had wanted with a longir:^ that hurt, bu'. finer than he had ever hoped to have. Christmas Facts During ';'.:i'c2«peare's T .--.o Fect'- vities Lr.'Azd for Twelve Days Christn:io has not always be :. a season for festivity, and wiie:i Oliver Cromwell was Protector all fun and feasting was forbidden at this time of the year. There are a great many other things about Christmas which people do r.ot know; the fact, for instance, that Norwegian farmers give tiieir cattle tubs of home-brewed ale on Christmas Eve, or that at 12 mid- night on the same day people in Madrid eat 12 grapes for good luck in tho coining year. In Hungary they confider the needy, and all the richer citi ens are levied so that the poor me.: liu e sufficient to eat and drink. .V many know that there are 17t> different kinds of holly, that during Shakespeare's time Christmas festivities lasted for 12 days, or that Christmas has been celebrated on more than 100 different days in vari- ous parts of the world? Our pres- ent holiday on December 2.5th we owe to Pope Julius I, who fixed the date in the year ."5.31. Smallest Churches Accommodate Six A ch.:rch in Guernsey, Channel Islands, has accommodation for six people, and is claimed to be the -smallest in the world. It was built by a monk from stones, sea-sheils, and home-made cement. But it has some strong rivals. Hod-r" End Church, in Hanipsh.iro, tin:.:'., holds only eight people and \v;is b';ih as a form of memorial to those wh ) fell in the Great War. Haikney, London, has a church, attached to some almhouses, v.hich ran o'.ly acconMvodate a congreea- tioii of 11; while the villa'je of Grove in Kuciunghanishire. has a church biiiit for the benefit I'f the Ifi in- habitants. .At Mldon, Hants, wh'.h has only :'ine inhabitants, the church has but uno door, and, it is claimed, the -imallost font in Englaml. The Gnat Surprise Finally Gramps, whom everyone was calling ''Mr. Mo took down the last parcel â€" square and bulky â€" and said. "Now this is my groat sur- prise.'' John recognize*! it by the rilib.ni. It was the book. His heart sank, for there were rows and rov.-s of b.>ol:s about the room â€" some even more shabiiy than the one Gramps had carried, in a special case, careriiily lo-ked up. .And h'.' had givon the old man a book. But Gramps' hand was on John's .'shoulder, and Gramps was saying heartily. 'Why, I never in n-y life had one as fine as this!" For the first time John remomber- ed that in his haste yesterday h.> hadn't ev.'n looked at the title. N'W he craned his il'rk to read it. Tlie book was called "The Holy Biblo." Th(.n ovoiyono sat down, an.! .Ant >n tucked his violin under his chin and played -German music, Italian masio. Russian. Polksh. and Hur.'-ar an music, and an Irish love si ;i": - something for everybody. And as he played, the faces â€" Polish, Irish. l'..'l- ian. German, and Hungarian â€" wire no lonij;ei even walchful. but soft ,'.nd kind of shining. \\'l'.en Anton had played a loni; time, he stopped and said t.> tiio .jM man, "Now I th'nk we'll have a lit!';- real Christmas music.'' lie loo'r.ed at John for n nioni-.'nt. and .-Vnti/n's face. too. was si', a.-i all shining as he began to p'uy "'O I'oly Night!" Netherlands Had "Elarly Christmas" Nieht of Dec. 5th Wa* Observed As St. Nicholas Festival In Holland AMSTERDA.Mâ€" St. Nicholas paid a visit to good little children of The Netherlands on St. Nicholas' Eve. With his Negro servant. Black Pete, the saint appeared astride his white hor.se, as is the custom of every Dec. 5. At twilight, all the family are at homo. The doorbell rings, and there are St. Nicholas and Black Pete. The r.iaiwelously informed saint" ques- tions each child on his behavior, and presents are given to the whole fam- ily. Goes Back To A.D. 345 There follow servings of "Bishop wine' ior adults, chocolate milk for children. St. Nicholas songs are sung until late. This "Early Christmas" goes back to December 6th, the year 345, when the Archbishop of Myra (St. Nich- olas) died after being imprisoned by Diocletian and freed by Constan- tine. The prelate's surreptitious be- stowal oi dowries on three daugh- ters of an impoverished citizen sup- posedly started the custom of pres- ents on St. Nicholas' Eve â€" a custom later transferred to Christmas Day in many countries. Once the Hollanders tried to abol- i-sh St. Nicholas' Day in favor of Christmas, but St. Nick and Black Pete v.ere ea.sy winners. Glove Pledges You may be unaware of it, but if this Christmas you send a pair of gloves as a present, you are making a .symbolic gesture. In ancient times gloves v.ere sent to mend broken ties, patch iiuarrels and cement friend- ships. They were supposed to repre- sent tne handshake of friendship; in the jlidd e .Ages they were used as pledires of faith, and a king's glove >vas a i;ua;-antee of sa.''e conduct in his territory. Queer thousrh it may seom, gloves Were not first worn in cold countries, i'ut in Kgypt. wheio many fashions originated. The oldest pair in exist- ence was f.oin i in the box of royal robes i:\ King Tutankhamen'^ tomb. It V as :iot until the elevtrth century that iv.ropu adopted the fashion, and in t'.,' thirteenth century the gloverj of Per h found"d the. r "famous com- pany. Scnta Claus oses Pair of Reindeer .Santa Clajs was anything but jolly â€" and all because of his rein- (loir. Just before what was to have been Santa's triumphal entry into Bluff* ton. Indiana, one of his four reindeer broke a leg in trj-ing to escape from a ham to the snow-covered country- s de. Then a second deer broke away. Santa f.nally got the other two harnessed to his sloigh, the smile !nck on his face and was off down -Main St. in a cloud of snow to cheers and surprise of some 1.000 children, who thought he always drove fotir ri'indeor . Peasants Forecast Christmas Weather In soiue coimlry di tricts of France a oustoi:i is observed which \s sup- i; "S.-d ti> enable people? to forecast tne weathtr on Chr-stmas Day and lii.'ou^'hout the ccniiiig year. Twelve onions a:-e pl.T.-ed in a row and on lach is placed a dab of salt. If by Mni;)haMy the salt on any onion has i.K'Uid, then the month represented y that i:articului- onion will be wet. ir tiie salt on the twelfth onion is 'iry, then Christmas i'av. also, *ill i'o fi;:e. .\i Baux. in l'rovc:;co, shepherds iwld a Wat ii-night survr.e at which ih.-y pray for goo.l wur.her. Each :â- :• ives carrying a ligiited taper and I !an'..> and prays before a crib, a* â- i.ophords did L'.ooi) yc::"s ago. >â- *"*&>â-  'â- â- 'I'r^-*;