It is quite time, by-the-way, for us to begin the consideration of our Christmas presents in these bright days of late summer. By giving a little thought and time to the matter, paying attention to small wishes and wants which are spoken of in the family, we can often give our friends and ourselves much more pleasure than can be done when everything is left to the hurry of the last few weeks of the year. I heard a lady say the other evening, "I have at least six girl friends who knit beautifully, and I do wish one of them would make me a fascinator." "And pray what may a fascinator be?" said I. And I learned that it was simply a beautiful fleecy thing to wear upon the head in the evening. It used to be called a "cloud" when I was a girl; and in my girlish days I always kept one on hand to use up odd moments. It is pretty, dainty work. Bedroom slippers, crocheted and made up over lamb's-wool soles, are welcome gifts to receive, and not hard to make. May I add that a present is much more likely to give satisfaction to the recipient if it is beautifully wrapped up in tissue-paper and tied with dainty ribbon? I never derived more pleasure in my life than from a book which came to me one white cold Christmas eve. The book was daintily wrapped in white tissue-paper and tied with a white ribbon, which fastened on the cover of it one dewy, long-stemmed rose. A candle and candle-stick is a graceful and useful present. You know that one should always have a bedroom candle at night. It is a comfort to have it standing on a little table near the bed with a supply of matches. One never need then be in the dark a moment if a light happen to be necessary. I saw a very quaint and charming candle-stick the other day. It was in the shape of a monk with a cowl and robe, and he was patiently holding up a long crimson candle. Candles may be had in many colors, some of them very ornamental, and candle-sticks come in china, silver, and bronze, and sometimes very pretty ones in tin, though I do not recommend you to give a tin candle-stick as a present if you can afford one in another material.
Presents of one's own work are always very much appreciated, and there are many beautiful things in linen, such as doilies, centre-pieces, and the like, which are welcome additions to your mother's table, so that you cannot go wrong in choosing something in linen to embroider for her. A set of towels with a monogram in the corner makes a very tasteful gift, and I can imagine nothing lovelier than for a family of girls, or a class, to embroider a bed-spread for a mother or teacher. This, of course, would be a large undertaking, and should be begun many months before the time it is wanted, and you would have great fun in keeping the affair a secret. I saw a very beautiful bed-spread some weeks ago at a house where I was a guest. The lady who is making it has been engaged on it for years, and it is very elaborate—cream-colored linen of the finest texture, covered all over with beautiful vines and flowers. She has worked always from the flowers themselves, copying them faithfully in shape and tint.
When you are writing to me it would be very pleasant to have you tell me of beautiful Christmas gifts you intend to make. A girl in Maine might have a suggestion which would be acted upon by a girl in Nebraska. I will be extremely pleased to be the medium through which girls both North and South may give each other happy thoughts and charming suggestions about presents which are to be made for the next Christmas holidays. May I quote a bit from your letter, dear Tillie T.? It may give some of the girls an idea on which they may like to act. Tillie says: "With the help of two of my friends I am making a hospital box. Can you tell me some children's hospital to send it to? And is it a very childish thing to do? For we really enjoy making the things, as well as thinking of the pleasure they will give the children later. We have made cambric scrap-leaves, paper dolls with dresses of tissue-paper, a menagerie and circus of paper animals, and over sixty colored paper dolls—the sort which have dresses to come off."
Perhaps somebody can suggest an addition to Tillie's already generous list. St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children, West Thirty-fourth Street, New York city, will be very glad to receive any gifts which our readers would like to send to it.
The poor patient mules that drag the train-cars far down in the mines rarely enjoy the light of day. Sometimes intervals of years pass before they are brought to the surface, and far below in the dense darkness of the mines they toil from month to month, seeing no light other than that of the miners' flickering lamps.
Recently some mules that had for a number of years hauled the trains in the lower tunnel of a coal-mine were brought to the surface. The strong light of the sun dazzled them, and every one kept his eyes closed tightly, and when they were released in a pasture a little distance away they halted trembling and astonished, even fearing some harm. For a long time they remained so, occasionally opening their eyes half-way, and finally, towards sundown, they broke into joyous brays. Afterward they ran around, jumped, kicked, and rolled on the grass as if mad. The delight of freedom, the sun, and the pure air were more to them than the food they refused to eat when it was put before them.