SYLVESTER-ABEND is one of the prettiest and brightest of German festivals and is almost as much enjoyed as Christmas Eve, but I do not know that any one has described it to American children.
It so happened a few years ago that I was spending the holidays in one of the pleasantest homes in one of the most beautiful towns of South Germany, and there I learned how this festival was kept.
The first of January being in that country St. Sylvester's Day, it is New Year's Eve which is celebrated as Sylvester Eve, or Abend.
"You will come into the drawing-room, after coffee, and see the Christmas-tree plundered," the Doctor's wife had said to me, smiling, at dinner; and all the children had clapped their hands and shouted, "Oh yes! the Christmas-tree plundered, huzza!"
There were more children around the Frau Doctor's table than you could easily count. Indeed, there were more than the long table could accommodate, and three or four had to be seated at the round "Cat's table" in the bow window. There were the two fair-haired little daughters of the house, their tall, twelve-year-old brother, two little Russian boys, three Americans, and another German, who boasts of being the godson of the Crown Prince; all these were studying under the direction of Monsieur P—— the French tutor. Besides, there were half a dozen older boys, who had come from all parts of the globe, England, Cuba, Chili, and where not, to study with the Herr Doctor himself, who is a learned German Professor. And since to-day was holiday—there was little Hugo, pet and baby, standing upon his mother's knee, clapping his hands and shouting with all his might "Me too! plunder Christmas-tree!"
"Why do you call it Sylvester Evening?" I asked the Frau Doctor.
"Because it is Sylvester evening; that is, to-day is dedicated to St. Sylvester, in the Romish Calendar. He was bishop of Rome in the time of the Emperor Constantine, I believe. But there is no connection between the saint's day and the tree-plundering. Still we always do it on Sylvester evening, and so, I think, do most people because it is a convenient time, as every one is sitting up to watch for the birth of the New Year. In some families, however, the tree is kept until Twelfth Night, and in yet others it is plundered the third or fourth day after Christmas."
"Is there any story about St. Sylvester?" asked Nicholas, the bright little Russian, always on the lookout for stories.
"More than one; but I have only time to tell you one which I think the prettiest. You are not to believe it, however.