Well-Chosen Gifts

1900

Berlin papers state that the family of Prince Bismarck found a serious difficulty after his death in disposing of the presents sent to him during the last few years of his life by his enthusiastic admirers. The gifts were numbered by the thousand and embraced the most incongruous articles, from a live rhinoceros to a coffin.

All men, says an old proverb, give gifts; but few men give pleasure with their gifts.

Why should a man or woman, striving to express affection for a friend, cumber him with a nuisance? Usually because, in choosing a gift, we are apt to consult our own tastes rather than those of our friend.

After William Penn died, the Indians in his province sent to his widow, Hannah, a cloak of the most costly furs. "To protect her," was their message, " while travelling alone without her guide for the rest of her way through the thorny wilderness."

Here were all the qualities of a perfect gift: a fine meaning embodied in an article of value and of service to the person to whom it was given.

A poor widow to whom Queen Victoria had granted a pension wished to express her gratitude and loyalty. But what could she give that the empress of one-fourth of the world would value?

She was an expert amateur photographer, and it occurred to her to take pictures of all the places visited by the queen when she was a young wife with Prince Albert.

The little volume was finished, simply bound and sent to Windsor Castle, and the queen is said to keep it among her chief treasures.

In the meaning, not the cost, of a gift lies its value. — Youth's Companion.