A CHRISTMAS CONFLAGRATION.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 306, 28 December 1898, Page 3

A CHRISTMAS CONFLAGRATION.

Ten or twelve years ago, before the trade in Christmas trees had passed into the hands of dealers who procure their 'stock,' by contract, from the backwoods, it was often possible for two or three boys, by uniting in a venture of this kind, to earn a considerable sum of money. Even now this can be done in many villages and small cities.

In ISS3, when I was a schoolboy, the pi-ice of a family Christmas tree was 4/, and a large Sunday-school or hall tree was worth 20/, or even 25/. Two of my schoolmates and myself engaged in this Christmas tree business

for several seasons, and one year we cleared nearly £ 40.

Our method was to harness a span of horses to a sledge, on which was' set a long rack, or 'body,' used for harvesting hay and grain. With this we drove a distance of ten miles to a locality where there were several old pastures partially overgrown with small fir-trees of about the right size. Here we selected and cut what we pleased. We took great pains to choose pretty trees, and also to cut and transport them carefully, so that the fresh, crisp twigs might not be crushed or stripped of their foliage.

My youthful partners, Bert and Ben, became adepts in the business. All 'spindly' or thin trees were passed by, and only the thrifty, thick and darkgreen trees taken. These were then sawed off at a height of a foot from the ground, great care being used not to scar the trunks, or even to burst a 'blister' of the balsam on them. Bert, who had charge of the team, exercised equal care in packing the trees in tlie rack.

Indeed, it could not be called packing, for. he would never draw more than fifteen trees at, a load. Each tree Avas placed upright, and kept from swaying by cross-bars lashed athwart the rack. By using such precautions, we were able to deliver trees to our customers in the village well nigh as perfect as when they were growing. jSTot a twig was broken or rumpled.

We began to cut and transport our stock of trees to the village ten. or twelve days before Christmas, so that we might have them in readiness to sell on the 24th of December. For storing them meantime, we obtained the use of the. lower floor of an old woollen factory, of which Bert's father was part owner.

The mill had proved a profitless investment, and the looms and other machinery had been removed, so that an open space was left about 40 feet in length by 30 in width. In this lofty room we could stand our Christmas firs upright, as we brought them from the woods, and thus keep them uninjured till we were ready to take them out for inspection and sale on the 24th. . . '

For three seasons we had had a generous patronage, and were doing our best to deserve it, and to give our customers choice trees only; but this good fortune did not continue. The fourth season we encountered such a reverse as many business men will be able to understand. ■ ,

An energetic young grocer in our village, who had, watched our trade for a year or two, determined to west it from us. Accordingly, without allowing us suspect his intention, he engaged some lumbermen who were cutting timber in the woods fifteen miles from the villag-e to furnish him with three hundred little firs, at five cents apiece, ■ The trees Avere cut carelessly, and tied up with ropes in bundles of five. They were drawn to the village in two loads, packed together like herrings in a box, and arrived on the 23rd of December, late at night. ■ Early the next morning, as Ben and I were going to open our wareroom at the old factory, and set forth our trees for the people to see and select from, we heard the grocer McEntree's salesman shouting, as he drove through the streets of the village: 'Here's wher-e ye. git yer nice Christmas trees!. Only 1/3 apiece!'

In much astonishment and indignation, we hailed the man to look at his trees; but when we saw -what he was selling, we felt relieved, and laughed. 'All right!' Ben remarked to the grocer's salesman. 'You are not in our way. None of our customers will buy those things!' » ;

They were small firs of the lathy, spindling kind, and careless cutting and rough handling had left its mark on almost every one of them. The boughs were rumpled and bent where they had been lashed together in bundles; the bark of the trunks was grazed, and the blisters were Aveeping balsam. The pitch would be sure^fo soil the purchasers' hands, as well as the presents hung upon the trees.

'McEntree has several things to learn!' Ben exclaimed; and we then proceeded to set out our own beautiful stock, with a feeling of honest pride in the. contrast which we were sure everybody, must notice at first glance. We had confidence in the good taste of our.friends.

I am sorry to say this confidence was misplaced. McEntree knew the. pxiblic better than we did. His cheap trees sold with astonishing speed. He disposed of one hundred and sixty before noon. Not twenty persons came to see our handsome firs, and mere than half of those who did call simply smiled and walked away. At noon we had sold but nine trees, and most of those Were bought by our personal friends.

The superintendent of the Sunday school which we attended bought one large tree at 16/ for the evening entertainment; but even, he .intimated, that, trees could be had cheaper. Yet to bring that great tree, twenty feet in height, with branches spreading fifteen feet, to the village in perfect condition, we had made a special trip with our team, and used nearly an entire day. Finding by noon that we were likely to have our stock left on our hands, we harnessed our team and began peddling the trees, standing them upright in the rack, and- driving slowly through the streets. Bert went on a little in advance, and rang the bells at the doors of the houses to announce our coming; but it was too late. Everybody had purchased; and, indeed ', if we had driven along beside McEntree's waggon in the morning, we could not have stemmed the tide of his sudden popularity. Quite vainly Ben and I called attention to the contrast between his trees and ours; the public saw only the difference in price. True, there were seven or eight householders of the better class who perceived the excellence of our wares, and preferred to buy of us. , One or two, indeed, commended us heartily, and said they should continue to purchase of us; but they were only the scattered exceptions which proved the truth of a general rule, namely, that the public did not care greatly for quality, if only the price was low.

In a word, the lesson which, we learned that day was, that the average public desires bargains' rather than good quality; something cheap which will answer for the time, rather than excellence at a higher price.. %

I need hardly say that we were greatly disheartened and disgusted, and we did not bear "the reverse with entire good humour.

Hearing that our stock was left on our hands, McEntree, who boasted that he had cleared £15 on Christmas trees in three hours, sent around his man next day to say 'to us that he would take our trees off our hands at od each. Possibly he meant the offer in good faith, but we returned word to him that we would look out for our own stock, and advised him to mind his", own business.

As the trees were now wholly valueless, we should have scored a point on our rival to accept his offer promptly. In business, as in other matters, it is never profitable to lose one's temper; whereas self-control is a great help in keeping the 'main chance' constantly in view. But we were then too young and hasty to make McEntree pay for his fun in sending such a message to us. Instead, we carried the trees back into the empty room of'the .old'factory,. and stood them up in groves there; and it is at this point that my story begins. I remember that w # e bored holes with two-inch augers in large sticks of green four-foot w,ood, and having shaved down the butts of the firs, planted the trees in the holes, so that they would stand erect.«

There were trees enough to convert the great room, into a miniature forest, and here all the boys of the school played at camping in the woods. We marie little openings among the firs ana pitched small tents here and there, after the manner of campers and hunters.

At one time there were six different tents in as many different quarters of the room, each surrounded and con-, cealed from the others by: the thick grove of firs. Blankets, axes, guns, and, in short, full kits for camping were brought in. Squares of sheet iron were also procured and laid on bricks, placed on the floor; and upon these, as a foundation, little campfires' were kindled, over which coffee was made and bits of venison were fried. So many little fires warmed, the room, even in very cold weather;. and when the smoke grew too dense, we dropped the windows at the top and allowed'it to draw off. Occasionally the girls of the school were invited to come in to pass an evening. In fact, that old factory became a boy's paradise. We frequently slept in the tents over night to make the camping-out seem more realistic. It was great fun for us, of a morning to ; wake up there with the green trees all about us, kindle a fire, make coffee and prepare our breakfast after our own notions of what campers and hunters should do. «

, All night, too,- we sat about the camp-fires, and told stories and halloed through the woods from camp to camp.

Bert's father and two other owners of the old building* were inclined to object 4 to the use of fire there,' when they learned what was going on, and at one time, indeed, we were ordered to remove both trees and tents. The fun was, nevertheless, finally permitted to go on for a little time longer, but only on condition that Bert, Ben, and I should take it upon ourselves carefully to quench every fire before leaving the building.

The danger was supposed t6 threaten from brands or live ooals falling off the iron fire-beds upon the old, greasesoaked floor of the room. In reality, however, the peril lay in quite a different direction, and was not appreciated at the time, either by us or by our elders. What finally happened will serve as a hint and a warning to all others who may have charge of holiday decorations.

Mr boughs are very resinous. When fresh- from the forest they do not catch fire with extreme rapidity, but when they have become dry* as from six weeks' seasoning- in the warmth of a room indoors, the pitchy foliage ignites with a swiftness and a fierceness which may almost be described as explosive. On the evening of Waishington's birthday, the boys and girls of our school held a sort of evening reception in 'the woods,' as we called our fir forest in the old factory. Six little camp-fires were burning, near the tents aniong the trees; rustic tables were set near each, and a fine 'spread' of eatables was provided. .' We had as visitors, that night, eighteen or twenty young people from the high school in the adjoining town of Elverson, who had driven over on our invitation to visit us; for the fame of 'the woods' had gone abroad, and our camp had become an object, of much interest to young folks.' We conducted our visitors by a winding path, which was apparently a long one, through the firs, from camp to camp, where some of our boys were cooking, some playing on banjos, and some mending snow-shoes, cleaning their guns or pretending to dress game and fish. At each camp two or three of our callers were received as guests, and invited to participate in the festivities. Among the boys who had come over from Elverson was one George Manter, a somewhat 'swell' young fellow who quite evidently |wished us to, think that he was remarkably smart and a trifle 'fast.' • . I remember that at the camp where he was entertained, he told how skilfully he had outwitted the schoolmaster at Elverson; and by way of showing us what a very precocious youth we had for our guest, he presently drew a cigarette case from pocket, selected a cigarette absently, as he talked, and then struck a match upon the sole of his boot. As he raised the match to light .his cigarette, he accidentally touched the tip of a fir bough with it. Instantly there was a crackle'and a I roar! That cigarette was never smoked. In a second of time the fir top was in a blaze, and not only' that one, but those contiguous to it. Several of Us standing near seized blankets or overcoats and attempted to smother or beat out the flames; but the fire spread so rapidly that our efforts were useless. A mighty crackling arose; a thousand scintillations flashed forth on every side, and- carried the fire across the entire room and upward to the ceiling. The noise well nigh drowned the outcries of. alarm which it called forth. Those nearest the door turned and rushed headlong into the street. Those in the farther end of the building, beyond where the would-be smoker had stood, finding themselves cut off from the entrance, hastened in terror to the rear windows. , . Bert and Ben chanced to be with this part of the company, which showed remarkably good judgment» in throwing open two of the windows

and helping the girls to climb out. iTie room being on the ground floor, the girls coulddrbp to the ground outside; without danger. Bert, too, succeeded in pushing the firs on their movable wooden pedestals back ten or fifteen Jeet from the windows so that, although all the trees were soon on fire, and although hands, clothing, and faces were unpleasantly scorched, no one was seriously burned. The heat of the blazing boughs was so great, however, that before the fire department could take steps to ex- , tinguish the. flames, all the interior woodwork was ablaze. The old factory burned vto the grqund. As there was no insurance on the building, the associate owners, including Bert's father, were obliged to bear the loss without redress. But the incident proved a striking object lesson to all who saw it, of the dangers which may lurk in holiday decoraj tions. " • CHARLES ADAMS.