Life — December 22, 1898 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

H, the Yule log snapped and sparkled Till the red flame quivered high, Bteeping wall and roof and rafter In its rich and vivid dye. And around the bowl of wassail Ran a soft, incessant chime— ’Twas the graybeards clinking glasses To the Joy of Christmas time. Oh, tho danco waxed mad and merry With tho light heels overhead, Hands across and down the middlo Went the gayly measured tread. Whilo “ Away with Melancholy!” Squeaked the flddies, and tho air Swopt a stir of revel o'er us As wo sat beneath tho stair. Oh, tho sweet and subtle magic That at work within tho heart Drow us tenderly together, Held us tremulous apart! Why, wo thought our lips wero touching Just for love—wo did not know It was all because above us Hung 4 bough of mistletoe, ME. W. An Enterprising Descendant. AR announcement that their son is bringing out the love letters of Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Brown- ing and promises to publish them all, without suppres- j » sions or excisions, affords a gratifying proof of the decay of certain antiquated sentimentalities concern- ing the right to privacy, and the indecency of exposing the intimacies of family relations tc public view. Time was when a man’s affections were his own affair, his personal letters were sacred, and an attempt to bring cither into pub- 529 -.licity was an insult which every member of his family would resent to the uttermost. But that has passed, and family letters, like family offices, have become a legitimate source of profit. It is also interesting as showing that cer- tain tendencies supposed to be peculiar to our country are fully developed elsewhere. The yellow journals have long preached the right of the public to every detail of every- body's life, but even they never went so far as Mr. Browning. It never occurred to Mr. Pulitzer to apply to Longfellow’s daughters for details of their father’s courtship, and Mr. Hearst has never persuaded Judge Holmes to publish a full account of the in- tercourse between the Autocrat and the Schoolmistress. They must look to their laurels, It was left for an outsidér to con- ceive the idea of a son’s making a good thing out of his mother’s love letters, A Regret of the Season. OW has my Christmas joy decreased, My feolings are not pleasant; For I find tho girl I lovo the least Bent me the nicest present. It Depends. ¢¢ DAPA, does the President always know just what he is going to do?” “Not always, my son. Sometimes Alger’s out of town,” Fst NEW YORKER: Did you note any points of resemblance between the Old World and the New, when you were abroad? Secoxp New Yorker: Well, Jerusalem and Ireland looked familar. Wy One Shade: Our WIFE SEEMS TO EXJOY HERSELF. comicbooks.com