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Tag: christmas tale

Christmas Raffle for MacGugin's Pig

Published February 05, 2008        by Nicole

The snow lay sparkling on the ground, and all around was gay,'Twas a merry Xmas evening up in Placentia Bay. It seemed as if the world was there, the crowd it was so big, 'Twas pay a buck and try your luck for Sandy MacGugin's pig. An old time Xmas raffle, for a pig that was won by Cuff, Who bid good-bye, his time was nigh, he's bust on pork and duff. Sandy's wife cleared up for the dance, with a smile so sweet and big, Well she might, for I know that night she cleaned up on the pig.   The fiddler he was in good trim, he played loose though he was tight, His music made the tomcods waltz, near Sandy's stage that night, When the dancing began, girls all looked for a man, their toes in the floor they dig, For weeks they were sore, but they're longing for more, Like the night that they Read more

Old Christmas Customs in Newfoundland

Published January 16, 2008        by Nicole

Were holiday gifts always popular? What about in Newfoundland? Well the height of celebration and enjoyment was reached at Christmas when the previous summer's fishery turned out to be a good one. Those who could afford it in the city and outports laid in provisions enough for the whole winter... The prices of Christmas commodities in the food line were very cheap in the old days. This made earnings go a long way. Firewood was plentiful, especially in the outports, and instead of the modern stoves and ranges most houses had the open fireplace. The kitchen, the largest room in the house, was the "living" room. The floor was often covered with sawdust or fine sand from the beach. A large high-backed long seat on each side of the fireplace, called the "settle", gave room for six people. Cod-oil Read more

Christmas in 1842

Published January 15, 2008        by Nicole

Two special seasons are, however, devoted in the large towns to merry meetings - Christmas and New Year's Eve. At St. John's on St. Stephen's Day, little boys go about from door to door with a green bush from the spruce trees decorated with ribands and paper (in which, if they can get one, is a little bird, to represent the wren) and repeat the following verse, or something of the same kind:- The wren, the wren, the king of all birds, Was caught on St. Stephen's Day in the firs, Although he is little, his honor is great; So rise up, kind madam, and give us a treat. Up with the kettle, and down with the pan; A penny, or two-pence, to bury the wren. Your pocket full of money, and your cellar full of beer, I wish you all a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. This ancient custom as well Read more

The Spirit of Christmas

Published January 14, 2008        by Nicole

Well boys, with Christmas just a few gunshots ahead, I figger as hov this is a good time to forget all about our troubles over the cull and price of fish and all the other tormenting things in a fisherman's life and talk about something pleasant that we all believe in - Christmas.  But it's not enough to say that we folks in Pigeon Inlet believe in the spirit of Christmas, Santa Claus, St. Nick, or whatever you mind to call it. Like Skipper Joe Irwin said to me the other day: "Mose," he said. "the spirit of Christmas is like the Sou'west wind. We don't haw to believe in it, because we know it's there. It's true we don't actually see the Christmas spirit or Santa Claus (as the youngsters call him) but neither do we see the Sou'west wind. But we know when the Sou'wester is there because we Read more

Rambling Thoughts about Christmas Years Ago

Published January 10, 2008        by Nicole

A great many of the sports and ceremonies had long ceased to be performed at the time I was ushered "into this breathing world", still I was fortunate in having for parents those who dearly loved old Terra Nova and whose memories were well stored with anecdotes and history of ye olden time, handed down from sire to son for many generations. Consequently, on each Christmas Eve, when the Christmas votive candles were lighted, and the chairs drawn up in front of the Christmas "back-junk", the yulelog of Newfoundland and as the "mighty flame went roaring up the chimney wide", we were told the oft-repeated stories of early life in Newfoundland - some enchanting, some too sombre to be repeated at this glad time. It is no wonder, then, that I take as much boyish delight on each return of this festival, Read more