The times., 1899-12-24
ON CHRISTMAS EVE.

II was a brilliant moonlight night, but
extremely cold Our chaise whirled rapidly
over the frozen ground; the postboy smack
ed his whip necessarily, and a part of the
time his horses were on a gaUop. He
knows where he is going" said my com
panion, laughing, and is eager to ar
rive in time for some of the merriment
and good cheer Of the servants hall. My
father is a devotee of the old scool, and
prides himself on keeping up old English
hospitality. He was always scru
pulous in eXacting our holidays, and having
us around him on family festivals II was
the policy of the good old gentleman TO
make his children feel that home was the
happiest place in the world. and l value
this delicious home-feeling as one of the
choicest gifts parent can bestOw." =
The squire ushered us at once 10 the
company, which was assembled in a large
old-fashioned hall. 1t was composed Of
different branches of q numerous family
connection. They were variously
occupied, and a profusion of wooden horses
penny trumpets, and tattered dolls about
the floor showed traces of a little troop of
fairy beings who had frolicked through q
happy day.
While the mutual greetings were going
on between Bracebridge and his relatives
I had time to scan the apartment. =
The CRATE had been removed from the wide,
ovorhanging fireplace, to make way for a
fire of wood. in the midst of which was an
enormous log, glowing and blazing, and
sending forth a vast volume of hight and
heat. This I understood, was the yule
log, which the squire was particular in
having brought in and illumined on Christ
mas eve. according to ancient custom.
II was really delightful to see the old
squire in his hereditary elbow chair by the
hospitable freside of his ancestors. and
locking around him like the sun of a sys-
tenn beaming warmth and gladness TO
every heart. Even the very dog that lay
stretched at his feet, as he lazily shifted
his position and yawned, would look fondly
up in his masters face, wag his tail
against the floor and stretch himself
again to sleep, sure of kindness and pro-
lection.
Supper was announced shortly after our
arrival 1t was served up in spacious
oakeu chamber the panels of which shone
with wax, and around which were several
family portraits, decorated with holly and
ivy. Besides the accustomed lights, two
great wax tapers, called Christmas can
dies, wreathed with greens, We're placed on
a highly polished buffet among the family
plate. The table was abundantly spread
with substantial fare, but the squire made
his supper OF frumenty, a dish made Cf
wheat cakes boiled in milk, with rich
spices, being standing dish in old time
for Christmas eve. l was happy to find my
old friend-mince pie-in the retinue of the
feast.
The supper had disposed everyone to
gayety. and an old harper was summoned
from the servants hail. The dance,
like most dances after supper, was a merry
one Some Of the older folk joined in it,
and the squire himself figured down sew
eral couples with a partner with whom he
affirmed he had danced every Christmas for
nearly half a century.
The party broke up for the night with
the kind-hearted old custom of shaking
hands. AS / passed through the hall on
my way to my chamber, the dying embers
of the yule log still sent forth a dusky
glow, and, had it not been the season when
no spirit dares stir abroad, l should
have been half tempted TO steal from my
room at midnight and peep whether the
fairies might not be at their reyels about
the hearth.
had scarcely got into bed when a strain
Of music seemed to break forth in the air
just below the window. l listened, and
found il proceeded from a band which l
concluded to be the waits from some neigh
boring village. ! drew aside the curtains
to hear them more distinctly. The moon
beams fell through the upper part of the
easement, partially lighting up the anti
quated apartment. The sounds as they re-
ceded became more soft and aerial, and
seemed to accord with quiet and moonlight.
! listened and listened. They became more
and more tender and remote, and as they
gradually died away my head sank upon
the pillow, and I fell asleep Washington
Irving