# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1891_S47
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

The Lutheran Pioneer.

47

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The Christmas Tree.

_ In our picture we see a family gathered around
the Chrirtmas tree. This is a most beautiful
way of celebrating Christmas in the Christian
home. The green tree reminds us of the true
Tree of Life— Jesus Christ, the same yester-
day, and to-day, and forever.’’ The many
lights that give the tree a dazzling brightness,
call to our mind the words of our Saviour:
“Iam the Light of the world: he that followeth
me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have
the light of life.’? The candies and cakes, the
gilt apples and nuts, which adorn the Christmas
tree, and* the Christmas presents remind us of
the unspeakable gift of our dear
heavenly Father, who gave us His
own beloved Son as a Saviour and
through Him forgiveness of sins,
life and salvation. As we gather
around the Christmas tree let us
celebrate, not only a merry, but a
truly happy and blessed Christmas!

--_—»  -o-<e

Little Carl’s Christmas Eve.

“Come in!’’ shouted together the
host and hostess of a little German
wayside inn near the banks of the
Rhine. It was Christmas eve 200
years ago, anda stormy night. The
wind was raving round the little
inn, and the snow was falling fast,
obstructing the highway, blinding
the eyes of man and beast.

The ‘‘come in’’ of the host and
hostess was in answer to a loud,
hurried rap at the door, by which
there immediately entered two tray-
elers. One, by his military dress,
seemed a soldier, and the other
appeared to be his servant. This
was the case. A German General
was on his way to his home. He
had been delayed several hours by
the storm, and now found himself obliged to
stop for the night at this lonely and comfortless
little inn.

When the officer threw aside his plumed hat
and military cloak of rich fur, and strode up to
the fire, the gruff host was greatly impressed
with his importance, and willingly went out to
help the postillion in the care of the horses.
As for the old hostess, she bustled about with
wonderful activity to prepare supper for the

_ great man.

“Ho, Carl!’ she cried, ‘thou water-imp,
run to the wood for another bundle of fagots!””

At these strange, sharp words, a wild looking
boy started up from a dusky corner of the room,
where he had been lying with his head pillowed
on ® great tawny Swiss dog, and darted out of
the door. He was coarsely dressed and bare-
footed; yet there was something uncommon

about him—something familiar in his look,
which struck the traveler atrangely.

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“Is that your child?” he asked.

“No, indeed,’’ said the old dame; ‘‘I ama
poor woman, and have seen trouble in my time,
but I am not the mother of water-imps.””

“Why do you call the boy a water-imp?”’

“I call him so, your excellency, said the
woman, sinking her shrill voice into an awe-
struck tone, ‘‘because he came from the water,
and belongs to the water. He floated down
the Rhine in the great flood, four years ago
come spring, a mere baby, that could barely

chalet, in the night, amid thunder, lightning
and rain! Nowit is plain that no human child

could have lived through that. My good man

spied him in the morning early, and took him
off in his boat. I took him in pity; but I have
always been afraid of him, and every flood-time
I think the Rhine is coming for his own again.”

The traveler seemed deeply interested, and

well he might be; for in that very flood of
which the superstitious old dame spoke, his
only child, an infant boy, had been lost, with
his nurse, whose cottage on the river bank had
been swept away by night.

“Was the child alone on the roof of the

chalet?’ he asked in an agitated tone.

“Yes,” said the hostess, ‘‘all but an old dog,

who seemed to belong to him.”’

“That dog must have dragged him on to the

roof and saved him!” exclaimed the General;
‘tig he yet alive?”

‘Yes, just alive. He must be very old, for

he is almost stone blind and deaf. My good
man would have put him out of the way long
‘|ago, but for Carl—

“Show me the dog,” said the officer, with
authority.

“Here he lies, yourexcellency,” said the dame.

The General bent over the dog, touched him
gently, and shouted in his ear his old name of
“Leon”. The dog had not forgotten it; he
|knew that voice. With a plaintive, joyful cry
he sprang up to the breast of his old master,
nestled about blindly for his hands, and licked
|them unreproved; then sunk down as though

|faint with joy to his master's feet. The brave
tell his name, perched on the roof of a little}

soldier was overcome with emotion; tears fell
fast from his eyes. ‘‘Faithful creature,’ he
exclaimed, ‘‘you have saved my child, and

given him back to me.”

Just at this moment the door
opened, and little Carl appeared,
toiling up the steps with his arms
full of fagots, his cheerful face smil-
ing brave defiance to the winter
winds, and night and snow.

“Come hither, Carl,’’ said the
soldier. The boy flung down his
fagots and drew near.

“Dost thou know who I am?”

“Ah, no,—the good Christmas

. King, perhaps,’ said the little lad,
looking full of innocent wonder-
ment.

“Alas, poor child, how shouldst
thou remember me?’’ exclaimed
the General, sadly. Then clasping
him to his arms, he said, ‘“‘But I re-
member thee; thou art my boy, my
dear longlost boy! Look in my face;
embrace me; I am thy father!’

‘No, surely,’’ said the child,
sorely bewildered, ‘‘that can not
be, for they tell me the Rhine ig
my father.”

The soldier smiled through his
tears, and soon was able to convince
his little son that he had a better
father than the old river that had
carried him away from his tender
parents. He told him of a loving

mother who yet sorrowed for him, and of a blue-
eyed sister, who would rejoice when he came.
Carl listened, and wondered, and laughed, and
when he comprehended it all, slid from his
father’s arms and ran to embrace old Leon.

The next morning early the General, after
having generously rewarded the innkeeper and
his wife for having given a home, though a
poor one, to his little son, departed for home.
In his arms he carried Carl, carefully wrapped
in his warm fur cloak, and if sometimes the
little hare feet of the child were thrust out
from their covering, it was only to bury them
in the shaggy coat of old Leon, who lay snugly
curled up in the bottom of the carriage.

I will not attempt to tell you of the deep joy
of Carl’s mother, nor the wild delight of his
little sister, for I think such things are quite
beyond any one’s telling; but altogether it was
to all a Christmas time to thank God for, and
they did thank him.