The daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1848-1851, 1849-01-22

| WnaL is Uldt lDo Olu ilidu lbs III hiS
asked Mr. Redlaw, as he sat down to his solitary
| meal.
Holly sir" replied the quiet voice OF Miliy.
"That s what say myself, sir" interposed Mr.
| William, striking in with the butter-boat = Ber-
ries is so seasonabe to the time OF year brown
gravy"'
| Another Christmas come, another year,! muir
| INJURED the Chemist, with gloomy sigh More
figures in the engtheng sum Of recollection that we
| work and work at to our torment, TIL DEAN ldiy
umbles all together, and rubs all out. So, Philip.
| breaking off and raising his voice as he addressed
| the old man. standing apart, with his gllsenlng
burden in his arms from which the quiet Mrs. Will
| liam took small branches, which she nolselessly
trimmed with her scissors, and decorated the room
with, while her aged ather-in-aw looked on, much
| interested in the ceremony.
| "Mv duty TO YOU, SIR returned the old man.
| " Should have spoken before sir, but know your
| ways, Mr. Redaw-proud to say-and wait till
| spoke to- Merry Christmas, sir and happy New
Year, and many of 'em: Have had pretty, many
| of 'em myself-ha, ha and may take the liberty
| of wishing EN-. IN eighty
| Have you had so many that you were merry and
happy" asked the other.
| "Ay, sir, ever SO many" returned the old man.
SIS his memory impaired with age! 1t is to be
| expected now,' said MIR. Redlaw, turning to the
| son, and speaking lower.
| Not a morsel of it, sir" replied MIR. William.
THAT IS exactly what | say myself, sir. There
never was such a memory as my fathers He s
| the most wonderful man IN the world lie don't
know what forgetting means. 1t s the very obser-
walton | IN always making to Mrs. William sir, if
You II believe me- -
Mr. Swdger, in his polite desire TO seem to acqul
at all events, delivered this if there were no
ota of contradiction in it, and il were all SAID In
unbounded and unqualified assent.
The Chemist pushed his plate away, and, rising
from the table walked the room to where the
old man stood locking al little sprig of holly in
his hand.
sit recalls the time when many of those years
| were old and new, then!' he said, observing him
attentivey and touching him on the shoulder.
g Does it?
'On, many, many.'' said Philip, half awaking
from his revery. 60 | m eighty-ssveno'
merry and happy, was it,! asked the Chemist,
in a low voice. Merry and happy, old man =
Maybe as high as that, no higher said the old
man, holding out his hand little way above the
level OF his knee, and looking rerospectivey at his
questioner, "when | first remember 'em! Cold,
sun-shiny day it was, out a walking, when some
one-lt was my mother as sure as you stand there,
though | don't know what her blessed face was
like, for she took ill and died that Christmas time
told me they We're food for birds The pretty little
fellow thought-that s me, You Understandable
birds eyes were so bright | recoect that And
L m elghty-seven!'
Merry and happy!'' unused the other, bending
his dark eyes upon the STOPPING figure, with smile
OF compassion. Merry and happy-and remem-
Der well 20
cay, ay, ay!' resumed the old man, catching
the last words. " remember EN- well in my
school time, year year, and all the merry max
ing that used TO come along with Them | was a
strong chap then, Mr.. Redlaw; and, if you believe
me, had MT my match at foot ball within ten mile
Where s my son, William! Had MT my match at
football, William, within ten mile -
That 'swhat | always say, father 20 returned
the son promptly, and with great respect You
ARE Swidger, if ever there was one of the
family -
"Dear!" said the man, shaking his head as he
again looked at the holly. g His mother-my son
Williams my youngest son-and have sat among
em ALL bows and girls little children and babies,
many year, when the berries like these were
not shining half SO bright all round us as their
bright faces. Many of 'em are gone; she's gone
and my son George (our oldest, who was her pride
more than all the rest is fallen very low; but |
can see them, when look here, alive and healthy,
as they used to be in those days; and | can see
him, thank God, in his innocence. It's a blessed
thing TO me- at eighty-seven."
The keen look that had been fixed upon him with
so much earnestness, had gradually sought the
ground.
When my circumstances got to be not so good
formerly, through not being honestly dealt by,
and first come here to be custodian, said the old
man, g which was upwards of fifty years ago
where's my son William! More than half CEN
tury ago, William? 20
THAT'S what saw father replied the son. as
where it is. Two times ough;'s ought, and
twice five ten, and there's hundred of EN-
at was quite pleasure to know that one of our
founders-or more correctly speaking, said the old
man, with a great glory. in his subject and his
knowledge of it., lone of the learned gentlemen
that he ped endow in Queen Elizabeth's time,
for We were alore her day-left in his will among
the other requests he made us, much to buy
holly for garnishing the walls and windows, come
Christmas. There something hOmely and |
Itry.1 I,+-t laro ~
coming at Christmas time, We took liking for his |
very pictur that hangs in what used to be ancieny
afore our ten poor gentlemen committed for an |
annual stipend in money, our great dinner hall. A
sedate gentleman in peaked beard with ruff
round his neck and scroll below him, in old Eng |
lish letters, Lord keep my memory green = You |
know all about him, Mr. Redaw9"
:" know the portrait hangs there, Philip
eyes sure it's the second on the right above the |
paneling was going to say he has helped to keep |
ma memory green, l thank him for going round |
the building every year, as I'm doing now, and |
refreshing up the bare rooms with these branches |
of berries, freshens up my bare old brain. One |
year brings back another, and that year another, |
and those others numbers! At last it seems to me
if the birth-time of our Lord the birth-time
of all have had affection for, or mourned for,
or delighted inland they pretty many, for I'm
eighty
Merry and happy" murmured Mr. Redlaw to
himself The room began to darken strangely.
- SO you see, sir, pursued old Philip, whose |
hale wintry cheek had warmed into ruddier glow,
and whose blue eyes had frightened while he
spoke, " | have plenty to keep, when | keep this
present season. Now where's my quiet Mouse |
Gatherings the sin of my time of life, and there's
half the building to do yet, if the cold don't freeze
us first, or the wind don't blow us away, or the /
darkness don't swallow up
The quiet Mouse had brought her calm face to
his SIDE and silently taken his arm, before be fin
ished speaking.
Come away, my dear" said the old man. &c Mr..
RedIaw won't settle to his dinner otherwise, till lis
as cold as the winter. | hope you'll excuse me
rambling on, sir, and wish you good night, and,
once again, merry"
STAY" said Mr.. Redlaw, resuming his place
at the table, more, it would have seemed from his
manner to reassure the old keeper, than in any re-
membrance of his own annette " Snare me an