anaheim-daily-herald 1921-12-24

HERALD EDITORIALS THE FIRST CHRISTMAS One mile from Bethlehem is a little plain, in which under a grove of olives, stands the bare and neglected chapel known by the name of "The Angel To The Shepherd." It is built over the traditional site of the fields where, in the beautiful language of St. Luke—more exquisite than any idyl to Christian ears—"There were shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night, when lo the Angel of the Lord came upon them and the glory of the Lord shown round about them," and to these happy ones were uttered the good tidings of great joy, that unto them was born that day in the city of David a Saviour, which was Christ the Lord. The associations of our Lord's nativity were all of the humblest character, and the very scenery of the birth-place was connected with memories of poverty and toil. On that night, indeed, it seemed as though the heaven's must burst to disclose their radiant minstrelsies; and the stars, and the feeding sheep and the "light and sound in the darkness and stillness," and the rapture of faithful hearts, combine to furnish us with a picture painted in the colors of Heaven. But in the brief and thrilling verses of the evangelist we are not told that these angel songs were heard by any but the wakeful Shepherds who, in the chill dews of a winter night were guarding their flocks from the wolf and the robber, in fields where Ruth, their Saviour's ancestress, had gleaned sick at heart, amid the alien corn and David, the despised and youngest son of a numerous family had followed his flock. "And suddenly..." adds the sole evenalist But in the brief and thrilling verses of the evangelist we are not told that these angel songs were heard by any but the wakeful Shepherds who, in the chill dews of a winter night were guarding their flocks from the wolf and the robber, in fields where Ruth, their Saviour's ancestress, had gleaned sick at heart, amid the alien corn and David, the despised and youngest son of a numerous family had followed his flock. "And suddenly," adds the sole evangelist who has narrated the circumstances of that memorable night in which Jesus was born, into an indifferent world unconscious of its Deliverer, "There was with the Angel a multitude of the Heavenly host, praising God in the highest and on earth peace among men of good will." The birth of the Divinely inspired Jesus constitutes the most stupendous event in the world's history. It was the first Christmas 1921 years ago, the beginning of the Christian era. It signalized the inauguration cf a new gospel—the gospel of love—and its marvelous influence has spread throughout the world and has made it infinitely better, and will continue to do so until the final triumph. Jesus typified love, inspired love and lived in such a way that men and women saw that love was the only thing worth living for, that life had meaning only as it had love. And this is the imperishable tradition of Jesus: This is His divinity, This His universal plea, Here is One that loveth thee. What then is a true Christianity but the accurate reproduction of this spirit of love, the creation of lovable men and women, who attract and uplift all around them by the subtle fascination of the love that animates them? What is a Christian Church but a confraternity of such men and women? What is a Christian society but a society permeated with this spirit, and bringing all the things of life to its test? And what place have social superiorities and inferiorities; pride, scorn, or coldness; harsh theologies, breeding harsh tempers and infinite disputes;the egoism that wounds the humble, the strength that disregards the weak, the vanity that hurts the simple, in any company of men and women who dare to wear the name of such a Founder? It was as a Bridegroom Christ came, anointed with all the perfumes of a dedicated love, and until the last bitter hours of His rejection. He moved with such lyric joyousness across the earth, that life became festive in His presence. It is as a Bride the church exists on earth and hosts of heaven earth peace a Christmas the finest im elaborate pla friends, and o kindness. No searching ever homes of the p narrow and m The faults of c all our enemies hatreds are s mastide. The and that occu an empty cha one is gone fr Above a unless we soft nificance—its into the celebr Claus may be quests contain ected to him, b the goods, even a receiver. T ruptcy, and th pointment and and burdens th ogies, breeding harsh tempers and infinite disputes; the egotism that wounds the humble, the strength that disregards the weak, the vanity that hurts the simple, in any company of men and women who dare to wear the name of such a Founder? It was as a Bridegroom Christ came, anointed with all the perfumes of a dedicated love, and until the last bitter hours of His rejection. He moved with such lyric joyousness across the earth, that life became festive in His presence. It is as a Bride the church exists on earth, and if no festive smiles are awakened by its presence, and no gracious unsealing of the founts of love in hearts, then it is not Christ's Church, for He has passed elsewhere with another company to the marriage-feast, and His Church stands without, before a barred and darkened door. So, down through all the dusty years, throughout the sunshine of peace and the storms of war, the Festival of Christmas brings the same message—the same singing PIANO BESS L. BENNETT 114 So. Philadelphia St. Phone 131J Wednesday—Friday—Saturday Interviews By Appointment. A WELD THAT WILL HOLD CONNOR'S Welding and Brazing Works 182 Chestnut St. Phone 100-J KEEPING UP WITH THE JONESEE JUST FOUR MORE STORES AND ILL BE THROUGH WITH MY CHRISTMAS SHOPPING! Little Stories for Bedtime By THORNTON W. BURGESS (Copyright by J. O. Lloyd) OLD GRANNY FOX HAS A BAD DREAM Old Granny Fox was dreaming. Yes, sir, she was dreaming. There she lay curled up on the little knoll which, you know, is a sort of little hill, fast asleep and dreaming. The little knoll overlooked the Green Meadows, and it was a favorite napping place for Granny Fox. You see, jolly, round, bright Mr. Sun used to pour his warmest rays down right there so that it was a very comfortable place indeed. So when Granny was tired she often would slip over there for a little short nap and sun bath. This morning Granny was unusually tired. She had been out all the night before, and then before she could reach home Bowser the Hound had found her tracks, and, of course, she couldn't go home then because that would tell Bowser right where she lived. So she had led Bowser far away across the fields and through the woods, and then after a while she played a smart trick which mixed her tracks up so that Bowser could no longer follow them, and while he was sniffing and snuffing as he tried to find out with his wonderful nose where Granny Fox had gone to she trotted back through the Green Forest to the sunny knoll, and there she curled up to rest. And right away she fell asleep. Now Granny Fox, like most of the other little people of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest, sleeps with her ears wide open. Her eyes may be closed, but her ears are on guard, and at the least unusual sound open fly her eyes and she is all ready to run. If it wasn't for the way her sharp ears keep guard she wouldn't Distinguished Humorist Entertains Whole State Thousands of readers throughout the great state of California have chuckled with tear-wet eyes over the quaint humor of "George, Our Boy Reporter," which from its initial appearance in the ANAHEIM DAILY HERALD assumed a position of pre-eminence and still holds that position over all other features. Other newspapers, thirty-five of them, throughout this state and other states quickly. dare to take naps right in board d light. If ever you want to catch Fox asleep you must make the teeniest, weeniest noise. Now Old Granny Fox had no soon closed her eyes than she began dream, and the dream was a very b one. Yes, indeed, it was a very b You See, She Waa Staring Right In the Face of Farmer Brown's Boy and Into the Muzzle of His Dreadful Gun. dream. It seemed to Granny as if Bowser the Hound was smarter than she ever had known him to be before and not one of all the tricks she knew fooled him at all. He kept getting nearer and nearer and nearer, until it seemed as if his great voice sounded right at her very heels, and she was so tired that it didn't seem as if she could take another step. Now all this was a dream, you know, but dream sometimes seem very real, and this was the way it was with the Old Granny Fox. It seemed to her that Bowser's great jaws were just going to close on her to shake her to death. "Oh! Oh!" cried Granny and waked herself up. Her eyes twinkled. Thousands of readers throughout the great state of California have chuckled with tear-wet eyes over the quaint humor of "George, Our Boy Reporter," which from its initial appearance in the ANAHEIM DAILY HERALD assumed a position of pre-eminence and still holds that position over all other features. Other newspapers, thirty-five of them, throughout this state and other states quickly recognized the constructive spiritual value of Mr. Conklin's work and prevailed upon the gracious editor-humorist to supply the feature for their newspapers. Mr. Conklin has a wonderful personality. His heart is the shrine of loving-kindness toward children—toward all mankind. He counts his friends as legion. His mail is filled with letters from everywhere—letters thanking him for his refreshing inspiration—his clean, exquisite portrayal of sweet childhood. Mr. Conklin is now president and editor of the Glendale Press of Glendale, California, and is making a big success—building a splendid newspaper. The Herald wishes him and his wonderful, good wife a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. hosts of heaven—“Praising God in the highest and on earth peace among men of good will.” Christmastide stirs the tenderest memories, awakens the finest impulses of the heart and directs the mind to elaborate plans to make our loved ones, our old faithful friends, and our employees happier through acts of loving-kindness. Nor does this spirit stop there but goes about searching everywhere, and carrying cheer into the barren homes of the poor and unfortunate. Even habitually mean, narrow and miserly creatures grow bold in their kindness. The faults of our friends and acquaintances are forgotten, all our enemies are forgiven, all ill feeling, animosities, and hatreds are swept away by the Divine Genius of Christmastide. There is only one place where sorrow touches and that occurs where we sit down to the feast and find an empty chair, miss some beloved presence, perhaps someone is gone from here forever. Above all, Christmas belongs to the children and unless we soften and become as them we lose its full significance—its beautiful spiritual value. We must enter into the celebration with whole-hearted enthusiasm. Santa Claus may be staggered by some of the magnificent requests contained in the comically scribbled messages directed to him, but he must wake up, brace up and deliver the goods, even if it threatens to put him into the hands of a receiver. There are worse things to bear than bankruptcy, and that is to witness the inexpressible disappointment and unutterable sadness that seizes the souls and burdens the hearts of the “little ones” who have been Bowie the Hound was smarter than she ever had known him to be before and not one of all the tricks she knew, fooled him at all. He kept getting nearer and nearer and nearer, until it seemed as if his great voice sounded right at her very heels, and she was so tired that it didn’t seem as if she could take another step. Now all this was a dream, you know, but dreams sometimes seem very real, and this was the way it was with the Old Grammy Fox. It seemed to her that Bowser’s great jaws were just going to close on her to shake her to death. “Oh! Oh!” cried Granny and waked herself up. Her eyes flew open and she gave a great sigh of relief to find that her terrible fright was only a bad dream and that she was curled up right on the familiar old sunny knob. She smiled to think what a fright she had had, and then—well, then Old Granny Fox didn’t know whether she was awake or still dreaming. No, sir, for a minute she didn’t know whether what she saw was real or a part of that dreadful dream. You see, she was staring right straight into the face of Farmer Brown’s boy and into the muzzle of his dreadful gun. For just a few seconds she didn’t move. She couldn’t, because she was too frightened to. Then she knew that it was real and not a dream at all. Farmer Brown’s boy had been hiding behind some pine boughs close-by and for once in her life she had been caught napping. Poor Old Granny Fox! She hadn’t the least hope in the world. Farmer Brown’s boy had only to fire his dreadful gun and that would be the end of her. Next Story: What Farmer Brown’s Boy Did to Granny Fox. Between Ourselves By Della M. Stewart We are told that, in spite of disarmament conferences, search for new weapons of war goes on constantly among all nations. We must be prepared for emergencies, so they say. But there is one possibility which seemingly has evaded the searchers. It is poetry. One of the principals in a recent divorce case informed the court that he could have endured much, but when his wife would wake him up to read what he termed “affectionate” poetry to him, life became unbearable and he fled. It was torture to him. His statement seems plausible. Why not develop its germ of thought? We all know forms of verse which are torture to hear. It may be that an army of trod, hunry men would break ranks and run were the general of the opposing forces to advance under the white flag and sonrously read page after page of modern vers libre. Certain popular rhythms of sentiment could be depended on to produce nausea and taintness, ponderous verse would bring an overcoming draught. OSCAR THOMPSON CONKLIN WE SORT AND BECOME AS THEM WE LOSE ITS FULL SIGNIFICANCE—ITS BEAUTIFUL SPIRITUAL VALUE. WE MUST ENTER INTO THE CELEBRATION WITH WHOLE-HEARTED ENTHUSIASM. Santa Claus may be staggered by some of the magnificent requests contained in the comically scribbled messages directed to him, but he must wake up, brace up and deliver the goods, even if it threatens to put him into the hands of a receiver. There are worse things to bear than bankruptcy, and that is to witness the inexpressible disappointment and unutterable sadness that seizes the souls and burdens the hearts of the "little ones" who have been faithfully expecting Santa Claus, who for some reason has forgotten them and so passed into the chill mists of their memory. Let us make this Christmas the merriest one in the history of Anaheim for everybody, particularly the children. If you have no little children of your own look about you and you will find plenty of opportunities to challenge your good-heartedness or your charity. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethern, ye have done it unto me." WITH THE JONESES—Pa's Most Immediate Need. HEAVENS' I FORGOT ALL ABOUT IT! FORGOT WHAT? TO BUY A PRESENT FOR YOU! NE IS THERE ANYTHING IN PAR YOU HAVE IN KIND THAT YOU HERALD SUPSCRIPTION RATES One Month by Carrier... $ .65 One Year by Mall ... $4.00 One Month by Mall ... $ .40 Entered at the Postoffice at Anabeim, California, as second-class matter. George OUR BOY REPORTER Marry Christmuss to Harry Riley an Mister Renner an Mr. Falkenstein an Mister Ahlborn an Mister Judge Howard which is my best friend in the city what gets up in the nite time if you want to get marrid in a herry an Mister Steward whats manidger of the city an whats bin sick with grips an Mister Wallace also what takes your munney for lites an Mister Price an Mister Merritt what goes to Long Beach in the summer to see the mare mades on the beech sunshinin thare selfes an Mister Cheef Stedman an Mister Mayer Stary an Elva also Mister Horce Benjamin an Mister Thomas an Mister McCord an Mister Dolan an Elsalie Shellens an Margaret Kuehl wich is the nurse for the city an your baby when its sick also an Mister Louis Danz and Mrs. Danz also an Mister Harry Hathaway an Mrs. Hathaway an Mrs. Canby also whats stockin I got an Mrs. Thomas also an Miss Mayme Kemp ling wich is goin to be her daughter sum day pretty soon I gess an Mister Bill Goodrum what lost his shirt that time an Ray Goodcell the Chandler Cleveland boss an Mister Sid Prince an Geo. also an thare wifes an Mister Cohen what got robbed whats got the little baby an the little wife also an Oscar an Eddie an Walter Schneiders an thare wifes all sept Walter wich is two yung an Mister Hartfield an Mister Oscar Heying an his brother also an Mister Fraser up to the chamber of commerce an Norma Meckiss what lost $ twenty dollars wun time shoppin an Wilhelmina Zitttsman an Vera O'Rourke wich Mister Padden sed woodnt be a old made if he wus single whats Mrs. Ike Holes sister an Mister an Mrs. Ike Holes also an Mister Bud Holland an Mrs. Holland wich wus mad about the Jontel girls that time an Mister Renner what got robbed whats got the little baby an the little wife also an Oscar an Eddie an Walter Schneiders an thre wifes all sept Walter wich is two yung an Mister Hartfield an Mister Oscar Heying an his brother also an Mister Fraser up to the chamber of commerce an Norma Meckiss what lost $ twenty dollars wun time shoppin an Wilhelmina Zitttsman an Vera O'Rourke wich Mister Padden sed woodnt be a old made if he wus single whats Mrs. Ike Holes sister an Mister an Mrs. Ike Holes also an Mister Bud Holland an Mrs. Holland wich wus mad about the Jonteel girls that time an Mister Cissero Holland whats the wun whats got the groshry store an 2 babies an Mrs. Holland also an Mister Metcalf what makes apple pies an Mister Gates what sells flours to evrybuddy for thare weddin an funruls also an Mister Schmelzer an Mrs. Schmelzer an Ruth also wich is thare little girl wich the cheef calls his sweetheart but she aint cause he's jess prack tissin how to say it to sum bigger girls Mrs. Van sed an Mister Dunham an Mister Knipe an you dont say the k in his name cause its silunt he sed like the x in swimmin an Mister Otto Hammill what used to cood sing wunct an Doctor Geissinger what the minister doctor an Doctor Johnson an Doctor Wickett an Doctor Brastad whats wife is hed of the stars from the east an Mister Clare Russell wich used to go to school with the cheef's bruther's wife also an evrybuddy in the office an Mister Charlie Mann an Mrs. Mann also an evrybuddy what I aint got room for. We aint goin to have no paper Mundy so you better do all your reedin tomorrer. Marry Christmuss also to my teecher wich is the best teecher in the world whats Mattie Lou Robertson. jim dash Satiddy an pay day an when you get up in the mornin Sundy is Christmuss less you sleep two late like Mister Harry Riley dun wun time when he wus a boy an forgot about it bean Christmuss. I no whats the cheef goin to get me for Christmuss but g wiz I dont get cold in my hed much so I gess I will give them to my fother. Hanker-chiffs aint no fun. Miss Pember told me. jim dash Fare and warmer an Mister Kuchel calls Mister Tom Williams wich is wun of our operators string bean cause he is tall an thin. He sed wun time him an the cheef's bruther's wife whats got the red hare used to go to school to gether Mister Williams did an Mister Kuchel he sed is that so an Mister Williams sed yes an then Mister Kuchel he sed I didnt no you ever went to school enny wares. Nobuddy wus hurt. He is the wun wich they tried to rob but he didnt have nothin an when they tride to rob him he cum back an put his wotch in the safe. Our safe aint never locked nites but the cheef said evrybuddy aint sposed to no that en Mister Padden sed why dont you lock it an the cheef he sed well if I lock it an they bust it once life became unbearable was torture to him. it seems plausible develop its germ of all know forms of torture to hear. It army of tirod, hunbreak ranks and run al of the opposing face under the white misch read page after vers libre. Certain of sentiment could to produce nausea underous verse would ing drowsiness. This in might prove as and poison gas in oee. victory would be a need for ambulance Red, Cross nurses. no need for hospistly equipment. No s., barbed wire enostly barrage. The que one! Why not cent of convicts in e women. gether Mister Williams did an Mister Kuchel he sed is that so an Mister Williams sed yes an then Mister Kuchel he sed I didnt no you ever went to school enny wares. Nobuddy wus hurt. He is the wun wich they tried to rob but he didnt have nothin an when they tride to rob him he cum back an put his wutch in the safe. Our safe aint never locked nites but the cheef said evrybuddy aint sposed to no that en Mister Padden sed why dont you lock it an the cheef he sed well if I lock it an they bust it open with dynamite they wuud rune it so thats why I leave it open cause they aint nothin in it ennyhow. jim dash I aint got pade yet for this week but I gess the cheef will sine the check before he goes to supper I hope. I gess nobuddy wood sleep much tonite thinkin a bout whats in thare stockin. Mrs. Edith Taylor she give me wun of her'n an Mrs. Thomas she give me wun also but I got to give them back after Christmas. The both of them are black but I cood pick out Mrs. Taylor's easy. — thirty — —By POP MOMAND. YES WOMAN, A TAXICAB! POP MOMAND.