Classic Christmas Stories (7 page)

by P. K. Devine

A
S I GAZED INTO the fire tonight watching the falling
embers of the Christmas fire my mind wanders back to the days of auld lang syne,
and one by one the faces of friends and acquaintances long dead and gone
appeared before my mental vision— “sweet dreamland faces passing to and fro
bring back the memories of days of long ago.” The great mysteries of life and
death grip my attention and my mind is appalled and humbled in the contemplation
of the eternal enigma which outside of Faith can never be solved on this side of
the grave. Our friends and acquaintances have crossed the borderland and gone
beyond the “borne whence no traveller returns.” They have uttered no word or
given no sign.

Man’s condition then would be abysmally pitiful were it not for the God-given
light of Faith. This is the predominate thought that comes to my mind as I look
into the fire, watch the glowing brands tonight and reflect on the meaning of
Christmas and how it draws millions of men and women throughout the world to
focus their best thoughts on the observance and celebration of the festival as
their forefathers did for the past 2,000 years and that our descendants will no
doubt continue to do till the “Heaven shall be rolled up as a finished scroll
and time shall be no more.”

The falling of a glowing log brings my mind down to the plane
of mundane things and a vision of the preparations that went on in this old City
of St. John’s in the old days is conjured up to my mind. A week or two before
the great festival the most indifferent observer would easily realize that the
joyous season of Christ’s Nativity was at hand. The decorations of the stores
and shops along Water St., Duckworth St. and New Gower St. were going on and the
work was being performed artistically by profound interveaving of green boughs,
dogberries, holly and mistletoe. There was in these days one well recognized
window dresser in every store on Water St. and these natural artists vied with
each other in their efforts to produce the most attractive and artistic display.
Sheets of white wadding were sacrificed and cut into suitable lengths and twined
on pillars and arches to represent the virgin snow. The display made up of these
materials was also shown in the windows was woven into such mottoes as “Welcome,
” “Happy Xmas, ” “Happy New Year, ” and “Christmas Greetings, ” and when the gas
was turned on at night the effect was beautiful.

The grocery store decorations were particularly profuse and attractive. The
floors were overlaid with clean white saw dust kept especially for the occasion.
Most of the dry goods stores had a life size figure of “Father Christmas, ”
while skates, sleds and sleigh bells were conspicuous in the hardware stores.
There was generally a well-beaten snow road in the city streets the week before
Christmas and the merry tinkling of the sleigh bells filled the air with echoes
of hope and promise. Hundreds of sleighs and slides drawn by ponies came into
town for Christmas shopping from nearby outports, their owners keen on things
for Christmas including suitable gifts for every member of the family.

The influence of the season was visible on all sides and greetings were hearty
and friendly. The bookstores of Chisholm, Fenelon, and McConnan were crowded
with customers all day long, buying Xmas cards and other gifts found in such
emporiums. It was no mere figure of speech to say that “Christmas was in the
air.” The pastry-cook shops such as Lash’s, Touissants, Foran’s, John B. Ayre
and Chancey and Heath’s all displayed plentiful and tempting supply of turkeys,
geese, chicken, as well as Christmas cakes and all hands were busy in filling
numerous orders for their customers.

The activity which increased as the days progressed reached its climax
on Christmas Eve. All the labourers working outside shops and
stores “knocked off” work on the wharves at mid-day to get ready for Christmas
except in cases where a vessel was being “rushed” in loading dry codfish for the
foreign market. Water St. was thronged all the afternoon with men, women and
children all exhaling the good will and joy of Christmas and greeting their
acquaintances with the time-honoured salutation of “I wish you a Merry
Christmas.” Every second man that one met carried a fine fat goose or a turkey
under his arm. In most cases a Christmas gift from his employer. If one wished
to see the biggest crowds he should go to the auction markets of Clift Wood
& Co., Dryer & Green, James Pitts and G. F. Bown. There as you draw near
you would hear the hearty voice of the auctioneer— “Any advance on—and then
going, going, gone!” This was the musical monotone that echoed along the street
as the quarters of beef, barrels of apples, turkeys, geese and chicken were
“knocked down” at ridiculously low prices. I see the crowd in Clift’s Cove now
joking and laughing as whole carcases of mutton are auctioned off at two pence
to four pence a pound.

All afternoon the labourers are out dressed in their holiday clothes, the
married men in many cases accompanied by their wives and children for whom they
are buying Xmas gifts. The fishermen dressed in their comfortable pilot-cloth
jackets are now spending their money freely buying things for Christmas. There
is a freedom and friendliness in their greetings that does one’s heart good to
recall even at this day. Unfortunately this neighbourly aspect of life has
changed and it is seldom now one will see the old-time greeting and warm hand
shake with the good old salutation “I wish you a Merry Christmas!” The giving of
substantial and useful presents was certainly more prevalent then in these
modern days when the gifts have in the main all run to expensive cards. The
merchants remembered all their old employees at Christmas and sent them home
happy with the gift of a goose, a turkey or a good joint of beef. There were
money presents too for clerks and office hands.

Aye, compared with the present times those were days of Arcadian happiness and
simplicity. As I gaze into the heart of the fire tonight the picture unfolds
with vividness akin to reality. I see the bustle increasing as the shades of
night begin to fall over the town and the stars shine out one by one. The air is
keen but invigorating at 5 below zero. The blood
races in
youthful veins and mantles rose-colour in the cheeks. There is snow falling,
coming down straight in the still air. The “blossoms” loom double size in the
gas light. A new white carpet is soon laid for the feet of the passing
thousands. The window panels are covered with frost of fantastic patterns,
rivalling the most exquisite lace work. The breath of the horses ascends in
visible shafts of white vapour and sleigh-bells are making merry music on all
sides. There is a mad rush on the part of porters and drivers to deliver all the
purchased goods at the homes of the people before midnight.

Merchants’ pairs are out fully caparisoned and the double seat sleighs highly
polished shine in the gas light. Rich furs hang over the backs of the vehicles
and the coachmen are garbed in black or blue coats, lavender pants and heavy
formidable fur turbans, over all the black fur coats and tippets rich enough for
a Russian Count. Jingle, jangle, jingle, jangle—there go the bells in discordant
concert as the high stepping pairs pass each other on Water Street. Here they
come! Philip Hutchings’, O’Dwyer’s, Mare’s, Edwin Duder’s, A. W. Harvey’s, Terry
Halleren’s, Bowring’s, Job’s, Wilson’s, Pitts’, Baine Grieve’s, Walter Grieve’s
and Governor Hill’s. Oh! They make a grand spectacle, the like of which could be
seen only in the Russian Capitol. The coachmen certainly played up their part
with their black furs and silver bands as they plied the whip from their exalted
seats.

The coachmen kept up the rivalry of their employers in having their horses and
sleighs in the best condition. Mr. Thomas Skinner who went into the business as
a mere boy is one of the few survivors of the latter days of that period. His
outfit in neatness and attractiveness was second to none and he certainly could
handle a whip. He got more than his share of the wedding parties when he bought
the grand brougham that was owned by one of our former Governors. Mingling with
the tinkling of his grand chime of sleigh bells I hear the slower and deeper
sound of the hand bells calling the people to come to the booths and take a
chance in a raffle on the wheel of fortune for a turkey, a goose or a Xmas cake.
“One more ticket to fill up! Three chances for a shilling! Come on ladies and
gentlemen!” The lotteries are going on at Beck’s Cove, McBride’s Hill,
Merchants’ Block, Adelaide St. and on the “Beach.” The spaces on the wheel of
fortune are laid out with the names of towns, animals and sealing steamers,
making the affair so much more popular and interesting.
When
the wheel stopped revolving at the named corresponding town on a ticket held by
someone the number was announced and the prize forthwith handed over to the
winner. I see the crowd surging forward with tense excitement on their faces
when the wheel is being set for a new revolution. They grab the tickets as fast
as they can be held out, each purchaser hoping to have better luck this
time.

The supply of poultry was bountiful in those days. It came from Prince Edward
Island in schooner loads to Clift Wood & Co. and James Pitt’s wharves. I see
the vessels lying at the landing piers two or three days before Christmas filled
to the hatches with poultry, carcases of mutton and quarters of beef, also oats,
potatoes, turnips and oysters in barrels. Oh, yes my friend, PEI gave us her
best products in the sixties and seventies. Nearly all well off citizens laid in
a barrel or two of oysters for the winter. The prices of fresh meats and poultry
were so low that all could afford to buy them. Imagine paying three or four
cents a pound for a quarter of beef! Christmas was indeed a grand time for even
the poor man to lay in cheap farm products for the winter. Potatoes five
shillings a barrel, turkeys four and sixpence, oats three shillings a bushel and
real butter from PEI and Antigonish nine pence a pound.

The crowds on the street gradually lessened after 11 o’clock at night. The
women, girls and children are gone home with their parcels to get ready for
tomorrow. The streets however are still thronged with men folk and with slides,
sleighs and catamarans whose drivers are piling up to take to the homes parcels
of “good things” for the Xmas time. Parcels! Parcels!! Parcels in every
direction. The conveyances once loaded are going with full speed from the stores
with their loaded festive goods to the people’s homes. The shops are open still
and are doing a brisk trade till mid-night. When the Cathedral bells fling out
their glad carillon over the town their iron tongues seeming to come as near to
the spoken word as inanimate nature can be—

“Gloria in Excelsis Deo,

Et in Terra pax hominibus voluntatis.”

I now see the bands coming, coming out to parade Water St., calling on friends
to serenade. The “Total Abstinence, ” the “Phoenix, ”
the
“Avalon” and the Scotch Pipers. They are all there in their uniforms making a
picturesque and spectacular display. The Anglican choir boy too are out singing
Xmas Carols through the streets. Nobody is in bed, the children half asleep and
half-awake waiting for the footsteps of Father Christmas on the roof. The homes
are lighted up with their best display of kerosene and gas.

As the last brand in the fire tumbles down and dies in ashes and the last clang
of the joy bells dies away I awake from reverie and thank God that in whatever
else my nature has become impaired and weakened that my faith is stronger than
ever in all that my youth was told and taught that Christmas means, and as I
rise to retire my soul goes forth in an ardent and natural inspiration to, join
in the grand Christian chorus of Faith, Hope and Charity that re-echoes round
the world tonight—

“Glory be to God on High

And Peace on Earth to men of good will.”