Partially illegible…..the last thing on earth to be respected [is the] dignity of age. The above text was [….illegible…] on my mind, when a short [….] a company of lads, or perhaps [they thought] themselves young me, pupils [of Milton High School], coming along a street [……] school. The party was meeting [….] man, but apparently never noticed him; [they never] broke their ranks, and while the solid phalanx moved on, the old man was compelled [to step] into the gutter to let them pass. Shame! The pupils of the Negro school, in north Milton, have better manners and more respect for the aged! There are many young men in town whom I do not know by name, but this “gang”—if I may use the synonym—was, I think, mostly from the suburbs or outskirts of town. We do not blame the present school teachers for this condition of things existing in society. Possibly, their predecessors may have been guilty in omitting their duty of inculcating politeness on their pupils and the present corps have not been in position long enough to remedy the evil; if they really know it exists. But the fundamental cause of this boorishness on the part of big boys may be traced to the lack of proper home discipline. Go into the homes of any parents where the “big boy” is domineering and always in a bellicose attitude, never under control, and caring no more for the […] of the wind through the trees and you will find the boy who is boorish and unmannerly on the streets. There are such; and Tom Dawson is not the only one.
Three years ago on the northwest suburb of Milton was an extensive tract of timber known as “Hazzard’s Woods,” the […..], and the rabbit, and the home of the colored camp. Three years ago the wood [….] of this land was sold and the “woodman’s axe” for two years was heard [….] this lumber. A sawmill was placed upon the land, and the trees were converted into merchantable lumber to be used for many purposes. Teams and men were employed in carrying this lumber to the shipping points and the trains were utilized in its transportation to other parts. Now a part of those trees that were standing three years ago is in [….] “ploughing the raging main,” a part of it is in automobiles searching over the country. And the [….] cause of landing many of their customers in a penitentiary; a part of it has […] in smoke, and [….] in ashes; and a little, yet, remains to serve for fuel, the present winter. But what of the land from which this product was exported? The land has been cleared of the remaining undergrowth; the squirrels and the rabbits have been driven away and the colored campers have sought a more congenial place. The present year a part of the land brought forth an abundant crop of corn. There have been put our on the place 1800 peach and apple trees, and Mr. Spencer expects, by the last of March, to have out 5000 trees all counted. This property belongs to W. J. Chandler of Scranton, Pa., a grandson of the former owner. William A. Hazzard. The tenant of the farm, who has charge of this work, is Thomas Spencer, one of the best overseers and farmers in this locality. He has been in Mr. Chandler’s employ for many years and if he is not what we have just asserted him to be, he would not have held his position so long.
This communication will be launched upon the public upon the very anniversary of the day on which we celebrate the birth of He whom the angels announced to the Shepherds of Judea, came on earth to bring peace and goodwill to men. We cannot tell anything or suggest anything without making our statements anticipatory in regard to the coming festivities. Therefore we desists, at present and in another week we may have something worth communicating in regard to what was accomplished Christmas […..]
[Several paragraphs missing – torn newsprint]
Mr. and Mrs. D. F. Atkins have returned from a short visit to Lewes.
The electric lights have been put in the M. E. Church this week.—The result of the Ladies’ Aid Society Thanksgiving supper.
The Douglass White Shirt and Overall Factory will close on Thursday evening for the holidays.
George P. Walls, son of Mr. and Mrs. Fred Walls, died in lower Broadkiln on Saturday of diphtheria, aged 6 years, 5 months, and 22 days. The remains were buried on Sunday afternoon at Slaughter Neck Cemetery by S. J. Wilson & Son.
Everything appears to be ready now for Christmas; and this afternoon the atmosphere looks as though we are going to have some.
The Snowflakes on the sleeping earth their downy mantle fling,
While clanging through the frosty air the Christmas joy-bells ring.
It is the hour of eventide—the glowing fire burns low,
And in its depths fair pictures gleam of Christmas long ago.
“Dear faces that I see to-night have gone beyond the skies,
For them the joyous Christmas Day now dawns in Paradise.
But they seem to hover near me in the firelight’s fitful glow.
Sweet spirits of the Christmas time dear Christmas long ago.”[i]
Touch her off boys!
[i] Quotation from the poem Christmas Long Ago by Katherine L. Daniher. Not much has been written about her; she was probably born around 1867, the daughter of Irish immigrants, and her work of popular, sentimental poems was published in a fair number of newspapers and magazines around the country.