Year: 1877

AN EDITORS CHRISTMAS "REMINISCENCES,


am an editor and one bitter cold
morning, few days before Christmas,
in the year 49,, sat as usual at my
desk. Among the heap of manuscripts
L was daily compelled to examine
many of them desultory, untidy, and
unstitched, defiant of spelling, subver-
sive of grammar, and with neither be-
ginning, middle or end-was one, writ
ten on the softest cream laid French
, white paper, in childish lady's hand
on lines which had been carefully erased
afterwards. 1t was little story of no
great literary merit, but there was an
aroma of youth and of sweetness in every
line. There was promise in it. 1t
was like the light in the sky before the
sun had risen on fine day-an omen, a
portent of sunshine and warmth, but no
more. put it down as if / had touch
cd the petal of Il rose, There was a tiny
scented note beside it-of course full of
italics:


"DEAR Mr.. EDITOR I send You a
little story. lam only sixteen, and papa
and mamma do not know anything
about it, but please tell me if it be
worth anything. I,Oant it to be print
ed / a0ant to be paid for it. 1t is not
for myself, though, but want the
money to give ny dear little brother a
nice little birthday present. I am,
dear Mr.. Editor, yours, etc,


"ENILY -"


Then came the address and signature.
The writing of the note was less neat
and regular than the manuscript. But
there was the same fragrance of dainty
youth about it.


held it long time in my hand. 1
am an old man at all events middle
aged, perhaps something more but my
heart is younger than my appearance.
Little Installations came or seemed to
come, from the paper held. 1t was
with no common feeling of interest that
sat down and wrote my answer to the
note. l returned the manuscript, but
l wrote gently and tenderly. I gave it
as my hope and my opinion that, with o
little more care and study, the youthful
writer would achieve a success. / even
promised to print that identical manu-
script If it were little revised or cor
rected, and I pointed ont how it might
be made available. L opened the window
of my den after had written my note
The weeds piercing through the flags
below had less dreary look than they
had ever had before q CLEAN of sun
shine shone on them, and their frosty
verdure borrowed something of Picciola
brightness from it. ] posted my letter
nd hn ,,.k - L
named, and went home, wondering if
ever | should hear from the writer again.
With that, however, all thoughts of the
manuscript passed away. The author
was too timid to reply.


On Christmas Eve was asked as
usual to dine with an old friend Of mine
at st. Johns Wood. He was married
man, with pleasant comely wife, and
several small children, male and female.


"The children are not coming down
TO dinner" said my hostess, "for they
are going to give us surprise after.
wards"


/ bowed and was delighted, both al
the anticipation Of pleasure to come, and
of,privation for the first time of consid.
cradle present annoyance. need moi
say was then a bachelor. When We
went up stairs after dinner, we found the
folding-doors which divided the front
I from the back room closed.


They were opened after while
The Christmas hymn was sung, and
tree of the most brilliant splendor was
revealed: on its branches were hung
gifts worked and embroidered by thu
children for their parents. The three
little girls and their governess had don,
it all.


While my friend and his wife wer,
embracing and thanking the children,
had time to notice the governess. Sh,
was very young, almost child herself
A mass of bright hair was gathered u,
in great waves at each side of her head
and fastened in loose thick loop be
hind. The bright curls were so arrange,
as to reveal the ear. The ear and cheel
we're, / should rather say they are lik
thoee painted by Leighton in bi
painters Honeymoon" Need sa,
more Of their rsvishine loveliness Bu