THE GIPSY

Dominion, Volume 22, Issue 72, 18 December 1928, Page 13 (Supplement)

THE GIPSY

A legend told by the Basques, who live at the western end of the Pyrenees, explains the tolerance with which even the most ragged of the gipsy fraternity are received among them. When the King of the Jews, they say, learned of the birth of Jesus Our Lord, he was very wroth and ordered the massacre of every infant under two years of age. The Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, hearing of the cruel edict, prepared for flight. But on their way to safety they were compelled to pass through a town, and however hard they tried they could discover no way of hiding the Infant Jesus from the prying eyes and prodding spears of the soldiers whose duty it was to search all travellers.

Now, along their road followed a gipsy woman, 'who overheard their distress.

“Give the Child to me,” she said at length, “and I promise you He shall escape all the soldiers in the kingdom.”

Our Lady thanked the gipsy warmly and helped her to make Jesus comfortable in the big sack the woman carried over her shoulder. ' In due course all four arrived at the gates of the town. The Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph were permitted to enter without formality; but the gipsy the guard held up at the point of their swords.

“What do you hide in that sack, old hag?” they demanded. The gipsy smiled. “The most beautiful child in the world,” she answered.

Whereupon the soldiers ranged on either side of the gate prepared to arrest her; but their officer laughed aloud. “Were there indeed a child in that sack of yours, I wager you would keep quiet about it,” he said. “Go your way.”

And so Jesus passed by the soldiers and through the town to safety in the sack of the gipsy. In return for this service, declare the Basques, Almighty God allows all gipsies to steal five ha’-pennies a day. If they should steal more, it is the surplus only for which He will hold them responsible. —W. Branch Johnson, in the “Westminster Gazette.” A TRAGIC CHRISTMAS. 4 * * In the early centuries Christians suffered much from persecution, and were driven from place to place, yet they managed to find ways of celebrating the Nativity. As early as the year 303 the tyrant Diocletian, who in the early years of his reign had paid little attention to the coming and going of the Christians, suddenly ordered the temples to be burned while the birth of Christ was being celebrated, and twenty thousand Christians perished. When Constantine became the head ofthe Roman Empire, in 306, he showed a friendly feeling toward the Christians, and for the first time in many years they were able to celebrate the Nativity In public.

The Scotch minister rose and cleared his throat, but remained silent, while the congregation awaited the sermon in puzzled expectancy. At last be spoke: “There’s a laddie awa’ there in the gallery a-kissin’ a lassie,” he said. “When he’s done ah’ll begin.” * * • The young man crawled into the august presence. “I should like to speak to you on an important matter, sir,” he said. “Well, what is it?” growled the father of the girl, in no encouraging tone.

“I—l want to marry your daughter, sir!”

“What?” The old man’s face grew; purple. “Marry my daughter? I am astonished! What on earth do you mean, sir? You—” “Now, now,” soothed L.e youth, seeing defeat looming near and wanting to get some sort of satisfaction out of the interview, “don’t talk that way. you are prejudiced against the girl. She’s all right, really.”

Hulda’s mistress often boasts of her readiness of resource. “She’s the best nurse-maid in the world” is the enthusiastic commendation from her employer. “One day I returned from a motor-trip throu c ’i the park, to be met with the startling news that the baby had swallowed a button.

“ ‘And what did you do, Hulda?’ I asked, in some anxiety, although trusting that it had been the right thing. “ ‘Why,’ said Hulda, ‘I made him swallow a buttonhole right away!’ ”

Barefaced Junior —“Yes, I’m trying to raise a moustache and I’m wondering what colour it will be when it comes out.”

Miss Green—“ Grey. I should say, at the rate it appears to be growing.”

Mrs. Mullins: “What’s the matter, Mrs. Jones?

Mrs. Jones: “Why, this young rascal L..j swallowed a cartridge, and I can't thrash him for fear it goes off.”

She (frantically): “Jack! Baby’s swallowed the ink!” He (absently): “I suppose that means you want to borrow my fountain pen.” * * * It may be a wise child that knows its own father in the dark, but it's a wiser one that keeps it to himself when Santa Claus has just stepped on a tack in the dark. There are some young men even today who are so old fashioned that they hesitate because there isn’t any mistletoe there. * • • “Marriage is a lottery.” “Nr! exactly,” commented Miss Cayenne. “When you lose In a lottery it’s an easy matter to tear up the ticket and forget it.”