Dates and Celebrations

It was the winter wild While the Heav’n-born child All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies.

This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heav’n’s eternal King, Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That He our deadly forfeit should release, And with His Father work us a perpetual peace.

The firstling of the infant year.

It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow’d and so gracious is the time.

Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.

New Year's is a harmless annual institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls and humbug resolutions.

What ought to be done to the man who invented the celebrating of anniversaries? Mere killing would be too light.

The first of April is the day we remember what we are the other 364 days of the year.