diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10.txt | 2369 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10.zip | bin | 0 -> 51869 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10p.pdf | bin | 0 -> 220848 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10p.zip | bin | 0 -> 199535 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10pf.pdf | bin | 0 -> 197457 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10pf.zip | bin | 0 -> 183222 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10t.tex | 2368 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/cdscs10t.zip | bin | 0 -> 51587 bytes |
8 files changed, 4737 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/cdscs10.txt b/old/cdscs10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..298f95a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2369 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Some Christmas Stories by Dickens +#50 in our series by Charles Dickens + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +Some Christmas Stories + +by Charles Dickens + +September, 1998 [Etext #1467] +[Most recently updated August 18, 2002] + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Some Christmas Stories by Dickens +******This file should be named cdscs10.txt or cdscs10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, cdscs11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, cdscs10a.txt + + +This etext was prepared from the 1911 Chapman and Hall Christmas +Stories (Volume 1) edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we do NOT keep these books +in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, for time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. + + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +We would prefer to send you this information by email +(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). + +****** +If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] + +ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 +or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET INDEX?00.GUT +for a list of books +and +GET NEW GUT for general information +and +MGET GUT* for newsletters. + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This etext was prepared from the 1911 Chapman and Hall Christmas +Stories (Volume 1) edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +Some Short Christmas Stories by Charles Dickens + + + + +Contents: + +A Christmas Tree +What Christmas is as we Grow Older +The Poor Relation's Story +The Child's Story +The Schoolboy's Story +Nobody's Story + + + +A CHRISTMAS TREE + + + +I have been looking on, this evening, at a merry company of children +assembled round that pretty German toy, a Christmas Tree. The tree +was planted in the middle of a great round table, and towered high +above their heads. It was brilliantly lighted by a multitude of +little tapers; and everywhere sparkled and glittered with bright +objects. There were rosy-cheeked dolls, hiding behind the green +leaves; and there were real watches (with movable hands, at least, +and an endless capacity of being wound up) dangling from innumerable +twigs; there were French-polished tables, chairs, bedsteads, +wardrobes, eight-day clocks, and various other articles of domestic +furniture (wonderfully made, in tin, at Wolverhampton), perched +among the boughs, as if in preparation for some fairy housekeeping; +there were jolly, broad-faced little men, much more agreeable in +appearance than many real men--and no wonder, for their heads took +off, and showed them to be full of sugar-plums; there were fiddles +and drums; there were tambourines, books, work-boxes, paint-boxes, +sweetmeat-boxes, peep-show boxes, and all kinds of boxes; there were +trinkets for the elder girls, far brighter than any grown-up gold +and jewels; there were baskets and pincushions in all devices; there +were guns, swords, and banners; there were witches standing in +enchanted rings of pasteboard, to tell fortunes; there were +teetotums, humming-tops, needle-cases, pen-wipers, smelling-bottles, +conversation-cards, bouquet-holders; real fruit, made artificially +dazzling with gold leaf; imitation apples, pears, and walnuts, +crammed with surprises; in short, as a pretty child, before me, +delightedly whispered to another pretty child, her bosom friend, +"There was everything, and more." This motley collection of odd +objects, clustering on the tree like magic fruit, and flashing back +the bright looks directed towards it from every side--some of the +diamond-eyes admiring it were hardly on a level with the table, and +a few were languishing in timid wonder on the bosoms of pretty +mothers, aunts, and nurses--made a lively realisation of the fancies +of childhood; and set me thinking how all the trees that grow and +all the things that come into existence on the earth, have their +wild adornments at that well-remembered time. + +Being now at home again, and alone, the only person in the house +awake, my thoughts are drawn back, by a fascination which I do not +care to resist, to my own childhood. I begin to consider, what do +we all remember best upon the branches of the Christmas Tree of our +own young Christmas days, by which we climbed to real life. + +Straight, in the middle of the room, cramped in the freedom of its +growth by no encircling walls or soon-reached ceiling, a shadowy +tree arises; and, looking up into the dreamy brightness of its top-- +for I observe in this tree the singular property that it appears to +grow downward towards the earth--I look into my youngest Christmas +recollections! + +All toys at first, I find. Up yonder, among the green holly and red +berries, is the Tumbler with his hands in his pockets, who wouldn't +lie down, but whenever he was put upon the floor, persisted in +rolling his fat body about, until he rolled himself still, and +brought those lobster eyes of his to bear upon me--when I affected +to laugh very much, but in my heart of hearts was extremely doubtful +of him. Close beside him is that infernal snuff-box, out of which +there sprang a demoniacal Counsellor in a black gown, with an +obnoxious head of hair, and a red cloth mouth, wide open, who was +not to be endured on any terms, but could not be put away either; +for he used suddenly, in a highly magnified state, to fly out of +Mammoth Snuff-boxes in dreams, when least expected. Nor is the frog +with cobbler's wax on his tail, far off; for there was no knowing +where he wouldn't jump; and when he flew over the candle, and came +upon one's hand with that spotted back--red on a green ground--he +was horrible. The cardboard lady in a blue-silk skirt, who was +stood up against the candlestick to dance, and whom I see on the +same branch, was milder, and was beautiful; but I can't say as much +for the larger cardboard man, who used to be hung against the wall +and pulled by a string; there was a sinister expression in that nose +of his; and when he got his legs round his neck (which he very often +did), he was ghastly, and not a creature to be alone with. + +When did that dreadful Mask first look at me? Who put it on, and +why was I so frightened that the sight of it is an era in my life? +It is not a hideous visage in itself; it is even meant to be droll, +why then were its stolid features so intolerable? Surely not +because it hid the wearer's face. An apron would have done as much; +and though I should have preferred even the apron away, it would not +have been absolutely insupportable, like the mask. Was it the +immovability of the mask? The doll's face was immovable, but I was +not afraid of HER. Perhaps that fixed and set change coming over a +real face, infused into my quickened heart some remote suggestion +and dread of the universal change that is to come on every face, and +make it still? Nothing reconciled me to it. No drummers, from whom +proceeded a melancholy chirping on the turning of a handle; no +regiment of soldiers, with a mute band, taken out of a box, and +fitted, one by one, upon a stiff and lazy little set of lazy-tongs; +no old woman, made of wires and a brown-paper composition, cutting +up a pie for two small children; could give me a permanent comfort, +for a long time. Nor was it any satisfaction to be shown the Mask, +and see that it was made of paper, or to have it locked up and be +assured that no one wore it. The mere recollection of that fixed +face, the mere knowledge of its existence anywhere, was sufficient +to awake me in the night all perspiration and horror, with, "O I +know it's coming! O the mask!" + +I never wondered what the dear old donkey with the panniers--there +he is! was made of, then! His hide was real to the touch, I +recollect. And the great black horse with the round red spots all +over him--the horse that I could even get upon--I never wondered +what had brought him to that strange condition, or thought that such +a horse was not commonly seen at Newmarket. The four horses of no +colour, next to him, that went into the waggon of cheeses, and could +be taken out and stabled under the piano, appear to have bits of +fur-tippet for their tails, and other bits for their manes, and to +stand on pegs instead of legs, but it was not so when they were +brought home for a Christmas present. They were all right, then; +neither was their harness unceremoniously nailed into their chests, +as appears to be the case now. The tinkling works of the music- +cart, I DID find out, to be made of quill tooth-picks and wire; and +I always thought that little tumbler in his shirt sleeves, +perpetually swarming up one side of a wooden frame, and coming down, +head foremost, on the other, rather a weak-minded person--though +good-natured; but the Jacob's Ladder, next him, made of little +squares of red wood, that went flapping and clattering over one +another, each developing a different picture, and the whole +enlivened by small bells, was a mighty marvel and a great delight. + +Ah! The Doll's house!--of which I was not proprietor, but where I +visited. I don't admire the Houses of Parliament half so much as +that stone-fronted mansion with real glass windows, and door-steps, +and a real balcony--greener than I ever see now, except at watering +places; and even they afford but a poor imitation. And though it +DID open all at once, the entire house-front (which was a blow, I +admit, as cancelling the fiction of a staircase), it was but to shut +it up again, and I could believe. Even open, there were three +distinct rooms in it: a sitting-room and bed-room, elegantly +furnished, and best of all, a kitchen, with uncommonly soft fire- +irons, a plentiful assortment of diminutive utensils--oh, the +warming-pan!--and a tin man-cook in profile, who was always going to +fry two fish. What Barmecide justice have I done to the noble +feasts wherein the set of wooden platters figured, each with its own +peculiar delicacy, as a ham or turkey, glued tight on to it, and +garnished with something green, which I recollect as moss! Could +all the Temperance Societies of these later days, united, give me +such a tea-drinking as I have had through the means of yonder little +set of blue crockery, which really would hold liquid (it ran out of +the small wooden cask, I recollect, and tasted of matches), and +which made tea, nectar. And if the two legs of the ineffectual +little sugar-tongs did tumble over one another, and want purpose, +like Punch's hands, what does it matter? And if I did once shriek +out, as a poisoned child, and strike the fashionable company with +consternation, by reason of having drunk a little teaspoon, +inadvertently dissolved in too hot tea, I was never the worse for +it, except by a powder! + +Upon the next branches of the tree, lower down, hard by the green +roller and miniature gardening-tools, how thick the books begin to +hang. Thin books, in themselves, at first, but many of them, and +with deliciously smooth covers of bright red or green. What fat +black letters to begin with! "A was an archer, and shot at a frog." +Of course he was. He was an apple-pie also, and there he is! He +was a good many things in his time, was A, and so were most of his +friends, except X, who had so little versatility, that I never knew +him to get beyond Xerxes or Xantippe--like Y, who was always +confined to a Yacht or a Yew Tree; and Z condemned for ever to be a +Zebra or a Zany. But, now, the very tree itself changes, and +becomes a bean-stalk--the marvellous bean-stalk up which Jack +climbed to the Giant's house! And now, those dreadfully +interesting, double-headed giants, with their clubs over their +shoulders, begin to stride along the boughs in a perfect throng, +dragging knights and ladies home for dinner by the hair of their +heads. And Jack--how noble, with his sword of sharpness, and his +shoes of swiftness! Again those old meditations come upon me as I +gaze up at him; and I debate within myself whether there was more +than one Jack (which I am loth to believe possible), or only one +genuine original admirable Jack, who achieved all the recorded +exploits. + +Good for Christmas-time is the ruddy colour of the cloak, in which-- +the tree making a forest of itself for her to trip through, with her +basket--Little Red Riding-Hood comes to me one Christmas Eve to give +me information of the cruelty and treachery of that dissembling Wolf +who ate her grandmother, without making any impression on his +appetite, and then ate her, after making that ferocious joke about +his teeth. She was my first love. I felt that if I could have +married Little Red Riding-Hood, I should have known perfect bliss. +But, it was not to be; and there was nothing for it but to look out +the Wolf in the Noah's Ark there, and put him late in the procession +on the table, as a monster who was to be degraded. O the wonderful +Noah's Ark! It was not found seaworthy when put in a washing-tub, +and the animals were crammed in at the roof, and needed to have +their legs well shaken down before they could be got in, even there-- +and then, ten to one but they began to tumble out at the door, +which was but imperfectly fastened with a wire latch--but what was +THAT against it! Consider the noble fly, a size or two smaller than +the elephant: the lady-bird, the butterfly--all triumphs of art! +Consider the goose, whose feet were so small, and whose balance was +so indifferent, that he usually tumbled forward, and knocked down +all the animal creation. Consider Noah and his family, like idiotic +tobacco-stoppers; and how the leopard stuck to warm little fingers; +and how the tails of the larger animals used gradually to resolve +themselves into frayed bits of string! + +Hush! Again a forest, and somebody up in a tree--not Robin Hood, +not Valentine, not the Yellow Dwarf (I have passed him and all +Mother Bunch's wonders, without mention), but an Eastern King with a +glittering scimitar and turban. By Allah! two Eastern Kings, for I +see another, looking over his shoulder! Down upon the grass, at the +tree's foot, lies the full length of a coal-black Giant, stretched +asleep, with his head in a lady's lap; and near them is a glass box, +fastened with four locks of shining steel, in which he keeps the +lady prisoner when he is awake. I see the four keys at his girdle +now. The lady makes signs to the two kings in the tree, who softly +descend. It is the setting-in of the bright Arabian Nights. + +Oh, now all common things become uncommon and enchanted to me. All +lamps are wonderful; all rings are talismans. Common flower-pots +are full of treasure, with a little earth scattered on the top; +trees are for Ali Baba to hide in; beef-steaks are to throw down +into the Valley of Diamonds, that the precious stones may stick to +them, and be carried by the eagles to their nests, whence the +traders, with loud cries, will scare them. Tarts are made, +according to the recipe of the Vizier's son of Bussorah, who turned +pastrycook after he was set down in his drawers at the gate of +Damascus; cobblers are all Mustaphas, and in the habit of sewing up +people cut into four pieces, to whom they are taken blind-fold. + +Any iron ring let into stone is the entrance to a cave which only +waits for the magician, and the little fire, and the necromancy, +that will make the earth shake. All the dates imported come from +the same tree as that unlucky date, with whose shell the merchant +knocked out the eye of the genie's invisible son. All olives are of +the stock of that fresh fruit, concerning which the Commander of the +Faithful overheard the boy conduct the fictitious trial of the +fraudulent olive merchant; all apples are akin to the apple +purchased (with two others) from the Sultan's gardener for three +sequins, and which the tall black slave stole from the child. All +dogs are associated with the dog, really a transformed man, who +jumped upon the baker's counter, and put his paw on the piece of bad +money. All rice recalls the rice which the awful lady, who was a +ghoule, could only peck by grains, because of her nightly feasts in +the burial-place. My very rocking-horse,--there he is, with his +nostrils turned completely inside-out, indicative of Blood!--should +have a peg in his neck, by virtue thereof to fly away with me, as +the wooden horse did with the Prince of Persia, in the sight of all +his father's Court. + +Yes, on every object that I recognise among those upper branches of +my Christmas Tree, I see this fairy light! When I wake in bed, at +daybreak, on the cold, dark, winter mornings, the white snow dimly +beheld, outside, through the frost on the window-pane, I hear +Dinarzade. "Sister, sister, if you are yet awake, I pray you finish +the history of the Young King of the Black Islands." Scheherazade +replies, "If my lord the Sultan will suffer me to live another day, +sister, I will not only finish that, but tell you a more wonderful +story yet." Then, the gracious Sultan goes out, giving no orders +for the execution, and we all three breathe again. + +At this height of my tree I begin to see, cowering among the leaves-- +it may be born of turkey, or of pudding, or mince pie, or of these +many fancies, jumbled with Robinson Crusoe on his desert island, +Philip Quarll among the monkeys, Sandford and Merton with Mr. +Barlow, Mother Bunch, and the Mask--or it may be the result of +indigestion, assisted by imagination and over-doctoring--a +prodigious nightmare. It is so exceedingly indistinct, that I don't +know why it's frightful--but I know it is. I can only make out that +it is an immense array of shapeless things, which appear to be +planted on a vast exaggeration of the lazy-tongs that used to bear +the toy soldiers, and to be slowly coming close to my eyes, and +receding to an immeasurable distance. When it comes closest, it is +worse. In connection with it I descry remembrances of winter nights +incredibly long; of being sent early to bed, as a punishment for +some small offence, and waking in two hours, with a sensation of +having been asleep two nights; of the laden hopelessness of morning +ever dawning; and the oppression of a weight of remorse. + +And now, I see a wonderful row of little lights rise smoothly out of +the ground, before a vast green curtain. Now, a bell rings--a magic +bell, which still sounds in my ears unlike all other bells--and +music plays, amidst a buzz of voices, and a fragrant smell of +orange-peel and oil. Anon, the magic bell commands the music to +cease, and the great green curtain rolls itself up majestically, and +The Play begins! The devoted dog of Montargis avenges the death of +his master, foully murdered in the Forest of Bondy; and a humorous +Peasant with a red nose and a very little hat, whom I take from this +hour forth to my bosom as a friend (I think he was a Waiter or an +Hostler at a village Inn, but many years have passed since he and I +have met), remarks that the sassigassity of that dog is indeed +surprising; and evermore this jocular conceit will live in my +remembrance fresh and unfading, overtopping all possible jokes, unto +the end of time. Or now, I learn with bitter tears how poor Jane +Shore, dressed all in white, and with her brown hair hanging down, +went starving through the streets; or how George Barnwell killed the +worthiest uncle that ever man had, and was afterwards so sorry for +it that he ought to have been let off. Comes swift to comfort me, +the Pantomime--stupendous Phenomenon!--when clowns are shot from +loaded mortars into the great chandelier, bright constellation that +it is; when Harlequins, covered all over with scales of pure gold, +twist and sparkle, like amazing fish; when Pantaloon (whom I deem it +no irreverence to compare in my own mind to my grandfather) puts +red-hot pokers in his pocket, and cries "Here's somebody coming!" or +taxes the Clown with petty larceny, by saying, "Now, I sawed you do +it!" when Everything is capable, with the greatest ease, of being +changed into Anything; and "Nothing is, but thinking makes it so." +Now, too, I perceive my first experience of the dreary sensation-- +often to return in after-life--of being unable, next day, to get +back to the dull, settled world; of wanting to live for ever in the +bright atmosphere I have quitted; of doting on the little Fairy, +with the wand like a celestial Barber's Pole, and pining for a Fairy +immortality along with her. Ah, she comes back, in many shapes, as +my eye wanders down the branches of my Christmas Tree, and goes as +often, and has never yet stayed by me! + +Out of this delight springs the toy-theatre,--there it is, with its +familiar proscenium, and ladies in feathers, in the boxes!--and all +its attendant occupation with paste and glue, and gum, and water +colours, in the getting-up of The Miller and his Men, and Elizabeth, +or the Exile of Siberia. In spite of a few besetting accidents and +failures (particularly an unreasonable disposition in the +respectable Kelmar, and some others, to become faint in the legs, +and double up, at exciting points of the drama), a teeming world of +fancies so suggestive and all-embracing, that, far below it on my +Christmas Tree, I see dark, dirty, real Theatres in the day-time, +adorned with these associations as with the freshest garlands of the +rarest flowers, and charming me yet. + +But hark! The Waits are playing, and they break my childish sleep! +What images do I associate with the Christmas music as I see them +set forth on the Christmas Tree? Known before all the others, +keeping far apart from all the others, they gather round my little +bed. An angel, speaking to a group of shepherds in a field; some +travellers, with eyes uplifted, following a star; a baby in a +manger; a child in a spacious temple, talking with grave men; a +solemn figure, with a mild and beautiful face, raising a dead girl +by the hand; again, near a city gate, calling back the son of a +widow, on his bier, to life; a crowd of people looking through the +opened roof of a chamber where he sits, and letting down a sick +person on a bed, with ropes; the same, in a tempest, walking on the +water to a ship; again, on a sea-shore, teaching a great multitude; +again, with a child upon his knee, and other children round; again, +restoring sight to the blind, speech to the dumb, hearing to the +deaf, health to the sick, strength to the lame, knowledge to the +ignorant; again, dying upon a Cross, watched by armed soldiers, a +thick darkness coming on, the earth beginning to shake, and only one +voice heard, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do." + +Still, on the lower and maturer branches of the Tree, Christmas +associations cluster thick. School-books shut up; Ovid and Virgil +silenced; the Rule of Three, with its cool impertinent inquiries, +long disposed of; Terence and Plautus acted no more, in an arena of +huddled desks and forms, all chipped, and notched, and inked; +cricket-bats, stumps, and balls, left higher up, with the smell of +trodden grass and the softened noise of shouts in the evening air; +the tree is still fresh, still gay. If I no more come home at +Christmas-time, there will be boys and girls (thank Heaven!) while +the World lasts; and they do! Yonder they dance and play upon the +branches of my Tree, God bless them, merrily, and my heart dances +and plays too! + +And I do come home at Christmas. We all do, or we all should. We +all come home, or ought to come home, for a short holiday--the +longer, the better--from the great boarding-school, where we are for +ever working at our arithmetical slates, to take, and give a rest. +As to going a visiting, where can we not go, if we will; where have +we not been, when we would; starting our fancy from our Christmas +Tree! + +Away into the winter prospect. There are many such upon the tree! +On, by low-lying, misty grounds, through fens and fogs, up long +hills, winding dark as caverns between thick plantations, almost +shutting out the sparkling stars; so, out on broad heights, until we +stop at last, with sudden silence, at an avenue. The gate-bell has +a deep, half-awful sound in the frosty air; the gate swings open on +its hinges; and, as we drive up to a great house, the glancing +lights grow larger in the windows, and the opposing rows of trees +seem to fall solemnly back on either side, to give us place. At +intervals, all day, a frightened hare has shot across this whitened +turf; or the distant clatter of a herd of deer trampling the hard +frost, has, for the minute, crushed the silence too. Their watchful +eyes beneath the fern may be shining now, if we could see them, like +the icy dewdrops on the leaves; but they are still, and all is +still. And so, the lights growing larger, and the trees falling +back before us, and closing up again behind us, as if to forbid +retreat, we come to the house. + +There is probably a smell of roasted chestnuts and other good +comfortable things all the time, for we are telling Winter Stories-- +Ghost Stories, or more shame for us--round the Christmas fire; and +we have never stirred, except to draw a little nearer to it. But, +no matter for that. We came to the house, and it is an old house, +full of great chimneys where wood is burnt on ancient dogs upon the +hearth, and grim portraits (some of them with grim legends, too) +lower distrustfully from the oaken panels of the walls. We are a +middle-aged nobleman, and we make a generous supper with our host +and hostess and their guests--it being Christmas-time, and the old +house full of company--and then we go to bed. Our room is a very +old room. It is hung with tapestry. We don't like the portrait of +a cavalier in green, over the fireplace. There are great black +beams in the ceiling, and there is a great black bedstead, supported +at the foot by two great black figures, who seem to have come off a +couple of tombs in the old baronial church in the park, for our +particular accommodation. But, we are not a superstitious nobleman, +and we don't mind. Well! we dismiss our servant, lock the door, and +sit before the fire in our dressing-gown, musing about a great many +things. At length we go to bed. Well! we can't sleep. We toss and +tumble, and can't sleep. The embers on the hearth burn fitfully and +make the room look ghostly. We can't help peeping out over the +counterpane, at the two black figures and the cavalier--that wicked- +looking cavalier--in green. In the flickering light they seem to +advance and retire: which, though we are not by any means a +superstitious nobleman, is not agreeable. Well! we get nervous-- +more and more nervous. We say "This is very foolish, but we can't +stand this; we'll pretend to be ill, and knock up somebody." Well! +we are just going to do it, when the locked door opens, and there +comes in a young woman, deadly pale, and with long fair hair, who +glides to the fire, and sits down in the chair we have left there, +wringing her hands. Then, we notice that her clothes are wet. Our +tongue cleaves to the roof of our mouth, and we can't speak; but, we +observe her accurately. Her clothes are wet; her long hair is +dabbled with moist mud; she is dressed in the fashion of two hundred +years ago; and she has at her girdle a bunch of rusty keys. Well! +there she sits, and we can't even faint, we are in such a state +about it. Presently she gets up, and tries all the locks in the +room with the rusty keys, which won't fit one of them; then, she +fixes her eyes on the portrait of the cavalier in green, and says, +in a low, terrible voice, "The stags know it!" After that, she +wrings her hands again, passes the bedside, and goes out at the +door. We hurry on our dressing-gown, seize our pistols (we always +travel with pistols), and are following, when we find the door +locked. We turn the key, look out into the dark gallery; no one +there. We wander away, and try to find our servant. Can't be done. +We pace the gallery till daybreak; then return to our deserted room, +fall asleep, and are awakened by our servant (nothing ever haunts +him) and the shining sun. Well! we make a wretched breakfast, and +all the company say we look queer. After breakfast, we go over the +house with our host, and then we take him to the portrait of the +cavalier in green, and then it all comes out. He was false to a +young housekeeper once attached to that family, and famous for her +beauty, who drowned herself in a pond, and whose body was +discovered, after a long time, because the stags refused to drink of +the water. Since which, it has been whispered that she traverses +the house at midnight (but goes especially to that room where the +cavalier in green was wont to sleep), trying the old locks with the +rusty keys. Well! we tell our host of what we have seen, and a +shade comes over his features, and he begs it may be hushed up; and +so it is. But, it's all true; and we said so, before we died (we +are dead now) to many responsible people. + +There is no end to the old houses, with resounding galleries, and +dismal state-bedchambers, and haunted wings shut up for many years, +through which we may ramble, with an agreeable creeping up our back, +and encounter any number of ghosts, but (it is worthy of remark +perhaps) reducible to a very few general types and classes; for, +ghosts have little originality, and "walk" in a beaten track. Thus, +it comes to pass, that a certain room in a certain old hall, where a +certain bad lord, baronet, knight, or gentleman, shot himself, has +certain planks in the floor from which the blood WILL NOT be taken +out. You may scrape and scrape, as the present owner has done, or +plane and plane, as his father did, or scrub and scrub, as his +grandfather did, or burn and burn with strong acids, as his great- +grandfather did, but, there the blood will still be--no redder and +no paler--no more and no less--always just the same. Thus, in such +another house there is a haunted door, that never will keep open; or +another door that never will keep shut, or a haunted sound of a +spinning-wheel, or a hammer, or a footstep, or a cry, or a sigh, or +a horse's tramp, or the rattling of a chain. Or else, there is a +turret-clock, which, at the midnight hour, strikes thirteen when the +head of the family is going to die; or a shadowy, immovable black +carriage which at such a time is always seen by somebody, waiting +near the great gates in the stable-yard. Or thus, it came to pass +how Lady Mary went to pay a visit at a large wild house in the +Scottish Highlands, and, being fatigued with her long journey, +retired to bed early, and innocently said, next morning, at the +breakfast-table, "How odd, to have so late a party last night, in +this remote place, and not to tell me of it, before I went to bed!" +Then, every one asked Lady Mary what she meant? Then, Lady Mary +replied, "Why, all night long, the carriages were driving round and +round the terrace, underneath my window!" Then, the owner of the +house turned pale, and so did his Lady, and Charles Macdoodle of +Macdoodle signed to Lady Mary to say no more, and every one was +silent. After breakfast, Charles Macdoodle told Lady Mary that it +was a tradition in the family that those rumbling carriages on the +terrace betokened death. And so it proved, for, two months +afterwards, the Lady of the mansion died. And Lady Mary, who was a +Maid of Honour at Court, often told this story to the old Queen +Charlotte; by this token that the old King always said, "Eh, eh? +What, what? Ghosts, ghosts? No such thing, no such thing!" And +never left off saying so, until he went to bed. + +Or, a friend of somebody's whom most of us know, when he was a young +man at college, had a particular friend, with whom he made the +compact that, if it were possible for the Spirit to return to this +earth after its separation from the body, he of the twain who first +died, should reappear to the other. In course of time, this compact +was forgotten by our friend; the two young men having progressed in +life, and taken diverging paths that were wide asunder. But, one +night, many years afterwards, our friend being in the North of +England, and staying for the night in an inn, on the Yorkshire +Moors, happened to look out of bed; and there, in the moonlight, +leaning on a bureau near the window, steadfastly regarding him, saw +his old college friend! The appearance being solemnly addressed, +replied, in a kind of whisper, but very audibly, "Do not come near +me. I am dead. I am here to redeem my promise. I come from +another world, but may not disclose its secrets!" Then, the whole +form becoming paler, melted, as it were, into the moonlight, and +faded away. + +Or, there was the daughter of the first occupier of the picturesque +Elizabethan house, so famous in our neighbourhood. You have heard +about her? No! Why, SHE went out one summer evening at twilight, +when she was a beautiful girl, just seventeen years of age, to +gather flowers in the garden; and presently came running, terrified, +into the hall to her father, saying, "Oh, dear father, I have met +myself!" He took her in his arms, and told her it was fancy, but +she said, "Oh no! I met myself in the broad walk, and I was pale +and gathering withered flowers, and I turned my head, and held them +up!" And, that night, she died; and a picture of her story was +begun, though never finished, and they say it is somewhere in the +house to this day, with its face to the wall. + +Or, the uncle of my brother's wife was riding home on horseback, one +mellow evening at sunset, when, in a green lane close to his own +house, he saw a man standing before him, in the very centre of a +narrow way. "Why does that man in the cloak stand there!" he +thought. "Does he want me to ride over him?" But the figure never +moved. He felt a strange sensation at seeing it so still, but +slackened his trot and rode forward. When he was so close to it, as +almost to touch it with his stirrup, his horse shied, and the figure +glided up the bank, in a curious, unearthly manner--backward, and +without seeming to use its feet--and was gone. The uncle of my +brother's wife, exclaiming, "Good Heaven! It's my cousin Harry, +from Bombay!" put spurs to his horse, which was suddenly in a +profuse sweat, and, wondering at such strange behaviour, dashed +round to the front of his house. There, he saw the same figure, +just passing in at the long French window of the drawing-room, +opening on the ground. He threw his bridle to a servant, and +hastened in after it. His sister was sitting there, alone. "Alice, +where's my cousin Harry?" "Your cousin Harry, John?" "Yes. From +Bombay. I met him in the lane just now, and saw him enter here, +this instant." Not a creature had been seen by any one; and in that +hour and minute, as it afterwards appeared, this cousin died in +India. + +Or, it was a certain sensible old maiden lady, who died at ninety- +nine, and retained her faculties to the last, who really did see the +Orphan Boy; a story which has often been incorrectly told, but, of +which the real truth is this--because it is, in fact, a story +belonging to our family--and she was a connexion of our family. +When she was about forty years of age, and still an uncommonly fine +woman (her lover died young, which was the reason why she never +married, though she had many offers), she went to stay at a place in +Kent, which her brother, an Indian-Merchant, had newly bought. +There was a story that this place had once been held in trust by the +guardian of a young boy; who was himself the next heir, and who +killed the young boy by harsh and cruel treatment. She knew nothing +of that. It has been said that there was a Cage in her bedroom in +which the guardian used to put the boy. There was no such thing. +There was only a closet. She went to bed, made no alarm whatever in +the night, and in the morning said composedly to her maid when she +came in, "Who is the pretty forlorn-looking child who has been +peeping out of that closet all night?" The maid replied by giving a +loud scream, and instantly decamping. She was surprised; but she +was a woman of remarkable strength of mind, and she dressed herself +and went downstairs, and closeted herself with her brother. "Now, +Walter," she said, "I have been disturbed all night by a pretty, +forlorn-looking boy, who has been constantly peeping out of that +closet in my room, which I can't open. This is some trick." "I am +afraid not, Charlotte," said he, "for it is the legend of the house. +It is the Orphan Boy. What did he do?" "He opened the door +softly," said she, "and peeped out. Sometimes, he came a step or +two into the room. Then, I called to him, to encourage him, and he +shrunk, and shuddered, and crept in again, and shut the door." "The +closet has no communication, Charlotte," said her brother, "with any +other part of the house, and it's nailed up." This was undeniably +true, and it took two carpenters a whole forenoon to get it open, +for examination. Then, she was satisfied that she had seen the +Orphan Boy. But, the wild and terrible part of the story is, that +he was also seen by three of her brother's sons, in succession, who +all died young. On the occasion of each child being taken ill, he +came home in a heat, twelve hours before, and said, Oh, Mamma, he +had been playing under a particular oak-tree, in a certain meadow, +with a strange boy--a pretty, forlorn-looking boy, who was very +timid, and made signs! From fatal experience, the parents came to +know that this was the Orphan Boy, and that the course of that child +whom he chose for his little playmate was surely run. + +Legion is the name of the German castles, where we sit up alone to +wait for the Spectre--where we are shown into a room, made +comparatively cheerful for our reception--where we glance round at +the shadows, thrown on the blank walls by the crackling fire--where +we feel very lonely when the village innkeeper and his pretty +daughter have retired, after laying down a fresh store of wood upon +the hearth, and setting forth on the small table such supper-cheer +as a cold roast capon, bread, grapes, and a flask of old Rhine wine-- +where the reverberating doors close on their retreat, one after +another, like so many peals of sullen thunder--and where, about the +small hours of the night, we come into the knowledge of divers +supernatural mysteries. Legion is the name of the haunted German +students, in whose society we draw yet nearer to the fire, while the +schoolboy in the corner opens his eyes wide and round, and flies off +the footstool he has chosen for his seat, when the door accidentally +blows open. Vast is the crop of such fruit, shining on our +Christmas Tree; in blossom, almost at the very top; ripening all +down the boughs! + +Among the later toys and fancies hanging there--as idle often and +less pure--be the images once associated with the sweet old Waits, +the softened music in the night, ever unalterable! Encircled by the +social thoughts of Christmas-time, still let the benignant figure of +my childhood stand unchanged! In every cheerful image and +suggestion that the season brings, may the bright star that rested +above the poor roof, be the star of all the Christian World! A +moment's pause, O vanishing tree, of which the lower boughs are dark +to me as yet, and let me look once more! I know there are blank +spaces on thy branches, where eyes that I have loved have shone and +smiled; from which they are departed. But, far above, I see the +raiser of the dead girl, and the Widow's Son; and God is good! If +Age be hiding for me in the unseen portion of thy downward growth, O +may I, with a grey head, turn a child's heart to that figure yet, +and a child's trustfulness and confidence! + +Now, the tree is decorated with bright merriment, and song, and +dance, and cheerfulness. And they are welcome. Innocent and +welcome be they ever held, beneath the branches of the Christmas +Tree, which cast no gloomy shadow! But, as it sinks into the +ground, I hear a whisper going through the leaves. "This, in +commemoration of the law of love and kindness, mercy and compassion. +This, in remembrance of Me!" + + + +WHAT CHRISTMAS IS AS WE GROW OLDER + + + +Time was, with most of us, when Christmas Day encircling all our +limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or +seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; +grouped everything and every one around the Christmas fire; and made +the little picture shining in our bright young eyes, complete. + +Time came, perhaps, all so soon, when our thoughts over-leaped that +narrow boundary; when there was some one (very dear, we thought +then, very beautiful, and absolutely perfect) wanting to the fulness +of our happiness; when we were wanting too (or we thought so, which +did just as well) at the Christmas hearth by which that some one +sat; and when we intertwined with every wreath and garland of our +life that some one's name. + +That was the time for the bright visionary Christmases which have +long arisen from us to show faintly, after summer rain, in the +palest edges of the rainbow! That was the time for the beatified +enjoyment of the things that were to be, and never were, and yet the +things that were so real in our resolute hope that it would be hard +to say, now, what realities achieved since, have been stronger! + +What! Did that Christmas never really come when we and the +priceless pearl who was our young choice were received, after the +happiest of totally impossible marriages, by the two united families +previously at daggers--drawn on our account? When brothers and +sisters-in-law who had always been rather cool to us before our +relationship was effected, perfectly doted on us, and when fathers +and mothers overwhelmed us with unlimited incomes? Was that +Christmas dinner never really eaten, after which we arose, and +generously and eloquently rendered honour to our late rival, present +in the company, then and there exchanging friendship and +forgiveness, and founding an attachment, not to be surpassed in +Greek or Roman story, which subsisted until death? Has that same +rival long ceased to care for that same priceless pearl, and married +for money, and become usurious? Above all, do we really know, now, +that we should probably have been miserable if we had won and worn +the pearl, and that we are better without her? + +That Christmas when we had recently achieved so much fame; when we +had been carried in triumph somewhere, for doing something great and +good; when we had won an honoured and ennobled name, and arrived and +were received at home in a shower of tears of joy; is it possible +that THAT Christmas has not come yet? + +And is our life here, at the best, so constituted that, pausing as +we advance at such a noticeable mile-stone in the track as this +great birthday, we look back on the things that never were, as +naturally and full as gravely as on the things that have been and +are gone, or have been and still are? If it be so, and so it seems +to be, must we come to the conclusion that life is little better +than a dream, and little worth the loves and strivings that we crowd +into it? + +No! Far be such miscalled philosophy from us, dear Reader, on +Christmas Day! Nearer and closer to our hearts be the Christmas +spirit, which is the spirit of active usefulness, perseverance, +cheerful discharge of duty, kindness and forbearance! It is in the +last virtues especially, that we are, or should be, strengthened by +the unaccomplished visions of our youth; for, who shall say that +they are not our teachers to deal gently even with the impalpable +nothings of the earth! + +Therefore, as we grow older, let us be more thankful that the circle +of our Christmas associations and of the lessons that they bring, +expands! Let us welcome every one of them, and summon them to take +their places by the Christmas hearth. + +Welcome, old aspirations, glittering creatures of an ardent fancy, +to your shelter underneath the holly! We know you, and have not +outlived you yet. Welcome, old projects and old loves, however +fleeting, to your nooks among the steadier lights that burn around +us. Welcome, all that was ever real to our hearts; and for the +earnestness that made you real, thanks to Heaven! Do we build no +Christmas castles in the clouds now? Let our thoughts, fluttering +like butterflies among these flowers of children, bear witness! +Before this boy, there stretches out a Future, brighter than we ever +looked on in our old romantic time, but bright with honour and with +truth. Around this little head on which the sunny curls lie heaped, +the graces sport, as prettily, as airily, as when there was no +scythe within the reach of Time to shear away the curls of our +first-love. Upon another girl's face near it--placider but smiling +bright--a quiet and contented little face, we see Home fairly +written. Shining from the word, as rays shine from a star, we see +how, when our graves are old, other hopes than ours are young, other +hearts than ours are moved; how other ways are smoothed; how other +happiness blooms, ripens, and decays--no, not decays, for other +homes and other bands of children, not yet in being nor for ages yet +to be, arise, and bloom and ripen to the end of all! + +Welcome, everything! Welcome, alike what has been, and what never +was, and what we hope may be, to your shelter underneath the holly, +to your places round the Christmas fire, where what is sits open- +hearted! In yonder shadow, do we see obtruding furtively upon the +blaze, an enemy's face? By Christmas Day we do forgive him! If the +injury he has done us may admit of such companionship, let him come +here and take his place. If otherwise, unhappily, let him go hence, +assured that we will never injure nor accuse him. + +On this day we shut out Nothing! + +"Pause," says a low voice. "Nothing? Think!" + +"On Christmas Day, we will shut out from our fireside, Nothing." + +"Not the shadow of a vast City where the withered leaves are lying +deep?" the voice replies. "Not the shadow that darkens the whole +globe? Not the shadow of the City of the Dead?" + +Not even that. Of all days in the year, we will turn our faces +towards that City upon Christmas Day, and from its silent hosts +bring those we loved, among us. City of the Dead, in the blessed +name wherein we are gathered together at this time, and in the +Presence that is here among us according to the promise, we will +receive, and not dismiss, thy people who are dear to us! + +Yes. We can look upon these children angels that alight, so +solemnly, so beautifully among the living children by the fire, and +can bear to think how they departed from us. Entertaining angels +unawares, as the Patriarchs did, the playful children are +unconscious of their guests; but we can see them--can see a radiant +arm around one favourite neck, as if there were a tempting of that +child away. Among the celestial figures there is one, a poor +misshapen boy on earth, of a glorious beauty now, of whom his dying +mother said it grieved her much to leave him here, alone, for so +many years as it was likely would elapse before he came to her-- +being such a little child. But he went quickly, and was laid upon +her breast, and in her hand she leads him. + +There was a gallant boy, who fell, far away, upon a burning sand +beneath a burning sun, and said, "Tell them at home, with my last +love, how much I could have wished to kiss them once, but that I +died contented and had done my duty!" Or there was another, over +whom they read the words, "Therefore we commit his body to the +deep," and so consigned him to the lonely ocean and sailed on. Or +there was another, who lay down to his rest in the dark shadow of +great forests, and, on earth, awoke no more. O shall they not, from +sand and sea and forest, be brought home at such a time! + +There was a dear girl--almost a woman--never to be one--who made a +mourning Christmas in a house of joy, and went her trackless way to +the silent City. Do we recollect her, worn out, faintly whispering +what could not be heard, and falling into that last sleep for +weariness? O look upon her now! O look upon her beauty, her +serenity, her changeless youth, her happiness! The daughter of +Jairus was recalled to life, to die; but she, more blest, has heard +the same voice, saying unto her, "Arise for ever!" + +We had a friend who was our friend from early days, with whom we +often pictured the changes that were to come upon our lives, and +merrily imagined how we would speak, and walk, and think, and talk, +when we came to be old. His destined habitation in the City of the +Dead received him in his prime. Shall he be shut out from our +Christmas remembrance? Would his love have so excluded us? Lost +friend, lost child, lost parent, sister, brother, husband, wife, we +will not so discard you! You shall hold your cherished places in +our Christmas hearts, and by our Christmas fires; and in the season +of immortal hope, and on the birthday of immortal mercy, we will +shut out Nothing! + +The winter sun goes down over town and village; on the sea it makes +a rosy path, as if the Sacred tread were fresh upon the water. A +few more moments, and it sinks, and night comes on, and lights begin +to sparkle in the prospect. On the hill-side beyond the +shapelessly-diffused town, and in the quiet keeping of the trees +that gird the village-steeple, remembrances are cut in stone, +planted in common flowers, growing in grass, entwined with lowly +brambles around many a mound of earth. In town and village, there +are doors and windows closed against the weather, there are flaming +logs heaped high, there are joyful faces, there is healthy music of +voices. Be all ungentleness and harm excluded from the temples of +the Household Gods, but be those remembrances admitted with tender +encouragement! They are of the time and all its comforting and +peaceful reassurances; and of the history that re-united even upon +earth the living and the dead; and of the broad beneficence and +goodness that too many men have tried to tear to narrow shreds. + + + +THE POOR RELATION'S STORY + + + +He was very reluctant to take precedence of so many respected +members of the family, by beginning the round of stories they were +to relate as they sat in a goodly circle by the Christmas fire; and +he modestly suggested that it would be more correct if "John our +esteemed host" (whose health he begged to drink) would have the +kindness to begin. For as to himself, he said, he was so little +used to lead the way that really-- But as they all cried out here, +that he must begin, and agreed with one voice that he might, could, +would, and should begin, he left off rubbing his hands, and took his +legs out from under his armchair, and did begin. + +I have no doubt (said the poor relation) that I shall surprise the +assembled members of our family, and particularly John our esteemed +host to whom we are so much indebted for the great hospitality with +which he has this day entertained us, by the confession I am going +to make. But, if you do me the honour to be surprised at anything +that falls from a person so unimportant in the family as I am, I can +only say that I shall be scrupulously accurate in all I relate. + +I am not what I am supposed to be. I am quite another thing. +Perhaps before I go further, I had better glance at what I AM +supposed to be. + +It is supposed, unless I mistake--the assembled members of our +family will correct me if I do, which is very likely (here the poor +relation looked mildly about him for contradiction); that I am +nobody's enemy but my own. That I never met with any particular +success in anything. That I failed in business because I was +unbusiness-like and credulous--in not being prepared for the +interested designs of my partner. That I failed in love, because I +was ridiculously trustful--in thinking it impossible that Christiana +could deceive me. That I failed in my expectations from my uncle +Chill, on account of not being as sharp as he could have wished in +worldly matters. That, through life, I have been rather put upon +and disappointed in a general way. That I am at present a bachelor +of between fifty-nine and sixty years of age, living on a limited +income in the form of a quarterly allowance, to which I see that +John our esteemed host wishes me to make no further allusion. + +The supposition as to my present pursuits and habits is to the +following effect. + +I live in a lodging in the Clapham Road--a very clean back room, in +a very respectable house--where I am expected not to be at home in +the day-time, unless poorly; and which I usually leave in the +morning at nine o'clock, on pretence of going to business. I take +my breakfast--my roll and butter, and my half-pint of coffee--at the +old-established coffee-shop near Westminster Bridge; and then I go +into the City--I don't know why--and sit in Garraway's Coffee House, +and on 'Change, and walk about, and look into a few offices and +counting-houses where some of my relations or acquaintance are so +good as to tolerate me, and where I stand by the fire if the weather +happens to be cold. I get through the day in this way until five +o'clock, and then I dine: at a cost, on the average, of one and +threepence. Having still a little money to spend on my evening's +entertainment, I look into the old-established coffee-shop as I go +home, and take my cup of tea, and perhaps my bit of toast. So, as +the large hand of the clock makes its way round to the morning hour +again, I make my way round to the Clapham Road again, and go to bed +when I get to my lodging--fire being expensive, and being objected +to by the family on account of its giving trouble and making a dirt. + +Sometimes, one of my relations or acquaintances is so obliging as to +ask me to dinner. Those are holiday occasions, and then I generally +walk in the Park. I am a solitary man, and seldom walk with +anybody. Not that I am avoided because I am shabby; for I am not at +all shabby, having always a very good suit of black on (or rather +Oxford mixture, which has the appearance of black and wears much +better); but I have got into a habit of speaking low, and being +rather silent, and my spirits are not high, and I am sensible that I +am not an attractive companion. + +The only exception to this general rule is the child of my first +cousin, Little Frank. I have a particular affection for that child, +and he takes very kindly to me. He is a diffident boy by nature; +and in a crowd he is soon run over, as I may say, and forgotten. He +and I, however, get on exceedingly well. I have a fancy that the +poor child will in time succeed to my peculiar position in the +family. We talk but little; still, we understand each other. We +walk about, hand in hand; and without much speaking he knows what I +mean, and I know what he means. When he was very little indeed, I +used to take him to the windows of the toy-shops, and show him the +toys inside. It is surprising how soon he found out that I would +have made him a great many presents if I had been in circumstances +to do it. + +Little Frank and I go and look at the outside of the Monument--he is +very fond of the Monument--and at the Bridges, and at all the sights +that are free. On two of my birthdays, we have dined on e-la-mode +beef, and gone at half-price to the play, and been deeply +interested. I was once walking with him in Lombard Street, which we +often visit on account of my having mentioned to him that there are +great riches there--he is very fond of Lombard Street--when a +gentleman said to me as he passed by, "Sir, your little son has +dropped his glove." I assure you, if you will excuse my remarking +on so trivial a circumstance, this accidental mention of the child +as mine, quite touched my heart and brought the foolish tears into +my eyes. + +When Little Frank is sent to school in the country, I shall be very +much at a loss what to do with myself, but I have the intention of +walking down there once a month and seeing him on a half holiday. I +am told he will then be at play upon the Heath; and if my visits +should be objected to, as unsettling the child, I can see him from a +distance without his seeing me, and walk back again. His mother +comes of a highly genteel family, and rather disapproves, I am +aware, of our being too much together. I know that I am not +calculated to improve his retiring disposition; but I think he would +miss me beyond the feeling of the moment if we were wholly +separated. + +When I die in the Clapham Road, I shall not leave much more in this +world than I shall take out of it; but, I happen to have a miniature +of a bright-faced boy, with a curling head, and an open shirt-frill +waving down his bosom (my mother had it taken for me, but I can't +believe that it was ever like), which will be worth nothing to sell, +and which I shall beg may he given to Frank. I have written my dear +boy a little letter with it, in which I have told him that I felt +very sorry to part from him, though bound to confess that I knew no +reason why I should remain here. I have given him some short +advice, the best in my power, to take warning of the consequences of +being nobody's enemy but his own; and I have endeavoured to comfort +him for what I fear he will consider a bereavement, by pointing out +to him, that I was only a superfluous something to every one but +him; and that having by some means failed to find a place in this +great assembly, I am better out of it. + +Such (said the poor relation, clearing his throat and beginning to +speak a little louder) is the general impression about me. Now, it +is a remarkable circumstance which forms the aim and purpose of my +story, that this is all wrong. This is not my life, and these are +not my habits. I do not even live in the Clapham Road. +Comparatively speaking, I am very seldom there. I reside, mostly, +in a--I am almost ashamed to say the word, it sounds so full of +pretension--in a Castle. I do not mean that it is an old baronial +habitation, but still it is a building always known to every one by +the name of a Castle. In it, I preserve the particulars of my +history; they run thus: + +It was when I first took John Spatter (who had been my clerk) into +partnership, and when I was still a young man of not more than five- +and-twenty, residing in the house of my uncle Chill, from whom I had +considerable expectations, that I ventured to propose to Christiana. +I had loved Christiana a long time. She was very beautiful, and +very winning in all respects. I rather mistrusted her widowed +mother, who I feared was of a plotting and mercenary turn of mind; +but, I thought as well of her as I could, for Christiana's sake. I +never had loved any one but Christiana, and she had been all the +world, and O far more than all the world, to me, from our childhood! + +Christiana accepted me with her mother's consent, and I was rendered +very happy indeed. My life at my uncle Chill's was of a spare dull +kind, and my garret chamber was as dull, and bare, and cold, as an +upper prison room in some stern northern fortress. But, having +Christiana's love, I wanted nothing upon earth. I would not have +changed my lot with any human being. + +Avarice was, unhappily, my uncle Chill's master-vice. Though he was +rich, he pinched, and scraped, and clutched, and lived miserably. +As Christiana had no fortune, I was for some time a little fearful +of confessing our engagement to him; but, at length I wrote him a +letter, saying how it all truly was. I put it into his hand one +night, on going to bed. + +As I came down-stairs next morning, shivering in the cold December +air; colder in my uncle's unwarmed house than in the street, where +the winter sun did sometimes shine, and which was at all events +enlivened by cheerful faces and voices passing along; I carried a +heavy heart towards the long, low breakfast-room in which my uncle +sat. It was a large room with a small fire, and there was a great +bay window in it which the rain had marked in the night as if with +the tears of houseless people. It stared upon a raw yard, with a +cracked stone pavement, and some rusted iron railings half uprooted, +whence an ugly out-building that had once been a dissecting-room (in +the time of the great surgeon who had mortgaged the house to my +uncle), stared at it. + +We rose so early always, that at that time of the year we +breakfasted by candle-light. When I went into the room, my uncle +was so contracted by the cold, and so huddled together in his chair +behind the one dim candle, that I did not see him until I was close +to the table. + +As I held out my hand to him, he caught up his stick (being infirm, +he always walked about the house with a stick), and made a blow at +me, and said, "You fool!" + +"Uncle," I returned, "I didn't expect you to be so angry as this." +Nor had I expected it, though he was a hard and angry old man. + +"You didn't expect!" said he; "when did you ever expect? When did +you ever calculate, or look forward, you contemptible dog?" + +"These are hard words, uncle!" + +"Hard words? Feathers, to pelt such an idiot as you with," said he. +"Here! Betsy Snap! Look at him!" + +Betsy Snap was a withered, hard-favoured, yellow old woman--our only +domestic--always employed, at this time of the morning, in rubbing +my uncle's legs. As my uncle adjured her to look at me, he put his +lean grip on the crown of her head, she kneeling beside him, and +turned her face towards me. An involuntary thought connecting them +both with the Dissecting Room, as it must often have been in the +surgeon's time, passed across my mind in the midst of my anxiety. + +"Look at the snivelling milksop!" said my uncle. "Look at the baby! +This is the gentleman who, people say, is nobody's enemy but his +own. This is the gentleman who can't say no. This is the gentleman +who was making such large profits in his business that he must needs +take a partner, t'other day. This is the gentleman who is going to +marry a wife without a penny, and who falls into the hands of +Jezabels who are speculating on my death!" + +I knew, now, how great my uncle's rage was; for nothing short of his +being almost beside himself would have induced him to utter that +concluding word, which he held in such repugnance that it was never +spoken or hinted at before him on any account. + +"On my death," he repeated, as if he were defying me by defying his +own abhorrence of the word. "On my death--death--Death! But I'll +spoil the speculation. Eat your last under this roof, you feeble +wretch, and may it choke you!" + +You may suppose that I had not much appetite for the breakfast to +which I was bidden in these terms; but, I took my accustomed seat. +I saw that I was repudiated henceforth by my uncle; still I could +bear that very well, possessing Christiana's heart. + +He emptied his basin of bread and milk as usual, only that he took +it on his knees with his chair turned away from the table where I +sat. When he had done, he carefully snuffed out the candle; and the +cold, slate-coloured, miserable day looked in upon us. + +"Now, Mr. Michael," said he, "before we part, I should like to have +a word with these ladies in your presence." + +"As you will, sir," I returned; "but you deceive yourself, and wrong +us, cruelly, if you suppose that there is any feeling at stake in +this contract but pure, disinterested, faithful love." + +To this, he only replied, "You lie!" and not one other word. + +We went, through half-thawed snow and half-frozen rain, to the house +where Christiana and her mother lived. My uncle knew them very +well. They were sitting at their breakfast, and were surprised to +see us at that hour. + +"Your servant, ma'am," said my uncle to the mother. "You divine the +purpose of my visit, I dare say, ma'am. I understand there is a +world of pure, disinterested, faithful love cooped up here. I am +happy to bring it all it wants, to make it complete. I bring you +your son-in-law, ma'am--and you, your husband, miss. The gentleman +is a perfect stranger to me, but I wish him joy of his wise +bargain." + +He snarled at me as he went out, and I never saw him again. + + +It is altogether a mistake (continued the poor relation) to suppose +that my dear Christiana, over-persuaded and influenced by her +mother, married a rich man, the dirt from whose carriage wheels is +often, in these changed times, thrown upon me as she rides by. No, +no. She married me. + +The way we came to be married rather sooner than we intended, was +this. I took a frugal lodging and was saving and planning for her +sake, when, one day, she spoke to me with great earnestness, and +said: + +"My dear Michael, I have given you my heart. I have said that I +loved you, and I have pledged myself to be your wife. I am as much +yours through all changes of good and evil as if we had been married +on the day when such words passed between us. I know you well, and +know that if we should be separated and our union broken off, your +whole life would be shadowed, and all that might, even now, be +stronger in your character for the conflict with the world would +then be weakened to the shadow of what it is!" + +"God help me, Christiana!" said I. "You speak the truth." + +"Michael!" said she, putting her hand in mine, in all maidenly +devotion, "let us keep apart no longer. It is but for me to say +that I can live contented upon such means as you have, and I well +know you are happy. I say so from my heart. Strive no more alone; +let us strive together. My dear Michael, it is not right that I +should keep secret from you what you do not suspect, but what +distresses my whole life. My mother: without considering that what +you have lost, you have lost for me, and on the assurance of my +faith: sets her heart on riches, and urges another suit upon me, to +my misery. I cannot bear this, for to bear it is to be untrue to +you. I would rather share your struggles than look on. I want no +better home than you can give me. I know that you will aspire and +labour with a higher courage if I am wholly yours, and let it be so +when you will!" + +I was blest indeed, that day, and a new world opened to me. We were +married in a very little while, and I took my wife to our happy +home. That was the beginning of the residence I have spoken of; the +Castle we have ever since inhabited together, dates from that time. +All our children have been born in it. Our first child--now +married--was a little girl, whom we called Christiana. Her son is +so like Little Frank, that I hardly know which is which. + + +The current impression as to my partner's dealings with me is also +quite erroneous. He did not begin to treat me coldly, as a poor +simpleton, when my uncle and I so fatally quarrelled; nor did he +afterwards gradually possess himself of our business and edge me +out. On the contrary, he behaved to me with the utmost good faith +and honour. + +Matters between us took this turn:- On the day of my separation from +my uncle, and even before the arrival at our counting-house of my +trunks (which he sent after me, NOT carriage paid), I went down to +our room of business, on our little wharf, overlooking the river; +and there I told John Spatter what had happened. John did not say, +in reply, that rich old relatives were palpable facts, and that love +and sentiment were moonshine and fiction. He addressed me thus: + +"Michael," said John, "we were at school together, and I generally +had the knack of getting on better than you, and making a higher +reputation." + +"You had, John," I returned. + +"Although" said John, "I borrowed your books and lost them; borrowed +your pocket-money, and never repaid it; got you to buy my damaged +knives at a higher price than I had given for them new; and to own +to the windows that I had broken." + +"All not worth mentioning, John Spatter," said I, "but certainly +true." + +"When you were first established in this infant business, which +promises to thrive so well," pursued John, "I came to you, in my +search for almost any employment, and you made me your clerk." + +"Still not worth mentioning, my dear John Spatter," said I; "still, +equally true." + +"And finding that I had a good head for business, and that I was +really useful TO the business, you did not like to retain me in that +capacity, and thought it an act of justice soon to make me your +partner." + +"Still less worth mentioning than any of those other little +circumstances you have recalled, John Spatter," said I; "for I was, +and am, sensible of your merits and my deficiencies." + +"Now, my good friend," said John, drawing my arm through his, as he +had had a habit of doing at school; while two vessels outside the +windows of our counting-house--which were shaped like the stern +windows of a ship--went lightly down the river with the tide, as +John and I might then be sailing away in company, and in trust and +confidence, on our voyage of life; "let there, under these friendly +circumstances, be a right understanding between us. You are too +easy, Michael. You are nobody's enemy but your own. If I were to +give you that damaging character among our connexion, with a shrug, +and a shake of the head, and a sigh; and if I were further to abuse +the trust you place in me--" + +"But you never will abuse it at all, John," I observed. + +"Never!" said he; "but I am putting a case--I say, and if I were +further to abuse that trust by keeping this piece of our common +affairs in the dark, and this other piece in the light, and again +this other piece in the twilight, and so on, I should strengthen my +strength, and weaken your weakness, day by day, until at last I +found myself on the high road to fortune, and you left behind on +some bare common, a hopeless number of miles out of the way." + +"Exactly so," said I. + +"To prevent this, Michael," said John Spatter, "or the remotest +chance of this, there must be perfect openness between us. Nothing +must be concealed, and we must have but one interest." + +"My dear John Spatter," I assured him, "that is precisely what I +mean." + +"And when you are too easy," pursued John, his face glowing with +friendship, "you must allow me to prevent that imperfection in your +nature from being taken advantage of, by any one; you must not +expect me to humour it--" + +"My dear John Spatter," I interrupted, "I DON'T expect you to humour +it. I want to correct it." + +"And I, too," said John. + +"Exactly so!" cried I. "We both have the same end in view; and, +honourably seeking it, and fully trusting one another, and having +but one interest, ours will be a prosperous and happy partnership." + +"I am sure of it!" returned John Spatter. And we shook hands most +affectionately. + +I took John home to my Castle, and we had a very happy day. Our +partnership throve well. My friend and partner supplied what I +wanted, as I had foreseen that he would, and by improving both the +business and myself, amply acknowledged any little rise in life to +which I had helped him. + + +I am not (said the poor relation, looking at the fire as he slowly +rubbed his hands) very rich, for I never cared to be that; but I +have enough, and am above all moderate wants and anxieties. My +Castle is not a splendid place, but it is very comfortable, and it +has a warm and cheerful air, and is quite a picture of Home. + +Our eldest girl, who is very like her mother, married John Spatter's +eldest son. Our two families are closely united in other ties of +attachment. It is very pleasant of an evening, when we are all +assembled together--which frequently happens--and when John and I +talk over old times, and the one interest there has always been +between us. + +I really do not know, in my Castle, what loneliness is. Some of our +children or grandchildren are always about it, and the young voices +of my descendants are delightful--O, how delightful!--to me to hear. +My dearest and most devoted wife, ever faithful, ever loving, ever +helpful and sustaining and consoling, is the priceless blessing of +my house; from whom all its other blessings spring. We are rather a +musical family, and when Christiana sees me, at any time, a little +weary or depressed, she steals to the piano and sings a gentle air +she used to sing when we were first betrothed. So weak a man am I, +that I cannot bear to hear it from any other source. They played it +once, at the Theatre, when I was there with Little Frank; and the +child said wondering, "Cousin Michael, whose hot tears are these +that have fallen on my hand!" + +Such is my Castle, and such are the real particulars of my life +therein preserved. I often take Little Frank home there. He is +very welcome to my grandchildren, and they play together. At this +time of the year--the Christmas and New Year time--I am seldom out +of my Castle. For, the associations of the season seem to hold me +there, and the precepts of the season seem to teach me that it is +well to be there. + + +"And the Castle is--" observed a grave, kind voice among the +company. + +"Yes. My Castle," said the poor relation, shaking his head as he +still looked at the fire, "is in the Air. John our esteemed host +suggests its situation accurately. My Castle is in the Air! I have +done. Will you be so good as to pass the story?" + + + +THE CHILD'S STORY + + + +Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveller, and +he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to seem +very long when he began it, and very short when he got half way +through. + +He travelled along a rather dark path for some little time, without +meeting anything, until at last he came to a beautiful child. So he +said to the child, "What do you do here?" And the child said, "I am +always at play. Come and play with me!" + +So, he played with that child, the whole day long, and they were +very merry. The sky was so blue, the sun was so bright, the water +was so sparkling, the leaves were so green, the flowers were so +lovely, and they heard such singing-birds and saw so many butteries, +that everything was beautiful. This was in fine weather. When it +rained, they loved to watch the falling drops, and to smell the +fresh scents. When it blew, it was delightful to listen to the +wind, and fancy what it said, as it came rushing from its home-- +where was that, they wondered!--whistling and howling, driving the +clouds before it, bending the trees, rumbling in the chimneys, +shaking the house, and making the sea roar in fury. But, when it +snowed, that was best of all; for, they liked nothing so well as to +look up at the white flakes falling fast and thick, like down from +the breasts of millions of white birds; and to see how smooth and +deep the drift was; and to listen to the hush upon the paths and +roads. + +They had plenty of the finest toys in the world, and the most +astonishing picture-books: all about scimitars and slippers and +turbans, and dwarfs and giants and genii and fairies, and blue- +beards and bean-stalks and riches and caverns and forests and +Valentines and Orsons: and all new and all true. + +But, one day, of a sudden, the traveller lost the child. He called +to him over and over again, but got no answer. So, he went upon his +road, and went on for a little while without meeting anything, until +at last he came to a handsome boy. So, he said to the boy, "What do +you do here?" And the boy said, "I am always learning. Come and +learn with me." + +So he learned with that boy about Jupiter and Juno, and the Greeks +and the Romans, and I don't know what, and learned more than I could +tell--or he either, for he soon forgot a great deal of it. But, +they were not always learning; they had the merriest games that ever +were played. They rowed upon the river in summer, and skated on the +ice in winter; they were active afoot, and active on horseback; at +cricket, and all games at ball; at prisoner's base, hare and hounds, +follow my leader, and more sports than I can think of; nobody could +beat them. They had holidays too, and Twelfth cakes, and parties +where they danced till midnight, and real Theatres where they saw +palaces of real gold and silver rise out of the real earth, and saw +all the wonders of the world at once. As to friends, they had such +dear friends and so many of them, that I want the time to reckon +them up. They were all young, like the handsome boy, and were never +to be strange to one another all their lives through. + +Still, one day, in the midst of all these pleasures, the traveller +lost the boy as he had lost the child, and, after calling to him in +vain, went on upon his journey. So he went on for a little while +without seeing anything, until at last he came to a young man. So, +he said to the young man, "What do you do here?" And the young man +said, "I am always in love. Come and love with me." + +So, he went away with that young man, and presently they came to one +of the prettiest girls that ever was seen--just like Fanny in the +corner there--and she had eyes like Fanny, and hair like Fanny, and +dimples like Fanny's, and she laughed and coloured just as Fanny +does while I am talking about her. So, the young man fell in love +directly--just as Somebody I won't mention, the first time he came +here, did with Fanny. Well! he was teased sometimes--just as +Somebody used to be by Fanny; and they quarrelled sometimes--just as +Somebody and Fanny used to quarrel; and they made it up, and sat in +the dark, and wrote letters every day, and never were happy asunder, +and were always looking out for one another and pretending not to, +and were engaged at Christmas-time, and sat close to one another by +the fire, and were going to be married very soon--all exactly like +Somebody I won't mention, and Fanny! + +But, the traveller lost them one day, as he had lost the rest of his +friends, and, after calling to them to come back, which they never +did, went on upon his journey. So, he went on for a little while +without seeing anything, until at last he came to a middle-aged +gentleman. So, he said to the gentleman, "What are you doing here?" +And his answer was, "I am always busy. Come and be busy with me!" + +So, he began to be very busy with that gentleman, and they went on +through the wood together. The whole journey was through a wood, +only it had been open and green at first, like a wood in spring; and +now began to be thick and dark, like a wood in summer; some of the +little trees that had come out earliest, were even turning brown. +The gentleman was not alone, but had a lady of about the same age +with him, who was his Wife; and they had children, who were with +them too. So, they all went on together through the wood, cutting +down the trees, and making a path through the branches and the +fallen leaves, and carrying burdens, and working hard. + +Sometimes, they came to a long green avenue that opened into deeper +woods. Then they would hear a very little, distant voice crying, +"Father, father, I am another child! Stop for me!" And presently +they would see a very little figure, growing larger as it came +along, running to join them. When it came up, they all crowded +round it, and kissed and welcomed it; and then they all went on +together. + +Sometimes, they came to several avenues at once, and then they all +stood still, and one of the children said, "Father, I am going to +sea," and another said, "Father, I am going to India," and another, +"Father, I am going to seek my fortune where I can," and another, +"Father, I am going to Heaven!" So, with many tears at parting, +they went, solitary, down those avenues, each child upon its way; +and the child who went to Heaven, rose into the golden air and +vanished. + +Whenever these partings happened, the traveller looked at the +gentleman, and saw him glance up at the sky above the trees, where +the day was beginning to decline, and the sunset to come on. He +saw, too, that his hair was turning grey. But, they never could +rest long, for they had their journey to perform, and it was +necessary for them to be always busy. + +At last, there had been so many partings that there were no children +left, and only the traveller, the gentleman, and the lady, went upon +their way in company. And now the wood was yellow; and now brown; +and the leaves, even of the forest trees, began to fall. + +So, they came to an avenue that was darker than the rest, and were +pressing forward on their journey without looking down it when the +lady stopped. + +"My husband," said the lady. "I am called." + +They listened, and they heard a voice a long way down the avenue, +say, "Mother, mother!" + +It was the voice of the first child who had said, "I am going to +Heaven!" and the father said, "I pray not yet. The sunset is very +near. I pray not yet!" + +But, the voice cried, "Mother, mother!" without minding him, though +his hair was now quite white, and tears were on his face. + +Then, the mother, who was already drawn into the shade of the dark +avenue and moving away with her arms still round his neck, kissed +him, and said, "My dearest, I am summoned, and I go!" And she was +gone. And the traveller and he were left alone together. + +And they went on and on together, until they came to very near the +end of the wood: so near, that they could see the sunset shining +red before them through the trees. + +Yet, once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the +traveller lost his friend. He called and called, but there was no +reply, and when he passed out of the wood, and saw the peaceful sun +going down upon a wide purple prospect, he came to an old man +sitting on a fallen tree. So, he said to the old man, "What do you +do here?" And the old man said with a calm smile, "I am always +remembering. Come and remember with me!" + +So the traveller sat down by the side of that old man, face to face +with the serene sunset; and all his friends came softly back and +stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the young +man in love, the father, mother, and children: every one of them +was there, and he had lost nothing. So, he loved them all, and was +kind and forbearing with them all, and was always pleased to watch +them all, and they all honoured and loved him. And I think the +traveller must be yourself, dear Grandfather, because this what you +do to us, and what we do to you. + + + +THE SCHOOLBOY'S STORY + + + +Being rather young at present--I am getting on in years, but still I +am rather young--I have no particular adventures of my own to fall +back upon. It wouldn't much interest anybody here, I suppose, to +know what a screw the Reverend is, or what a griffin SHE is, or how +they do stick it into parents--particularly hair-cutting, and +medical attendance. One of our fellows was charged in his half's +account twelve and sixpence for two pills--tolerably profitable at +six and threepence a-piece, I should think--and he never took them +either, but put them up the sleeve of his jacket. + +As to the beef, it's shameful. It's NOT beef. Regular beef isn't +veins. You can chew regular beef. Besides which, there's gravy to +regular beef, and you never see a drop to ours. Another of our +fellows went home ill, and heard the family doctor tell his father +that he couldn't account for his complaint unless it was the beer. +Of course it was the beer, and well it might be! + +However, beef and Old Cheeseman are two different things. So is +beer. It was Old Cheeseman I meant to tell about; not the manner in +which our fellows get their constitutions destroyed for the sake of +profit. + +Why, look at the pie-crust alone. There's no flakiness in it. It's +solid--like damp lead. Then our fellows get nightmares, and are +bolstered for calling out and waking other fellows. Who can wonder! + +Old Cheeseman one night walked in his sleep, put his hat on over his +night-cap, got hold of a fishing-rod and a cricket-bat, and went +down into the parlour, where they naturally thought from his +appearance he was a Ghost. Why, he never would have done that if +his meals had been wholesome. When we all begin to walk in our +sleeps, I suppose they'll be sorry for it. + +Old Cheeseman wasn't second Latin Master then; he was a fellow +himself. He was first brought there, very small, in a post-chaise, +by a woman who was always taking snuff and shaking him--and that was +the most he remembered about it. He never went home for the +holidays. His accounts (he never learnt any extras) were sent to a +Bank, and the Bank paid them; and he had a brown suit twice a-year, +and went into boots at twelve. They were always too big for him, +too. + +In the Midsummer holidays, some of our fellows who lived within +walking distance, used to come back and climb the trees outside the +playground wall, on purpose to look at Old Cheeseman reading there +by himself. He was always as mild as the tea--and THAT'S pretty +mild, I should hope!--so when they whistled to him, he looked up and +nodded; and when they said, "Halloa, Old Cheeseman, what have you +had for dinner?" he said, "Boiled mutton;" and when they said, "An't +it solitary, Old Cheeseman?" he said, "It is a little dull +sometimes:" and then they said, "Well good-bye, Old Cheeseman!" and +climbed down again. Of course it was imposing on Old Cheeseman to +give him nothing but boiled mutton through a whole Vacation, but +that was just like the system. When they didn't give him boiled +mutton, they gave him rice pudding, pretending it was a treat. And +saved the butcher. + +So Old Cheeseman went on. The holidays brought him into other +trouble besides the loneliness; because when the fellows began to +come back, not wanting to, he was always glad to see them; which was +aggravating when they were not at all glad to see him, and so he got +his head knocked against walls, and that was the way his nose bled. +But he was a favourite in general. Once a subscription was raised +for him; and, to keep up his spirits, he was presented before the +holidays with two white mice, a rabbit, a pigeon, and a beautiful +puppy. Old Cheeseman cried about it--especially soon afterwards, +when they all ate one another. + +Of course Old Cheeseman used to be called by the names of all sorts +of cheeses--Double Glo'sterman, Family Cheshireman, Dutchman, North +Wiltshireman, and all that. But he never minded it. And I don't +mean to say he was old in point of years--because he wasn't--only he +was called from the first, Old Cheeseman. + +At last, Old Cheeseman was made second Latin Master. He was brought +in one morning at the beginning of a new half, and presented to the +school in that capacity as "Mr. Cheeseman." Then our fellows all +agreed that Old Cheeseman was a spy, and a deserter, who had gone +over to the enemy's camp, and sold himself for gold. It was no +excuse for him that he had sold himself for very little gold--two +pound ten a quarter and his washing, as was reported. It was +decided by a Parliament which sat about it, that Old Cheeseman's +mercenary motives could alone be taken into account, and that he had +"coined our blood for drachmas." The Parliament took the expression +out of the quarrel scene between Brutus and Cassius. + +When it was settled in this strong way that Old Cheeseman was a +tremendous traitor, who had wormed himself into our fellows' secrets +on purpose to get himself into favour by giving up everything he +knew, all courageous fellows were invited to come forward and enrol +themselves in a Society for making a set against him. The President +of the Society was First boy, named Bob Tarter. His father was in +the West Indies, and he owned, himself, that his father was worth +Millions. He had great power among our fellows, and he wrote a +parody, beginning - + + + "Who made believe to be so meek + That we could hardly hear him speak, + Yet turned out an Informing Sneak? + Old Cheeseman." + + +- and on in that way through more than a dozen verses, which he used +to go and sing, every morning, close by the new master's desk. He +trained one of the low boys, too, a rosy-cheeked little Brass who +didn't care what he did, to go up to him with his Latin Grammar one +morning, and say it so: NOMINATIVUS PRONOMINUM--Old Cheeseman, RARO +EXPRIMITUR--was never suspected, NISI DISTINCTIONIS--of being an +informer, AUT EMPHASIS GRATIA--until he proved one. UT--for +instance, VOS DAMNASTIS--when he sold the boys. QUASI--as though, +DICAT--he should say, PRETAEREA NEMO--I'm a Judas! All this +produced a great effect on Old Cheeseman. He had never had much +hair; but what he had, began to get thinner and thinner every day. +He grew paler and more worn; and sometimes of an evening he was seen +sitting at his desk with a precious long snuff to his candle, and +his hands before his face, crying. But no member of the Society +could pity him, even if he felt inclined, because the President said +it was Old Cheeseman's conscience. + +So Old Cheeseman went on, and didn't he lead a miserable life! Of +course the Reverend turned up his nose at him, and of course SHE +did--because both of them always do that at all the masters--but he +suffered from the fellows most, and he suffered from them +constantly. He never told about it, that the Society could find +out; but he got no credit for that, because the President said it +was Old Cheeseman's cowardice. + +He had only one friend in the world, and that one was almost as +powerless as he was, for it was only Jane. Jane was a sort of +wardrobe woman to our fellows, and took care of the boxes. She had +come at first, I believe, as a kind of apprentice--some of our +fellows say from a Charity, but I don't know--and after her time was +out, had stopped at so much a year. So little a year, perhaps I +ought to say, for it is far more likely. However, she had put some +pounds in the Savings' Bank, and she was a very nice young woman. +She was not quite pretty; but she had a very frank, honest, bright +face, and all our fellows were fond of her. She was uncommonly neat +and cheerful, and uncommonly comfortable and kind. And if anything +was the matter with a fellow's mother, he always went and showed the +letter to Jane. + +Jane was Old Cheeseman's friend. The more the Society went against +him, the more Jane stood by him. She used to give him a good- +humoured look out of her still-room window, sometimes, that seemed +to set him up for the day. She used to pass out of the orchard and +the kitchen garden (always kept locked, I believe you!) through the +playground, when she might have gone the other way, only to give a +turn of her head, as much as to say "Keep up your spirits!" to Old +Cheeseman. His slip of a room was so fresh and orderly that it was +well known who looked after it while he was at his desk; and when +our fellows saw a smoking hot dumpling on his plate at dinner, they +knew with indignation who had sent it up. + +Under these circumstances, the Society resolved, after a quantity of +meeting and debating, that Jane should be requested to cut Old +Cheeseman dead; and that if she refused, she must be sent to +Coventry herself. So a deputation, headed by the President, was +appointed to wait on Jane, and inform her of the vote the Society +had been under the painful necessity of passing. She was very much +respected for all her good qualities, and there was a story about +her having once waylaid the Reverend in his own study, and got a +fellow off from severe punishment, of her own kind comfortable +heart. So the deputation didn't much like the job. However, they +went up, and the President told Jane all about it. Upon which Jane +turned very red, burst into tears, informed the President and the +deputation, in a way not at all like her usual way, that they were a +parcel of malicious young savages, and turned the whole respected +body out of the room. Consequently it was entered in the Society's +book (kept in astronomical cypher for fear of detection), that all +communication with Jane was interdicted: and the President +addressed the members on this convincing instance of Old Cheeseman's +undermining. + +But Jane was as true to Old Cheeseman as Old Cheeseman was false to +our fellows--in their opinion, at all events--and steadily continued +to be his only friend. It was a great exasperation to the Society, +because Jane was as much a loss to them as she was a gain to him; +and being more inveterate against him than ever, they treated him +worse than ever. At last, one morning, his desk stood empty, his +room was peeped into, and found to be vacant, and a whisper went +about among the pale faces of our fellows that Old Cheeseman, unable +to bear it any longer, had got up early and drowned himself. + +The mysterious looks of the other masters after breakfast, and the +evident fact that old Cheeseman was not expected, confirmed the +Society in this opinion. Some began to discuss whether the +President was liable to hanging or only transportation for life, and +the President's face showed a great anxiety to know which. However, +he said that a jury of his country should find him game; and that in +his address he should put it to them to lay their hands upon their +hearts and say whether they as Britons approved of informers, and +how they thought they would like it themselves. Some of the Society +considered that he had better run away until he found a forest where +he might change clothes with a wood-cutter, and stain his face with +blackberries; but the majority believed that if he stood his ground, +his father--belonging as he did to the West Indies, and being worth +millions--could buy him off. + +All our fellows' hearts beat fast when the Reverend came in, and +made a sort of a Roman, or a Field Marshal, of himself with the +ruler; as he always did before delivering an address. But their +fears were nothing to their astonishment when he came out with the +story that Old Cheeseman, "so long our respected friend and fellow- +pilgrim in the pleasant plains of knowledge," he called him--O yes! +I dare say! Much of that!--was the orphan child of a disinherited +young lady who had married against her father's wish, and whose +young husband had died, and who had died of sorrow herself, and +whose unfortunate baby (Old Cheeseman) had been brought up at the +cost of a grandfather who would never consent to see it, baby, boy, +or man: which grandfather was now dead, and serve him right--that's +my putting in--and which grandfather's large property, there being +no will, was now, and all of a sudden and for ever, Old Cheeseman's! +Our so long respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant +plains of knowledge, the Reverend wound up a lot of bothering +quotations by saying, would "come among us once more" that day +fortnight, when he desired to take leave of us himself, in a more +particular manner. With these words, he stared severely round at +our fellows, and went solemnly out. + +There was precious consternation among the members of the Society, +now. Lots of them wanted to resign, and lots more began to try to +make out that they had never belonged to it. However, the President +stuck up, and said that they must stand or fall together, and that +if a breach was made it should be over his body--which was meant to +encourage the Society: but it didn't. The President further said, +he would consider the position in which they stood, and would give +them his best opinion and advice in a few days. This was eagerly +looked for, as he knew a good deal of the world on account of his +father's being in the West Indies. + +After days and days of hard thinking, and drawing armies all over +his slate, the President called our fellows together, and made the +matter clear. He said it was plain that when Old Cheeseman came on +the appointed day, his first revenge would be to impeach the +Society, and have it flogged all round. After witnessing with joy +the torture of his enemies, and gloating over the cries which agony +would extort from them, the probability was that he would invite the +Reverend, on pretence of conversation, into a private room--say the +parlour into which Parents were shown, where the two great globes +were which were never used--and would there reproach him with the +various frauds and oppressions he had endured at his hands. At the +close of his observations he would make a signal to a Prizefighter +concealed in the passage, who would then appear and pitch into the +Reverend, till he was left insensible. Old Cheeseman would then +make Jane a present of from five to ten pounds, and would leave the +establishment in fiendish triumph. + +The President explained that against the parlour part, or the Jane +part, of these arrangements he had nothing to say; but, on the part +of the Society, he counselled deadly resistance. With this view he +recommended that all available desks should be filled with stones, +and that the first word of the complaint should be the signal to +every fellow to let fly at Old Cheeseman. The bold advice put the +Society in better spirits, and was unanimously taken. A post about +Old Cheeseman's size was put up in the playground, and all our +fellows practised at it till it was dinted all over. + +When the day came, and Places were called, every fellow sat down in +a tremble. There had been much discussing and disputing as to how +Old Cheeseman would come; but it was the general opinion that he +would appear in a sort of triumphal car drawn by four horses, with +two livery servants in front, and the Prizefighter in disguise up +behind. So, all our fellows sat listening for the sound of wheels. +But no wheels were heard, for Old Cheeseman walked after all, and +came into the school without any preparation. Pretty much as he +used to be, only dressed in black. + +"Gentlemen," said the Reverend, presenting him, "our so long +respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant plains of +knowledge, is desirous to offer a word or two. Attention, +gentlemen, one and all!" + +Every fellow stole his hand into his desk and looked at the +President. The President was all ready, and taking aim at old +Cheeseman with his eyes. + +What did Old Cheeseman then, but walk up to his old desk, look round +him with a queer smile as if there was a tear in his eye, and begin +in a quavering, mild voice, "My dear companions and old friends!" + +Every fellow's hand came out of his desk, and the President suddenly +began to cry. + +"My dear companions and old friends," said Old Cheeseman, "you have +heard of my good fortune. I have passed so many years under this +roof--my entire life so far, I may say--that I hope you have been +glad to hear of it for my sake. I could never enjoy it without +exchanging congratulations with you. If we have ever misunderstood +one another at all, pray, my dear boys, let us forgive and forget. +I have a great tenderness for you, and I am sure you return it. I +want in the fulness of a grateful heart to shake hands with you +every one. I have come back to do it, if you please, my dear boys." + +Since the President had begun to cry, several other fellows had +broken out here and there: but now, when Old Cheeseman began with +him as first boy, laid his left hand affectionately on his shoulder +and gave him his right; and when the President said "Indeed, I don't +deserve it, sir; upon my honour I don't;" there was sobbing and +crying all over the school. Every other fellow said he didn't +deserve it, much in the same way; but Old Cheeseman, not minding +that a bit, went cheerfully round to every boy, and wound up with +every master--finishing off the Reverend last. + +Then a snivelling little chap in a corner, who was always under some +punishment or other, set up a shrill cry of "Success to Old +Cheeseman! Hooray!" The Reverend glared upon him, and said, "MR. +Cheeseman, sir." But, Old Cheeseman protesting that he liked his +old name a great deal better than his new one, all our fellows took +up the cry; and, for I don't know how many minutes, there was such a +thundering of feet and hands, and such a roaring of Old Cheeseman, +as never was heard. + +After that, there was a spread in the dining-room of the most +magnificent kind. Fowls, tongues, preserves, fruits, +confectionaries, jellies, neguses, barley-sugar temples, trifles, +crackers--eat all you can and pocket what you like--all at Old +Cheeseman's expense. After that, speeches, whole holiday, double +and treble sets of all manners of things for all manners of games, +donkeys, pony-chaises and drive yourself, dinner for all the masters +at the Seven Bells (twenty pounds a-head our fellows estimated it +at), an annual holiday and feast fixed for that day every year, and +another on Old Cheeseman's birthday--Reverend bound down before the +fellows to allow it, so that he could never back out--all at Old +Cheeseman's expense. + +And didn't our fellows go down in a body and cheer outside the Seven +Bells? O no! + +But there's something else besides. Don't look at the next story- +teller, for there's more yet. Next day, it was resolved that the +Society should make it up with Jane, and then be dissolved. What do +you think of Jane being gone, though! "What? Gone for ever?" said +our fellows, with long faces. "Yes, to be sure," was all the answer +they could get. None of the people about the house would say +anything more. At length, the first boy took upon himself to ask +the Reverend whether our old friend Jane was really gone? The +Reverend (he has got a daughter at home--turn-up nose, and red) +replied severely, "Yes, sir, Miss Pitt is gone." The idea of +calling Jane, Miss Pitt! Some said she had been sent away in +disgrace for taking money from Old Cheeseman; others said she had +gone into Old Cheeseman's service at a rise of ten pounds a year. +All that our fellows knew, was, she was gone. + +It was two or three months afterwards, when, one afternoon, an open +carriage stopped at the cricket field, just outside bounds, with a +lady and gentleman in it, who looked at the game a long time and +stood up to see it played. Nobody thought much about them, until +the same little snivelling chap came in, against all rules, from the +post where he was Scout, and said, "It's Jane!" Both Elevens forgot +the game directly, and ran crowding round the carriage. It WAS +Jane! In such a bonnet! And if you'll believe me, Jane was married +to Old Cheeseman. + +It soon became quite a regular thing when our fellows were hard at +it in the playground, to see a carriage at the low part of the wall +where it joins the high part, and a lady and gentleman standing up +in it, looking over. The gentleman was always Old Cheeseman, and +the lady was always Jane. + +The first time I ever saw them, I saw them in that way. There had +been a good many changes among our fellows then, and it had turned +out that Bob Tarter's father wasn't worth Millions! He wasn't worth +anything. Bob had gone for a soldier, and Old Cheeseman had +purchased his discharge. But that's not the carriage. The carriage +stopped, and all our fellows stopped as soon as it was seen. + +"So you have never sent me to Coventry after all!" said the lady, +laughing, as our fellows swarmed up the wall to shake hands with +her. "Are you never going to do it?" + +"Never! never! never!" on all sides. + +I didn't understand what she meant then, but of course I do now. I +was very much pleased with her face though, and with her good way, +and I couldn't help looking at her--and at him too--with all our +fellows clustering so joyfully about them. + +They soon took notice of me as a new boy, so I thought I might as +well swarm up the wall myself, and shake hands with them as the rest +did. I was quite as glad to see them as the rest were, and was +quite as familiar with them in a moment. + +"Only a fortnight now," said Old Cheeseman, "to the holidays. Who +stops? Anybody?" + +A good many fingers pointed at me, and a good many voices cried "He +does!" For it was the year when you were all away; and rather low I +was about it, I can tell you. + +"Oh!" said Old Cheeseman. "But it's solitary here in the holiday +time. He had better come to us." + +So I went to their delightful house, and was as happy as I could +possibly be. They understand how to conduct themselves towards +boys, THEY do. When they take a boy to the play, for instance, they +DO take him. They don't go in after it's begun, or come out before +it's over. They know how to bring a boy up, too. Look at their +own! Though he is very little as yet, what a capital boy he is! +Why, my next favourite to Mrs. Cheeseman and Old Cheeseman, is young +Cheeseman. + +So, now I have told you all I know about Old Cheeseman. And it's +not much after all, I am afraid. Is it? + + + +NOBODY'S STORY + + + +He lived on the bank of a mighty river, broad and deep, which was +always silently rolling on to a vast undiscovered ocean. It had +rolled on, ever since the world began. It had changed its course +sometimes, and turned into new channels, leaving its old ways dry +and barren; but it had ever been upon the flow, and ever was to flow +until Time should be no more. Against its strong, unfathomable +stream, nothing made head. No living creature, no flower, no leaf, +no particle of animate or inanimate existence, ever strayed back +from the undiscovered ocean. The tide of the river set resistlessly +towards it; and the tide never stopped, any more than the earth +stops in its circling round the sun. + +He lived in a busy place, and he worked very hard to live. He had +no hope of ever being rich enough to live a month without hard work, +but he was quite content, GOD knows, to labour with a cheerful will. +He was one of an immense family, all of whose sons and daughters +gained their daily bread by daily work, prolonged from their rising +up betimes until their lying down at night. Beyond this destiny he +had no prospect, and he sought none. + +There was over-much drumming, trumpeting, and speech-making, in the +neighbourhood where he dwelt; but he had nothing to do with that. +Such clash and uproar came from the Bigwig family, at the +unaccountable proceedings of which race, he marvelled much. They +set up the strangest statues, in iron, marble, bronze, and brass, +before his door; and darkened his house with the legs and tails of +uncouth images of horses. He wondered what it all meant, smiled in +a rough good-humoured way he had, and kept at his hard work. + +The Bigwig family (composed of all the stateliest people +thereabouts, and all the noisiest) had undertaken to save him the +trouble of thinking for himself, and to manage him and his affairs. +"Why truly," said he, "I have little time upon my hands; and if you +will be so good as to take care of me, in return for the money I pay +over"--for the Bigwig family were not above his money--"I shall be +relieved and much obliged, considering that you know best." Hence +the drumming, trumpeting, and speech-making, and the ugly images of +horses which he was expected to fall down and worship. + +"I don't understand all this," said he, rubbing his furrowed brow +confusedly. "But it HAS a meaning, maybe, if I could find it out." + +"It means," returned the Bigwig family, suspecting something of what +he said, "honour and glory in the highest, to the highest merit." + +"Oh!" said he. And he was glad to hear that. + +But, when he looked among the images in iron, marble, bronze, and +brass, he failed to find a rather meritorious countryman of his, +once the son of a Warwickshire wool-dealer, or any single countryman +whomsoever of that kind. He could find none of the men whose +knowledge had rescued him and his children from terrific and +disfiguring disease, whose boldness had raised his forefathers from +the condition of serfs, whose wise fancy had opened a new and high +existence to the humblest, whose skill had filled the working man's +world with accumulated wonders. Whereas, he did find others whom he +knew no good of, and even others whom he knew much ill of. + +"Humph!" said he. "I don't quite understand it." + +So, he went home, and sat down by his fireside to get it out of his +mind. + +Now, his fireside was a bare one, all hemmed in by blackened +streets; but it was a precious place to him. The hands of his wife +were hardened with toil, and she was old before her time; but she +was dear to him. His children, stunted in their growth, bore traces +of unwholesome nurture; but they had beauty in his sight. Above all +other things, it was an earnest desire of this man's soul that his +children should be taught. "If I am sometimes misled," said he, +"for want of knowledge, at least let them know better, and avoid my +mistakes. If it is hard to me to reap the harvest of pleasure and +instruction that is stored in books, let it be easier to them." + +But, the Bigwig family broke out into violent family quarrels +concerning what it was lawful to teach to this man's children. Some +of the family insisted on such a thing being primary and +indispensable above all other things; and others of the family +insisted on such another thing being primary and indispensable above +all other things; and the Bigwig family, rent into factions, wrote +pamphlets, held convocations, delivered charges, orations, and all +varieties of discourses; impounded one another in courts Lay and +courts Ecclesiastical; threw dirt, exchanged pummelings, and fell +together by the ears in unintelligible animosity. Meanwhile, this +man, in his short evening snatches at his fireside, saw the demon +Ignorance arise there, and take his children to itself. He saw his +daughter perverted into a heavy, slatternly drudge; he saw his son +go moping down the ways of low sensuality, to brutality and crime; +he saw the dawning light of intelligence in the eyes of his babies +so changing into cunning and suspicion, that he could have rather +wished them idiots. + +"I don't understand this any the better," said he; "but I think it +cannot be right. Nay, by the clouded Heaven above me, I protest +against this as my wrong!" + +Becoming peaceable again (for his passion was usually short-lived, +and his nature kind), he looked about him on his Sundays and +holidays, and he saw how much monotony and weariness there was, and +thence how drunkenness arose with all its train of ruin. Then he +appealed to the Bigwig family, and said, "We are a labouring people, +and I have a glimmering suspicion in me that labouring people of +whatever condition were made--by a higher intelligence than yours, +as I poorly understand it--to be in need of mental refreshment and +recreation. See what we fall into, when we rest without it. Come! +Amuse me harmlessly, show me something, give me an escape!" + +But, here the Bigwig family fell into a state of uproar absolutely +deafening. When some few voices were faintly heard, proposing to +show him the wonders of the world, the greatness of creation, the +mighty changes of time, the workings of nature and the beauties of +art--to show him these things, that is to say, at any period of his +life when he could look upon them--there arose among the Bigwigs +such roaring and raving, such pulpiting and petitioning, such +maundering and memorialising, such name-calling and dirt-throwing, +such a shrill wind of parliamentary questioning and feeble replying- +-where "I dare not" waited on "I would"--that the poor fellow stood +aghast, staring wildly around. + +"Have I provoked all this," said he, with his hands to his +affrighted ears, "by what was meant to be an innocent request, +plainly arising out of my familiar experience, and the common +knowledge of all men who choose to open their eyes? I don't +understand, and I am not understood. What is to come of such a +state of things!" + +He was bending over his work, often asking himself the question, +when the news began to spread that a pestilence had appeared among +the labourers, and was slaying them by thousands. Going forth to +look about him, he soon found this to be true. The dying and the +dead were mingled in the close and tainted houses among which his +life was passed. New poison was distilled into the always murky, +always sickening air. The robust and the weak, old age and infancy, +the father and the mother, all were stricken down alike. + +What means of flight had he? He remained there, where he was, and +saw those who were dearest to him die. A kind preacher came to him, +and would have said some prayers to soften his heart in his gloom, +but he replied: + +"O what avails it, missionary, to come to me, a man condemned to +residence in this foetid place, where every sense bestowed upon me +for my delight becomes a torment, and where every minute of my +numbered days is new mire added to the heap under which I lie +oppressed! But, give me my first glimpse of Heaven, through a +little of its light and air; give me pure water; help me to be +clean; lighten this heavy atmosphere and heavy life, in which our +spirits sink, and we become the indifferent and callous creatures +you too often see us; gently and kindly take the bodies of those who +die among us, out of the small room where we grow to be so familiar +with the awful change that even its sanctity is lost to us; and, +Teacher, then I will hear--none know better than you, how willingly- +-of Him whose thoughts were so much with the poor, and who had +compassion for all human sorrow!" + +He was at work again, solitary and sad, when his Master came and +stood near to him dressed in black. He, also, had suffered heavily. +His young wife, his beautiful and good young wife, was dead; so, +too, his only child. + +"Master, 'tis hard to bear--I know it--but be comforted. I would +give you comfort, if I could." + +The Master thanked him from his heart, but, said he, "O you +labouring men! The calamity began among you. If you had but lived +more healthily and decently, I should not be the widowed and bereft +mourner that I am this day." + +"Master," returned the other, shaking his head, "I have begun to +understand a little that most calamities will come from us, as this +one did, and that none will stop at our poor doors, until we are +united with that great squabbling family yonder, to do the things +that are right. We cannot live healthily and decently, unless they +who undertook to manage us provide the means. We cannot be +instructed unless they will teach us; we cannot be rationally +amused, unless they will amuse us; we cannot but have some false +gods of our own, while they set up so many of theirs in all the +public places. The evil consequences of imperfect instruction, the +evil consequences of pernicious neglect, the evil consequences of +unnatural restraint and the denial of humanising enjoyments, will +all come from us, and none of them will stop with us. They will +spread far and wide. They always do; they always have done--just +like the pestilence. I understand so much, I think, at last." + +But the Master said again, "O you labouring men! How seldom do we +ever hear of you, except in connection with some trouble!" + +"Master," he replied, "I am Nobody, and little likely to be heard of +(nor yet much wanted to be heard of, perhaps), except when there is +some trouble. But it never begins with me, and it never can end +with me. As sure as Death, it comes down to me, and it goes up from +me." + +There was so much reason in what he said, that the Bigwig family, +getting wind of it, and being horribly frightened by the late +desolation, resolved to unite with him to do the things that were +right--at all events, so far as the said things were associated with +the direct prevention, humanly speaking, of another pestilence. +But, as their fear wore off, which it soon began to do, they resumed +their falling out among themselves, and did nothing. Consequently +the scourge appeared again--low down as before--and spread +avengingly upward as before, and carried off vast numbers of the +brawlers. But not a man among them ever admitted, if in the least +degree he ever perceived, that he had anything to do with it. + +So Nobody lived and died in the old, old, old way; and this, in the +main, is the whole of Nobody's story. + +Had he no name, you ask? Perhaps it was Legion. It matters little +what his name was. Let us call him Legion. + +If you were ever in the Belgian villages near the field of Waterloo, +you will have seen, in some quiet little church, a monument erected +by faithful companions in arms to the memory of Colonel A, Major B, +Captains C, D and E, Lieutenants F and G, Ensigns H, I and J, seven +non-commissioned officers, and one hundred and thirty rank and file, +who fell in the discharge of their duty on the memorable day. The +story of Nobody is the story of the rank and file of the earth. +They bear their share of the battle; they have their part in the +victory; they fall; they leave no name but in the mass. The march +of the proudest of us, leads to the dusty way by which they go. O! +Let us think of them this year at the Christmas fire, and not forget +them when it is burnt out. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Some Christmas Stories by Dickens + diff --git a/old/cdscs10.zip b/old/cdscs10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..98ec1cd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10.zip diff --git a/old/cdscs10p.pdf b/old/cdscs10p.pdf Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f9d6b7e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10p.pdf diff --git a/old/cdscs10p.zip b/old/cdscs10p.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3713920 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10p.zip diff --git a/old/cdscs10pf.pdf b/old/cdscs10pf.pdf Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b17b12 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10pf.pdf diff --git a/old/cdscs10pf.zip b/old/cdscs10pf.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0566991 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10pf.zip diff --git a/old/cdscs10t.tex b/old/cdscs10t.tex new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c709e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10t.tex @@ -0,0 +1,2368 @@ +% The Project Gutenberg Etext of Some Christmas Stories by Dickens +% #50 in our series by Charles Dickens +% +% +% Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +% the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! +% +% Please take a look at the important information in this header. +% We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +% electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. +% +% +% **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** +% +% **Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** +% +% *These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* +% +% Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +% further information is included below. We need your donations. +% +% +% Some Christmas Stories +% +% by Charles Dickens +% +% September, 1998 [Etext #1467] +% +% +% The Project Gutenberg Etext of Some Christmas Stories by Dickens +% ******This file should be named cdscs10.txt or cdscs10.zip****** +% +% Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, cdscs11.txt +% VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, cdscs10a.txt +% +% +% This etext was prepared from the 1911 Chapman and Hall Christmas +% Stories (Volume 1) edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk +% +% Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +% all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +% copyright notice is included. Therefore, we do NOT keep these books +% in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise. +% +% +% We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +% of the official release dates, for time for better editing. +% +% Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +% midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +% The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +% Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +% preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +% and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +% up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +% in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +% a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +% look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +% new copy has at least one byte more or less. +% +% +% Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) +% +% We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +% fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +% to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +% searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +% projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +% per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +% million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +% files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+ +% If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +% total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away. +% +% The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +% Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +% This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +% which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +% should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +% will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. +% +% +% We need your donations more than ever! +% +% +% All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +% tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +% Mellon University). +% +% For these and other matters, please mail to: +% +% Project Gutenberg +% P. O. Box 2782 +% Champaign, IL 61825 +% +% When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +% Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> +% +% We would prefer to send you this information by email +% (Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). +% +% ****** +% If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +% FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +% [Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] +% +% ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +% login: anonymous +% password: your@login +% cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 +% or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +% dir [to see files] +% get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +% GET INDEX?00.GUT +% for a list of books +% and +% GET NEW GUT for general information +% and +% MGET GUT* for newsletters. +% +% **Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +% (Three Pages) +% +% +% ***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +% Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +% They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +% your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +% someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +% fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +% disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +% you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. +% +% *BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +% By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +% etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +% this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +% a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +% sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +% you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +% medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. +% +% ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +% This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +% tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +% Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +% Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +% things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +% on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +% distribute it in the United States without permission and +% without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +% below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +% under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. +% +% To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +% efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +% works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +% medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +% things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +% corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +% intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +% disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +% codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. +% +% LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +% But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +% [1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +% etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +% liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +% legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +% UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +% INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +% OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +% POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. +% +% If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +% receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +% you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +% time to the person you received it from. If you received it +% on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +% such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +% copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +% choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +% receive it electronically. +% +% THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +% WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +% TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +% LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +% PARTICULAR PURPOSE. +% +% Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +% the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +% above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +% may have other legal rights. +% +% INDEMNITY +% You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +% officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +% and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +% indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +% [1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +% or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. +% +% DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +% You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +% disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +% "Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +% or: +% +% [1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this +% requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the +% etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, +% if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable +% binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, +% including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- +% cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as +% *EITHER*: +% +% [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and +% does *not* contain characters other than those +% intended by the author of the work, although tilde +% (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may +% be used to convey punctuation intended by the +% author, and additional characters may be used to +% indicate hypertext links; OR +% +% [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at +% no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent +% form by the program that displays the etext (as is +% the case, for instance, with most word processors); +% OR +% +% [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at +% no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the +% etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC +% or other equivalent proprietary form). +% +% [2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this +% "Small Print!" statement. +% +% [3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the +% net profits you derive calculated using the method you +% already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you +% don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are +% payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon +% University" within the 60 days following each +% date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) +% your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. +% +% WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +% The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +% scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +% free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +% you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +% Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". +% +% *END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + +\input gutenberg-toc2.tex + + + +% This etext was prepared from the 1911 Chapman and Hall Christmas +% Stories (Volume 1) edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + +\begin{document} + +% Some Short Christmas Stories by Charles Dickens +\gtitle{Some Short Christmas Stories} + +\gauthor{Charles Dickens} + +% Contents: +% +% A Christmas Tree +% What Christmas is as we Grow Older +% The Poor Relation's Story +% The Child's Story +% The Schoolboy's Story +% Nobody's Story + + + +\chapter{A Christmas Tree} + + + +I have been looking on, this evening, at a merry company of children +assembled round that pretty German toy, a Christmas Tree. The tree +was planted in the middle of a great round table, and towered high +above their heads. It was brilliantly lighted by a multitude of +little tapers; and everywhere sparkled and glittered with bright +objects. There were rosy-cheeked dolls, hiding behind the green +leaves; and there were real watches (with movable hands, at least, +and an endless capacity of being wound up) dangling from innumerable +twigs; there were French-polished tables, chairs, bedsteads, +wardrobes, eight-day clocks, and various other articles of domestic +furniture (wonderfully made, in tin, at Wolverhampton), perched +among the boughs, as if in preparation for some fairy housekeeping; +there were jolly, broad-faced little men, much more agreeable in +appearance than many real men---and no wonder, for their heads took +off, and showed them to be full of sugar-plums; there were fiddles +and drums; there were tambourines, books, work-boxes, paint-boxes, +sweetmeat-boxes, peep-show boxes, and all kinds of boxes; there were +trinkets for the elder girls, far brighter than any grown-up gold +and jewels; there were baskets and pincushions in all devices; there +were guns, swords, and banners; there were witches standing in +enchanted rings of pasteboard, to tell fortunes; there were +teetotums, humming-tops, needle-cases, pen-wipers, smelling-bottles, +conversation-cards, bouquet-holders; real fruit, made artificially +dazzling with gold leaf; imitation apples, pears, and walnuts, +crammed with surprises; in short, as a pretty child, before me, +delightedly whispered to another pretty child, her bosom friend, +``There was everything, and more.'' This motley collection of odd +objects, clustering on the tree like magic fruit, and flashing back +the bright looks directed towards it from every side---some of the +diamond-eyes admiring it were hardly on a level with the table, and +a few were languishing in timid wonder on the bosoms of pretty +mothers, aunts, and nurses---made a lively realisation of the fancies +of childhood; and set me thinking how all the trees that grow and +all the things that come into existence on the earth, have their +wild adornments at that well-remembered time. + +Being now at home again, and alone, the only person in the house +awake, my thoughts are drawn back, by a fascination which I do not +care to resist, to my own childhood. I begin to consider, what do +we all remember best upon the branches of the Christmas Tree of our +own young Christmas days, by which we climbed to real life. + +Straight, in the middle of the room, cramped in the freedom of its +growth by no encircling walls or soon-reached ceiling, a shadowy +tree arises; and, looking up into the dreamy brightness of its top---% +for I observe in this tree the singular property that it appears to +grow downward towards the earth---I look into my youngest Christmas +recollections! + +All toys at first, I find. Up yonder, among the green holly and red +berries, is the Tumbler with his hands in his pockets, who wouldn't +lie down, but whenever he was put upon the floor, persisted in +rolling his fat body about, until he rolled himself still, and +brought those lobster eyes of his to bear upon me---when I affected +to laugh very much, but in my heart of hearts was extremely doubtful +of him. Close beside him is that infernal snuff-box, out of which +there sprang a demoniacal Counsellor in a black gown, with an +obnoxious head of hair, and a red cloth mouth, wide open, who was +not to be endured on any terms, but could not be put away either; +for he used suddenly, in a highly magnified state, to fly out of +Mammoth Snuff-boxes in dreams, when least expected. Nor is the frog +with cobbler's wax on his tail, far off; for there was no knowing +where he wouldn't jump; and when he flew over the candle, and came +upon one's hand with that spotted back---red on a green ground---he +was horrible. The cardboard lady in a blue-silk skirt, who was +stood up against the candlestick to dance, and whom I see on the +same branch, was milder, and was beautiful; but I can't say as much +for the larger cardboard man, who used to be hung against the wall +and pulled by a string; there was a sinister expression in that nose +of his; and when he got his legs round his neck (which he very often +did), he was ghastly, and not a creature to be alone with. + +When did that dreadful Mask first look at me? Who put it on, and +why was I so frightened that the sight of it is an era in my life? +It is not a hideous visage in itself; it is even meant to be droll, +why then were its stolid features so intolerable? Surely not +because it hid the wearer's face. An apron would have done as much; +and though I should have preferred even the apron away, it would not +have been absolutely insupportable, like the mask. Was it the +immovability of the mask? The doll's face was immovable, but I was +not afraid of \emph{her}. Perhaps that fixed and set change coming over a +real face, infused into my quickened heart some remote suggestion +and dread of the universal change that is to come on every face, and +make it still? Nothing reconciled me to it. No drummers, from whom +proceeded a melancholy chirping on the turning of a handle; no +regiment of soldiers, with a mute band, taken out of a box, and +fitted, one by one, upon a stiff and lazy little set of lazy-tongs; +no old woman, made of wires and a brown-paper composition, cutting +up a pie for two small children; could give me a permanent comfort, +for a long time. Nor was it any satisfaction to be shown the Mask, +and see that it was made of paper, or to have it locked up and be +assured that no one wore it. The mere recollection of that fixed +face, the mere knowledge of its existence anywhere, was sufficient +to awake me in the night all perspiration and horror, with, ``O I +know it's coming! O the mask!'' + +I never wondered what the dear old donkey with the panniers---there +he is! was made of, then! His hide was real to the touch, I +recollect. And the great black horse with the round red spots all +over him---the horse that I could even get upon---I never wondered +what had brought him to that strange condition, or thought that such +a horse was not commonly seen at Newmarket. The four horses of no +colour, next to him, that went into the waggon of cheeses, and could +be taken out and stabled under the piano, appear to have bits of +fur-tippet for their tails, and other bits for their manes, and to +stand on pegs instead of legs, but it was not so when they were +brought home for a Christmas present. They were all right, then; +neither was their harness unceremoniously nailed into their chests, +as appears to be the case now. The tinkling works of the music-% +cart, I \emph{did} find out, to be made of quill tooth-picks and wire; and +I always thought that little tumbler in his shirt sleeves, +perpetually swarming up one side of a wooden frame, and coming down, +head foremost, on the other, rather a weak-minded person---though +good-natured; but the Jacob's Ladder, next him, made of little +squares of red wood, that went flapping and clattering over one +another, each developing a different picture, and the whole +enlivened by small bells, was a mighty marvel and a great delight. + +Ah! The Doll's house!---of which I was not proprietor, but where I +visited. I don't admire the Houses of Parliament half so much as +that stone-fronted mansion with real glass windows, and door-steps, +and a real balcony---greener than I ever see now, except at watering +places; and even they afford but a poor imitation. And though it +\emph{did} open all at once, the entire house-front (which was a blow, I +admit, as cancelling the fiction of a staircase), it was but to shut +it up again, and I could believe. Even open, there were three +distinct rooms in it: a sitting-room and bed-room, elegantly +furnished, and best of all, a kitchen, with uncommonly soft fire-% +irons, a plentiful assortment of diminutive utensils---oh, the +warming-pan!---and a tin man-cook in profile, who was always going to +fry two fish. What Barmecide justice have I done to the noble +feasts wherein the set of wooden platters figured, each with its own +peculiar delicacy, as a ham or turkey, glued tight on to it, and +garnished with something green, which I recollect as moss! Could +all the Temperance Societies of these later days, united, give me +such a tea-drinking as I have had through the means of yonder little +set of blue crockery, which really would hold liquid (it ran out of +the small wooden cask, I recollect, and tasted of matches), and +which made tea, nectar. And if the two legs of the ineffectual +little sugar-tongs did tumble over one another, and want purpose, +like Punch's hands, what does it matter? And if I did once shriek +out, as a poisoned child, and strike the fashionable company with +consternation, by reason of having drunk a little teaspoon, +inadvertently dissolved in too hot tea, I was never the worse for +it, except by a powder! + +Upon the next branches of the tree, lower down, hard by the green +roller and miniature gardening-tools, how thick the books begin to +hang. Thin books, in themselves, at first, but many of them, and +with deliciously smooth covers of bright red or green. What fat +black letters to begin with! ``A was an archer, and shot at a frog.'' +Of course he was. He was an apple-pie also, and there he is! He +was a good many things in his time, was A, and so were most of his +friends, except X, who had so little versatility, that I never knew +him to get beyond Xerxes or Xantippe---like Y, who was always +confined to a Yacht or a Yew Tree; and Z condemned for ever to be a +Zebra or a Zany. But, now, the very tree itself changes, and +becomes a bean-stalk---the marvellous bean-stalk up which Jack +climbed to the Giant's house! And now, those dreadfully +interesting, double-headed giants, with their clubs over their +shoulders, begin to stride along the boughs in a perfect throng, +dragging knights and ladies home for dinner by the hair of their +heads. And Jack---how noble, with his sword of sharpness, and his +shoes of swiftness! Again those old meditations come upon me as I +gaze up at him; and I debate within myself whether there was more +than one Jack (which I am loth to believe possible), or only one +genuine original admirable Jack, who achieved all the recorded +exploits. + +Good for Christmas-time is the ruddy colour of the cloak, in which---% +the tree making a forest of itself for her to trip through, with her +basket---Little Red Riding-Hood comes to me one Christmas Eve to give +me information of the cruelty and treachery of that dissembling Wolf +who ate her grandmother, without making any impression on his +appetite, and then ate her, after making that ferocious joke about +his teeth. She was my first love. I felt that if I could have +married Little Red Riding-Hood, I should have known perfect bliss. +But, it was not to be; and there was nothing for it but to look out +the Wolf in the Noah's Ark there, and put him late in the procession +on the table, as a monster who was to be degraded. O the wonderful +Noah's Ark! It was not found seaworthy when put in a washing-tub, +and the animals were crammed in at the roof, and needed to have +their legs well shaken down before they could be got in, even there---% +and then, ten to one but they began to tumble out at the door, +which was but imperfectly fastened with a wire latch---but what was +\emph{that} against it! Consider the noble fly, a size or two smaller than +the elephant: the lady-bird, the butterfly---all triumphs of art! +Consider the goose, whose feet were so small, and whose balance was +so indifferent, that he usually tumbled forward, and knocked down +all the animal creation. Consider Noah and his family, like idiotic +tobacco-stoppers; and how the leopard stuck to warm little fingers; +and how the tails of the larger animals used gradually to resolve +themselves into frayed bits of string! + +Hush! Again a forest, and somebody up in a tree---not Robin Hood, +not Valentine, not the Yellow Dwarf (I have passed him and all +Mother Bunch's wonders, without mention), but an Eastern King with a +glittering scimitar and turban. By Allah! two Eastern Kings, for I +see another, looking over his shoulder! Down upon the grass, at the +tree's foot, lies the full length of a coal-black Giant, stretched +asleep, with his head in a lady's lap; and near them is a glass box, +fastened with four locks of shining steel, in which he keeps the +lady prisoner when he is awake. I see the four keys at his girdle +now. The lady makes signs to the two kings in the tree, who softly +descend. It is the setting-in of the bright Arabian Nights. + +Oh, now all common things become uncommon and enchanted to me. All +lamps are wonderful; all rings are talismans. Common flower-pots +are full of treasure, with a little earth scattered on the top; +trees are for Ali Baba to hide in; beef-steaks are to throw down +into the Valley of Diamonds, that the precious stones may stick to +them, and be carried by the eagles to their nests, whence the +traders, with loud cries, will scare them. Tarts are made, +according to the recipe of the Vizier's son of Bussorah, who turned +pastrycook after he was set down in his drawers at the gate of +Damascus; cobblers are all Mustaphas, and in the habit of sewing up +people cut into four pieces, to whom they are taken blind-fold. + +Any iron ring let into stone is the entrance to a cave which only +waits for the magician, and the little fire, and the necromancy, +that will make the earth shake. All the dates imported come from +the same tree as that unlucky date, with whose shell the merchant +knocked out the eye of the genie's invisible son. All olives are of +the stock of that fresh fruit, concerning which the Commander of the +Faithful overheard the boy conduct the fictitious trial of the +fraudulent olive merchant; all apples are akin to the apple +purchased (with two others) from the Sultan's gardener for three +sequins, and which the tall black slave stole from the child. All +dogs are associated with the dog, really a transformed man, who +jumped upon the baker's counter, and put his paw on the piece of bad +money. All rice recalls the rice which the awful lady, who was a +ghoule, could only peck by grains, because of her nightly feasts in +the burial-place. My very rocking-horse,---there he is, with his +nostrils turned completely inside-out, indicative of Blood!---should +have a peg in his neck, by virtue thereof to fly away with me, as +the wooden horse did with the Prince of Persia, in the sight of all +his father's Court. + +Yes, on every object that I recognise among those upper branches of +my Christmas Tree, I see this fairy light! When I wake in bed, at +daybreak, on the cold, dark, winter mornings, the white snow dimly +beheld, outside, through the frost on the window-pane, I hear +Dinarzade. ``Sister, sister, if you are yet awake, I pray you finish +the history of the Young King of the Black Islands.'' Scheherazade +replies, ``If my lord the Sultan will suffer me to live another day, +sister, I will not only finish that, but tell you a more wonderful +story yet.'' Then, the gracious Sultan goes out, giving no orders +for the execution, and we all three breathe again. + +At this height of my tree I begin to see, cowering among the leaves---% +it may be born of turkey, or of pudding, or mince pie, or of these +many fancies, jumbled with Robinson Crusoe on his desert island, +Philip Quarll among the monkeys, Sandford and Merton with Mr.\ % +Barlow, Mother Bunch, and the Mask---or it may be the result of +indigestion, assisted by imagination and over-doctoring---a +prodigious nightmare. It is so exceedingly indistinct, that I don't +know why it's frightful---but I know it is. I can only make out that +it is an immense array of shapeless things, which appear to be +planted on a vast exaggeration of the lazy-tongs that used to bear +the toy soldiers, and to be slowly coming close to my eyes, and +receding to an immeasurable distance. When it comes closest, it is +worse. In connection with it I descry remembrances of winter nights +incredibly long; of being sent early to bed, as a punishment for +some small offence, and waking in two hours, with a sensation of +having been asleep two nights; of the laden hopelessness of morning +ever dawning; and the oppression of a weight of remorse. + +And now, I see a wonderful row of little lights rise smoothly out of +the ground, before a vast green curtain. Now, a bell rings---a magic +bell, which still sounds in my ears unlike all other bells---and +music plays, amidst a buzz of voices, and a fragrant smell of +orange-peel and oil. Anon, the magic bell commands the music to +cease, and the great green curtain rolls itself up majestically, and +The Play begins! The devoted dog of Montargis avenges the death of +his master, foully murdered in the Forest of Bondy; and a humorous +Peasant with a red nose and a very little hat, whom I take from this +hour forth to my bosom as a friend (I think he was a Waiter or an +Hostler at a village Inn, but many years have passed since he and I +have met), remarks that the sassigassity of that dog is indeed +surprising; and evermore this jocular conceit will live in my +remembrance fresh and unfading, overtopping all possible jokes, unto +the end of time. Or now, I learn with bitter tears how poor Jane +Shore, dressed all in white, and with her brown hair hanging down, +went starving through the streets; or how George Barnwell killed the +worthiest uncle that ever man had, and was afterwards so sorry for +it that he ought to have been let off. Comes swift to comfort me, +the Pantomime---stupendous Phenomenon!---when clowns are shot from +loaded mortars into the great chandelier, bright constellation that +it is; when Harlequins, covered all over with scales of pure gold, +twist and sparkle, like amazing fish; when Pantaloon (whom I deem it +no irreverence to compare in my own mind to my grandfather) puts +red-hot pokers in his pocket, and cries ``Here's somebody coming!'' or +taxes the Clown with petty larceny, by saying, ``Now, I sawed you do +it!'' when Everything is capable, with the greatest ease, of being +changed into Anything; and ``Nothing is, but thinking makes it so.'' +Now, too, I perceive my first experience of the dreary sensation---% +often to return in after-life---of being unable, next day, to get +back to the dull, settled world; of wanting to live for ever in the +bright atmosphere I have quitted; of doting on the little Fairy, +with the wand like a celestial Barber's Pole, and pining for a Fairy +immortality along with her. Ah, she comes back, in many shapes, as +my eye wanders down the branches of my Christmas Tree, and goes as +often, and has never yet stayed by me! + +Out of this delight springs the toy-theatre,---there it is, with its +familiar proscenium, and ladies in feathers, in the boxes!---and all +its attendant occupation with paste and glue, and gum, and water +colours, in the getting-up of The Miller and his Men, and Elizabeth, +or the Exile of Siberia. In spite of a few besetting accidents and +failures (particularly an unreasonable disposition in the +respectable Kelmar, and some others, to become faint in the legs, +and double up, at exciting points of the drama), a teeming world of +fancies so suggestive and all-embracing, that, far below it on my +Christmas Tree, I see dark, dirty, real Theatres in the day-time, +adorned with these associations as with the freshest garlands of the +rarest flowers, and charming me yet. + +But hark! The Waits are playing, and they break my childish sleep! +What images do I associate with the Christmas music as I see them +set forth on the Christmas Tree? Known before all the others, +keeping far apart from all the others, they gather round my little +bed. An angel, speaking to a group of shepherds in a field; some +travellers, with eyes uplifted, following a star; a baby in a +manger; a child in a spacious temple, talking with grave men; a +solemn figure, with a mild and beautiful face, raising a dead girl +by the hand; again, near a city gate, calling back the son of a +widow, on his bier, to life; a crowd of people looking through the +opened roof of a chamber where he sits, and letting down a sick +person on a bed, with ropes; the same, in a tempest, walking on the +water to a ship; again, on a sea-shore, teaching a great multitude; +again, with a child upon his knee, and other children round; again, +restoring sight to the blind, speech to the dumb, hearing to the +deaf, health to the sick, strength to the lame, knowledge to the +ignorant; again, dying upon a Cross, watched by armed soldiers, a +thick darkness coming on, the earth beginning to shake, and only one +voice heard, ``Forgive them, for they know not what they do.'' + +Still, on the lower and maturer branches of the Tree, Christmas +associations cluster thick. School-books shut up; Ovid and Virgil +silenced; the Rule of Three, with its cool impertinent inquiries, +long disposed of; Terence and Plautus acted no more, in an arena of +huddled desks and forms, all chipped, and notched, and inked; +cricket-bats, stumps, and balls, left higher up, with the smell of +trodden grass and the softened noise of shouts in the evening air; +the tree is still fresh, still gay. If I no more come home at +Christmas-time, there will be boys and girls (thank Heaven!) while +the World lasts; and they do! Yonder they dance and play upon the +branches of my Tree, God bless them, merrily, and my heart dances +and plays too! + +And I do come home at Christmas. We all do, or we all should. We +all come home, or ought to come home, for a short holiday---the +longer, the better---from the great boarding-school, where we are for +ever working at our arithmetical slates, to take, and give a rest. +As to going a visiting, where can we not go, if we will; where have +we not been, when we would; starting our fancy from our Christmas +Tree! + +Away into the winter prospect. There are many such upon the tree! +On, by low-lying, misty grounds, through fens and fogs, up long +hills, winding dark as caverns between thick plantations, almost +shutting out the sparkling stars; so, out on broad heights, until we +stop at last, with sudden silence, at an avenue. The gate-bell has +a deep, half-awful sound in the frosty air; the gate swings open on +its hinges; and, as we drive up to a great house, the glancing +lights grow larger in the windows, and the opposing rows of trees +seem to fall solemnly back on either side, to give us place. At +intervals, all day, a frightened hare has shot across this whitened +turf; or the distant clatter of a herd of deer trampling the hard +frost, has, for the minute, crushed the silence too. Their watchful +eyes beneath the fern may be shining now, if we could see them, like +the icy dewdrops on the leaves; but they are still, and all is +still. And so, the lights growing larger, and the trees falling +back before us, and closing up again behind us, as if to forbid +retreat, we come to the house. + +There is probably a smell of roasted chestnuts and other good +comfortable things all the time, for we are telling Winter Stories---% +Ghost Stories, or more shame for us---round the Christmas fire; and +we have never stirred, except to draw a little nearer to it. But, +no matter for that. We came to the house, and it is an old house, +full of great chimneys where wood is burnt on ancient dogs upon the +hearth, and grim portraits (some of them with grim legends, too) +lower distrustfully from the oaken panels of the walls. We are a +middle-aged nobleman, and we make a generous supper with our host +and hostess and their guests---it being Christmas-time, and the old +house full of company---and then we go to bed. Our room is a very +old room. It is hung with tapestry. We don't like the portrait of +a cavalier in green, over the fireplace. There are great black +beams in the ceiling, and there is a great black bedstead, supported +at the foot by two great black figures, who seem to have come off a +couple of tombs in the old baronial church in the park, for our +particular accommodation. But, we are not a superstitious nobleman, +and we don't mind. Well! we dismiss our servant, lock the door, and +sit before the fire in our dressing-gown, musing about a great many +things. At length we go to bed. Well! we can't sleep. We toss and +tumble, and can't sleep. The embers on the hearth burn fitfully and +make the room look ghostly. We can't help peeping out over the +counterpane, at the two black figures and the cavalier---that wicked-% +looking cavalier---in green. In the flickering light they seem to +advance and retire: which, though we are not by any means a +superstitious nobleman, is not agreeable. Well! we get nervous---% +more and more nervous. We say ``This is very foolish, but we can't +stand this; we'll pretend to be ill, and knock up somebody.'' Well! +we are just going to do it, when the locked door opens, and there +comes in a young woman, deadly pale, and with long fair hair, who +glides to the fire, and sits down in the chair we have left there, +wringing her hands. Then, we notice that her clothes are wet. Our +tongue cleaves to the roof of our mouth, and we can't speak; but, we +observe her accurately. Her clothes are wet; her long hair is +dabbled with moist mud; she is dressed in the fashion of two hundred +years ago; and she has at her girdle a bunch of rusty keys. Well! +there she sits, and we can't even faint, we are in such a state +about it. Presently she gets up, and tries all the locks in the +room with the rusty keys, which won't fit one of them; then, she +fixes her eyes on the portrait of the cavalier in green, and says, +in a low, terrible voice, ``The stags know it!'' After that, she +wrings her hands again, passes the bedside, and goes out at the +door. We hurry on our dressing-gown, seize our pistols (we always +travel with pistols), and are following, when we find the door +locked. We turn the key, look out into the dark gallery; no one +there. We wander away, and try to find our servant. Can't be done. +We pace the gallery till daybreak; then return to our deserted room, +fall asleep, and are awakened by our servant (nothing ever haunts +him) and the shining sun. Well! we make a wretched breakfast, and +all the company say we look queer. After breakfast, we go over the +house with our host, and then we take him to the portrait of the +cavalier in green, and then it all comes out. He was false to a +young housekeeper once attached to that family, and famous for her +beauty, who drowned herself in a pond, and whose body was +discovered, after a long time, because the stags refused to drink of +the water. Since which, it has been whispered that she traverses +the house at midnight (but goes especially to that room where the +cavalier in green was wont to sleep), trying the old locks with the +rusty keys. Well! we tell our host of what we have seen, and a +shade comes over his features, and he begs it may be hushed up; and +so it is. But, it's all true; and we said so, before we died (we +are dead now) to many responsible people. + +There is no end to the old houses, with resounding galleries, and +dismal state-bedchambers, and haunted wings shut up for many years, +through which we may ramble, with an agreeable creeping up our back, +and encounter any number of ghosts, but (it is worthy of remark +perhaps) reducible to a very few general types and classes; for, +ghosts have little originality, and ``walk'' in a beaten track. Thus, +it comes to pass, that a certain room in a certain old hall, where a +certain bad lord, baronet, knight, or gentleman, shot himself, has +certain planks in the floor from which the blood \emph{will} \emph{not} be taken +out. You may scrape and scrape, as the present owner has done, or +plane and plane, as his father did, or scrub and scrub, as his +grandfather did, or burn and burn with strong acids, as his great-% +grandfather did, but, there the blood will still be---no redder and +no paler---no more and no less---always just the same. Thus, in such +another house there is a haunted door, that never will keep open; or +another door that never will keep shut, or a haunted sound of a +spinning-wheel, or a hammer, or a footstep, or a cry, or a sigh, or +a horse's tramp, or the rattling of a chain. Or else, there is a +turret-clock, which, at the midnight hour, strikes thirteen when the +head of the family is going to die; or a shadowy, immovable black +carriage which at such a time is always seen by somebody, waiting +near the great gates in the stable-yard. Or thus, it came to pass +how Lady Mary went to pay a visit at a large wild house in the +Scottish Highlands, and, being fatigued with her long journey, +retired to bed early, and innocently said, next morning, at the +breakfast-table, ``How odd, to have so late a party last night, in +this remote place, and not to tell me of it, before I went to bed!'' +Then, every one asked Lady Mary what she meant? Then, Lady Mary +replied, ``Why, all night long, the carriages were driving round and +round the terrace, underneath my window!'' Then, the owner of the +house turned pale, and so did his Lady, and Charles Macdoodle of +Macdoodle signed to Lady Mary to say no more, and every one was +silent. After breakfast, Charles Macdoodle told Lady Mary that it +was a tradition in the family that those rumbling carriages on the +terrace betokened death. And so it proved, for, two months +afterwards, the Lady of the mansion died. And Lady Mary, who was a +Maid of Honour at Court, often told this story to the old Queen +Charlotte; by this token that the old King always said, ``Eh, eh? +What, what? Ghosts, ghosts? No such thing, no such thing!'' And +never left off saying so, until he went to bed. + +Or, a friend of somebody's whom most of us know, when he was a young +man at college, had a particular friend, with whom he made the +compact that, if it were possible for the Spirit to return to this +earth after its separation from the body, he of the twain who first +died, should reappear to the other. In course of time, this compact +was forgotten by our friend; the two young men having progressed in +life, and taken diverging paths that were wide asunder. But, one +night, many years afterwards, our friend being in the North of +England, and staying for the night in an inn, on the Yorkshire +Moors, happened to look out of bed; and there, in the moonlight, +leaning on a bureau near the window, steadfastly regarding him, saw +his old college friend! The appearance being solemnly addressed, +replied, in a kind of whisper, but very audibly, ``Do not come near +me. I am dead. I am here to redeem my promise. I come from +another world, but may not disclose its secrets!'' Then, the whole +form becoming paler, melted, as it were, into the moonlight, and +faded away. + +Or, there was the daughter of the first occupier of the picturesque +Elizabethan house, so famous in our neighbourhood. You have heard +about her? No! Why, \emph{she} went out one summer evening at twilight, +when she was a beautiful girl, just seventeen years of age, to +gather flowers in the garden; and presently came running, terrified, +into the hall to her father, saying, ``Oh, dear father, I have met +myself!'' He took her in his arms, and told her it was fancy, but +she said, ``Oh no! I met myself in the broad walk, and I was pale +and gathering withered flowers, and I turned my head, and held them +up!'' And, that night, she died; and a picture of her story was +begun, though never finished, and they say it is somewhere in the +house to this day, with its face to the wall. + +Or, the uncle of my brother's wife was riding home on horseback, one +mellow evening at sunset, when, in a green lane close to his own +house, he saw a man standing before him, in the very centre of a +narrow way. ``Why does that man in the cloak stand there!'' he +thought. ``Does he want me to ride over him?'' But the figure never +moved. He felt a strange sensation at seeing it so still, but +slackened his trot and rode forward. When he was so close to it, as +almost to touch it with his stirrup, his horse shied, and the figure +glided up the bank, in a curious, unearthly manner---backward, and +without seeming to use its feet---and was gone. The uncle of my +brother's wife, exclaiming, ``Good Heaven! It's my cousin Harry, +from Bombay!'' put spurs to his horse, which was suddenly in a +profuse sweat, and, wondering at such strange behaviour, dashed +round to the front of his house. There, he saw the same figure, +just passing in at the long French window of the drawing-room, +opening on the ground. He threw his bridle to a servant, and +hastened in after it. His sister was sitting there, alone. ``Alice, +where's my cousin Harry?'' ``Your cousin Harry, John?'' ``Yes. From +Bombay. I met him in the lane just now, and saw him enter here, +this instant.'' Not a creature had been seen by any one; and in that +hour and minute, as it afterwards appeared, this cousin died in +India. + +Or, it was a certain sensible old maiden lady, who died at ninety-% +nine, and retained her faculties to the last, who really did see the +Orphan Boy; a story which has often been incorrectly told, but, of +which the real truth is this---because it is, in fact, a story +belonging to our family---and she was a connexion of our family. +When she was about forty years of age, and still an uncommonly fine +woman (her lover died young, which was the reason why she never +married, though she had many offers), she went to stay at a place in +Kent, which her brother, an Indian-Merchant, had newly bought. +There was a story that this place had once been held in trust by the +guardian of a young boy; who was himself the next heir, and who +killed the young boy by harsh and cruel treatment. She knew nothing +of that. It has been said that there was a Cage in her bedroom in +which the guardian used to put the boy. There was no such thing. +There was only a closet. She went to bed, made no alarm whatever in +the night, and in the morning said composedly to her maid when she +came in, ``Who is the pretty forlorn-looking child who has been +peeping out of that closet all night?'' The maid replied by giving a +loud scream, and instantly decamping. She was surprised; but she +was a woman of remarkable strength of mind, and she dressed herself +and went downstairs, and closeted herself with her brother. ``Now, +Walter,'' she said, ``I have been disturbed all night by a pretty, +forlorn-looking boy, who has been constantly peeping out of that +closet in my room, which I can't open. This is some trick.'' ``I am +afraid not, Charlotte,'' said he, ``for it is the legend of the house. +It is the Orphan Boy. What did he do?'' ``He opened the door +softly,'' said she, ``and peeped out. Sometimes, he came a step or +two into the room. Then, I called to him, to encourage him, and he +shrunk, and shuddered, and crept in again, and shut the door.'' ``The +closet has no communication, Charlotte,'' said her brother, ``with any +other part of the house, and it's nailed up.'' This was undeniably +true, and it took two carpenters a whole forenoon to get it open, +for examination. Then, she was satisfied that she had seen the +Orphan Boy. But, the wild and terrible part of the story is, that +he was also seen by three of her brother's sons, in succession, who +all died young. On the occasion of each child being taken ill, he +came home in a heat, twelve hours before, and said, Oh, Mamma, he +had been playing under a particular oak-tree, in a certain meadow, +with a strange boy---a pretty, forlorn-looking boy, who was very +timid, and made signs! From fatal experience, the parents came to +know that this was the Orphan Boy, and that the course of that child +whom he chose for his little playmate was surely run. + +Legion is the name of the German castles, where we sit up alone to +wait for the Spectre---where we are shown into a room, made +comparatively cheerful for our reception---where we glance round at +the shadows, thrown on the blank walls by the crackling fire---where +we feel very lonely when the village innkeeper and his pretty +daughter have retired, after laying down a fresh store of wood upon +the hearth, and setting forth on the small table such supper-cheer +as a cold roast capon, bread, grapes, and a flask of old Rhine wine---% +where the reverberating doors close on their retreat, one after +another, like so many peals of sullen thunder---and where, about the +small hours of the night, we come into the knowledge of divers +supernatural mysteries. Legion is the name of the haunted German +students, in whose society we draw yet nearer to the fire, while the +schoolboy in the corner opens his eyes wide and round, and flies off +the footstool he has chosen for his seat, when the door accidentally +blows open. Vast is the crop of such fruit, shining on our +Christmas Tree; in blossom, almost at the very top; ripening all +down the boughs! + +Among the later toys and fancies hanging there---as idle often and +less pure---be the images once associated with the sweet old Waits, +the softened music in the night, ever unalterable! Encircled by the +social thoughts of Christmas-time, still let the benignant figure of +my childhood stand unchanged! In every cheerful image and +suggestion that the season brings, may the bright star that rested +above the poor roof, be the star of all the Christian World! A +moment's pause, O vanishing tree, of which the lower boughs are dark +to me as yet, and let me look once more! I know there are blank +spaces on thy branches, where eyes that I have loved have shone and +smiled; from which they are departed. But, far above, I see the +raiser of the dead girl, and the Widow's Son; and God is good! If +Age be hiding for me in the unseen portion of thy downward growth, O +may I, with a grey head, turn a child's heart to that figure yet, +and a child's trustfulness and confidence! + +Now, the tree is decorated with bright merriment, and song, and +dance, and cheerfulness. And they are welcome. Innocent and +welcome be they ever held, beneath the branches of the Christmas +Tree, which cast no gloomy shadow! But, as it sinks into the +ground, I hear a whisper going through the leaves. ``This, in +commemoration of the law of love and kindness, mercy and compassion. +This, in remembrance of Me!'' + + + +\chapter{What Christmas Is As We Grow Older} + + + +Time was, with most of us, when Christmas Day encircling all our +limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or +seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; +grouped everything and every one around the Christmas fire; and made +the little picture shining in our bright young eyes, complete. + +Time came, perhaps, all so soon, when our thoughts over-leaped that +narrow boundary; when there was some one (very dear, we thought +then, very beautiful, and absolutely perfect) wanting to the fulness +of our happiness; when we were wanting too (or we thought so, which +did just as well) at the Christmas hearth by which that some one +sat; and when we intertwined with every wreath and garland of our +life that some one's name. + +That was the time for the bright visionary Christmases which have +long arisen from us to show faintly, after summer rain, in the +palest edges of the rainbow! That was the time for the beatified +enjoyment of the things that were to be, and never were, and yet the +things that were so real in our resolute hope that it would be hard +to say, now, what realities achieved since, have been stronger! + +What! Did that Christmas never really come when we and the +priceless pearl who was our young choice were received, after the +happiest of totally impossible marriages, by the two united families +previously at daggers---drawn on our account? When brothers and +sisters-in-law who had always been rather cool to us before our +relationship was effected, perfectly doted on us, and when fathers +and mothers overwhelmed us with unlimited incomes? Was that +Christmas dinner never really eaten, after which we arose, and +generously and eloquently rendered honour to our late rival, present +in the company, then and there exchanging friendship and +forgiveness, and founding an attachment, not to be surpassed in +Greek or Roman story, which subsisted until death? Has that same +rival long ceased to care for that same priceless pearl, and married +for money, and become usurious? Above all, do we really know, now, +that we should probably have been miserable if we had won and worn +the pearl, and that we are better without her? + +That Christmas when we had recently achieved so much fame; when we +had been carried in triumph somewhere, for doing something great and +good; when we had won an honoured and ennobled name, and arrived and +were received at home in a shower of tears of joy; is it possible +that \emph{that} Christmas has not come yet? + +And is our life here, at the best, so constituted that, pausing as +we advance at such a noticeable mile-stone in the track as this +great birthday, we look back on the things that never were, as +naturally and full as gravely as on the things that have been and +are gone, or have been and still are? If it be so, and so it seems +to be, must we come to the conclusion that life is little better +than a dream, and little worth the loves and strivings that we crowd +into it? + +No! Far be such miscalled philosophy from us, dear Reader, on +Christmas Day! Nearer and closer to our hearts be the Christmas +spirit, which is the spirit of active usefulness, perseverance, +cheerful discharge of duty, kindness and forbearance! It is in the +last virtues especially, that we are, or should be, strengthened by +the unaccomplished visions of our youth; for, who shall say that +they are not our teachers to deal gently even with the impalpable +nothings of the earth! + +Therefore, as we grow older, let us be more thankful that the circle +of our Christmas associations and of the lessons that they bring, +expands! Let us welcome every one of them, and summon them to take +their places by the Christmas hearth. + +Welcome, old aspirations, glittering creatures of an ardent fancy, +to your shelter underneath the holly! We know you, and have not +outlived you yet. Welcome, old projects and old loves, however +fleeting, to your nooks among the steadier lights that burn around +us. Welcome, all that was ever real to our hearts; and for the +earnestness that made you real, thanks to Heaven! Do we build no +Christmas castles in the clouds now? Let our thoughts, fluttering +like butterflies among these flowers of children, bear witness! +Before this boy, there stretches out a Future, brighter than we ever +looked on in our old romantic time, but bright with honour and with +truth. Around this little head on which the sunny curls lie heaped, +the graces sport, as prettily, as airily, as when there was no +scythe within the reach of Time to shear away the curls of our +first-love. Upon another girl's face near it---placider but smiling +bright---a quiet and contented little face, we see Home fairly +written. Shining from the word, as rays shine from a star, we see +how, when our graves are old, other hopes than ours are young, other +hearts than ours are moved; how other ways are smoothed; how other +happiness blooms, ripens, and decays---no, not decays, for other +homes and other bands of children, not yet in being nor for ages yet +to be, arise, and bloom and ripen to the end of all! + +Welcome, everything! Welcome, alike what has been, and what never +was, and what we hope may be, to your shelter underneath the holly, +to your places round the Christmas fire, where what is sits open-% +hearted! In yonder shadow, do we see obtruding furtively upon the +blaze, an enemy's face? By Christmas Day we do forgive him! If the +injury he has done us may admit of such companionship, let him come +here and take his place. If otherwise, unhappily, let him go hence, +assured that we will never injure nor accuse him. + +On this day we shut out Nothing! + +``Pause,'' says a low voice. ``Nothing? Think!'' + +``On Christmas Day, we will shut out from our fireside, Nothing.'' + +``Not the shadow of a vast City where the withered leaves are lying +deep?'' the voice replies. ``Not the shadow that darkens the whole +globe? Not the shadow of the City of the Dead?'' + +Not even that. Of all days in the year, we will turn our faces +towards that City upon Christmas Day, and from its silent hosts +bring those we loved, among us. City of the Dead, in the blessed +name wherein we are gathered together at this time, and in the +Presence that is here among us according to the promise, we will +receive, and not dismiss, thy people who are dear to us! + +Yes. We can look upon these children angels that alight, so +solemnly, so beautifully among the living children by the fire, and +can bear to think how they departed from us. Entertaining angels +unawares, as the Patriarchs did, the playful children are +unconscious of their guests; but we can see them---can see a radiant +arm around one favourite neck, as if there were a tempting of that +child away. Among the celestial figures there is one, a poor +misshapen boy on earth, of a glorious beauty now, of whom his dying +mother said it grieved her much to leave him here, alone, for so +many years as it was likely would elapse before he came to her---% +being such a little child. But he went quickly, and was laid upon +her breast, and in her hand she leads him. + +There was a gallant boy, who fell, far away, upon a burning sand +beneath a burning sun, and said, ``Tell them at home, with my last +love, how much I could have wished to kiss them once, but that I +died contented and had done my duty!'' Or there was another, over +whom they read the words, ``Therefore we commit his body to the +deep,'' and so consigned him to the lonely ocean and sailed on. Or +there was another, who lay down to his rest in the dark shadow of +great forests, and, on earth, awoke no more. O shall they not, from +sand and sea and forest, be brought home at such a time! + +There was a dear girl---almost a woman---never to be one---who made a +mourning Christmas in a house of joy, and went her trackless way to +the silent City. Do we recollect her, worn out, faintly whispering +what could not be heard, and falling into that last sleep for +weariness? O look upon her now! O look upon her beauty, her +serenity, her changeless youth, her happiness! The daughter of +Jairus was recalled to life, to die; but she, more blest, has heard +the same voice, saying unto her, ``Arise for ever!'' + +We had a friend who was our friend from early days, with whom we +often pictured the changes that were to come upon our lives, and +merrily imagined how we would speak, and walk, and think, and talk, +when we came to be old. His destined habitation in the City of the +Dead received him in his prime. Shall he be shut out from our +Christmas remembrance? Would his love have so excluded us? Lost +friend, lost child, lost parent, sister, brother, husband, wife, we +will not so discard you! You shall hold your cherished places in +our Christmas hearts, and by our Christmas fires; and in the season +of immortal hope, and on the birthday of immortal mercy, we will +shut out Nothing! + +The winter sun goes down over town and village; on the sea it makes +a rosy path, as if the Sacred tread were fresh upon the water. A +few more moments, and it sinks, and night comes on, and lights begin +to sparkle in the prospect. On the hill-side beyond the +shapelessly-diffused town, and in the quiet keeping of the trees +that gird the village-steeple, remembrances are cut in stone, +planted in common flowers, growing in grass, entwined with lowly +brambles around many a mound of earth. In town and village, there +are doors and windows closed against the weather, there are flaming +logs heaped high, there are joyful faces, there is healthy music of +voices. Be all ungentleness and harm excluded from the temples of +the Household Gods, but be those remembrances admitted with tender +encouragement! They are of the time and all its comforting and +peaceful reassurances; and of the history that re-united even upon +earth the living and the dead; and of the broad beneficence and +goodness that too many men have tried to tear to narrow shreds. + + + +\chapter{The Poor Relation's Story} + + + +He was very reluctant to take precedence of so many respected +members of the family, by beginning the round of stories they were +to relate as they sat in a goodly circle by the Christmas fire; and +he modestly suggested that it would be more correct if ``John our +esteemed host'' (whose health he begged to drink) would have the +kindness to begin. For as to himself, he said, he was so little +used to lead the way that really--- But as they all cried out here, +that he must begin, and agreed with one voice that he might, could, +would, and should begin, he left off rubbing his hands, and took his +legs out from under his armchair, and did begin. + +I have no doubt (said the poor relation) that I shall surprise the +assembled members of our family, and particularly John our esteemed +host to whom we are so much indebted for the great hospitality with +which he has this day entertained us, by the confession I am going +to make. But, if you do me the honour to be surprised at anything +that falls from a person so unimportant in the family as I am, I can +only say that I shall be scrupulously accurate in all I relate. + +I am not what I am supposed to be. I am quite another thing. +Perhaps before I go further, I had better glance at what I \emph{am} +supposed to be. + +It is supposed, unless I mistake---the assembled members of our +family will correct me if I do, which is very likely (here the poor +relation looked mildly about him for contradiction); that I am +nobody's enemy but my own. That I never met with any particular +success in anything. That I failed in business because I was +unbusiness-like and credulous---in not being prepared for the +interested designs of my partner. That I failed in love, because I +was ridiculously trustful---in thinking it impossible that Christiana +could deceive me. That I failed in my expectations from my uncle +Chill, on account of not being as sharp as he could have wished in +worldly matters. That, through life, I have been rather put upon +and disappointed in a general way. That I am at present a bachelor +of between fifty-nine and sixty years of age, living on a limited +income in the form of a quarterly allowance, to which I see that +John our esteemed host wishes me to make no further allusion. + +The supposition as to my present pursuits and habits is to the +following effect. + +I live in a lodging in the Clapham Road---a very clean back room, in +a very respectable house---where I am expected not to be at home in +the day-time, unless poorly; and which I usually leave in the +morning at nine o'clock, on pretence of going to business. I take +my breakfast---my roll and butter, and my half-pint of coffee---at the +old-established coffee-shop near Westminster Bridge; and then I go +into the City---I don't know why---and sit in Garraway's Coffee House, +and on 'Change, and walk about, and look into a few offices and +counting-houses where some of my relations or acquaintance are so +good as to tolerate me, and where I stand by the fire if the weather +happens to be cold. I get through the day in this way until five +o'clock, and then I dine: at a cost, on the average, of one and +threepence. Having still a little money to spend on my evening's +entertainment, I look into the old-established coffee-shop as I go +home, and take my cup of tea, and perhaps my bit of toast. So, as +the large hand of the clock makes its way round to the morning hour +again, I make my way round to the Clapham Road again, and go to bed +when I get to my lodging---fire being expensive, and being objected +to by the family on account of its giving trouble and making a dirt. + +Sometimes, one of my relations or acquaintances is so obliging as to +ask me to dinner. Those are holiday occasions, and then I generally +walk in the Park. I am a solitary man, and seldom walk with +anybody. Not that I am avoided because I am shabby; for I am not at +all shabby, having always a very good suit of black on (or rather +Oxford mixture, which has the appearance of black and wears much +better); but I have got into a habit of speaking low, and being +rather silent, and my spirits are not high, and I am sensible that I +am not an attractive companion. + +The only exception to this general rule is the child of my first +cousin, Little Frank. I have a particular affection for that child, +and he takes very kindly to me. He is a diffident boy by nature; +and in a crowd he is soon run over, as I may say, and forgotten. He +and I, however, get on exceedingly well. I have a fancy that the +poor child will in time succeed to my peculiar position in the +family. We talk but little; still, we understand each other. We +walk about, hand in hand; and without much speaking he knows what I +mean, and I know what he means. When he was very little indeed, I +used to take him to the windows of the toy-shops, and show him the +toys inside. It is surprising how soon he found out that I would +have made him a great many presents if I had been in circumstances +to do it. + +Little Frank and I go and look at the outside of the Monument---he is +very fond of the Monument---and at the Bridges, and at all the sights +that are free. On two of my birthdays, we have dined on e-la-mode +beef, and gone at half-price to the play, and been deeply +interested. I was once walking with him in Lombard Street, which we +often visit on account of my having mentioned to him that there are +great riches there---he is very fond of Lombard Street---when a +gentleman said to me as he passed by, ``Sir, your little son has +dropped his glove.'' I assure you, if you will excuse my remarking +on so trivial a circumstance, this accidental mention of the child +as mine, quite touched my heart and brought the foolish tears into +my eyes. + +When Little Frank is sent to school in the country, I shall be very +much at a loss what to do with myself, but I have the intention of +walking down there once a month and seeing him on a half holiday. I +am told he will then be at play upon the Heath; and if my visits +should be objected to, as unsettling the child, I can see him from a +distance without his seeing me, and walk back again. His mother +comes of a highly genteel family, and rather disapproves, I am +aware, of our being too much together. I know that I am not +calculated to improve his retiring disposition; but I think he would +miss me beyond the feeling of the moment if we were wholly +separated. + +When I die in the Clapham Road, I shall not leave much more in this +world than I shall take out of it; but, I happen to have a miniature +of a bright-faced boy, with a curling head, and an open shirt-frill +waving down his bosom (my mother had it taken for me, but I can't +believe that it was ever like), which will be worth nothing to sell, +and which I shall beg may he given to Frank. I have written my dear +boy a little letter with it, in which I have told him that I felt +very sorry to part from him, though bound to confess that I knew no +reason why I should remain here. I have given him some short +advice, the best in my power, to take warning of the consequences of +being nobody's enemy but his own; and I have endeavoured to comfort +him for what I fear he will consider a bereavement, by pointing out +to him, that I was only a superfluous something to every one but +him; and that having by some means failed to find a place in this +great assembly, I am better out of it. + +Such (said the poor relation, clearing his throat and beginning to +speak a little louder) is the general impression about me. Now, it +is a remarkable circumstance which forms the aim and purpose of my +story, that this is all wrong. This is not my life, and these are +not my habits. I do not even live in the Clapham Road. +Comparatively speaking, I am very seldom there. I reside, mostly, +in a---I am almost ashamed to say the word, it sounds so full of +pretension---in a Castle. I do not mean that it is an old baronial +habitation, but still it is a building always known to every one by +the name of a Castle. In it, I preserve the particulars of my +history; they run thus: + +It was when I first took John Spatter (who had been my clerk) into +partnership, and when I was still a young man of not more than five-% +and-twenty, residing in the house of my uncle Chill, from whom I had +considerable expectations, that I ventured to propose to Christiana. +I had loved Christiana a long time. She was very beautiful, and +very winning in all respects. I rather mistrusted her widowed +mother, who I feared was of a plotting and mercenary turn of mind; +but, I thought as well of her as I could, for Christiana's sake. I +never had loved any one but Christiana, and she had been all the +world, and O far more than all the world, to me, from our childhood! + +Christiana accepted me with her mother's consent, and I was rendered +very happy indeed. My life at my uncle Chill's was of a spare dull +kind, and my garret chamber was as dull, and bare, and cold, as an +upper prison room in some stern northern fortress. But, having +Christiana's love, I wanted nothing upon earth. I would not have +changed my lot with any human being. + +Avarice was, unhappily, my uncle Chill's master-vice. Though he was +rich, he pinched, and scraped, and clutched, and lived miserably. +As Christiana had no fortune, I was for some time a little fearful +of confessing our engagement to him; but, at length I wrote him a +letter, saying how it all truly was. I put it into his hand one +night, on going to bed. + +As I came down-stairs next morning, shivering in the cold December +air; colder in my uncle's unwarmed house than in the street, where +the winter sun did sometimes shine, and which was at all events +enlivened by cheerful faces and voices passing along; I carried a +heavy heart towards the long, low breakfast-room in which my uncle +sat. It was a large room with a small fire, and there was a great +bay window in it which the rain had marked in the night as if with +the tears of houseless people. It stared upon a raw yard, with a +cracked stone pavement, and some rusted iron railings half uprooted, +whence an ugly out-building that had once been a dissecting-room (in +the time of the great surgeon who had mortgaged the house to my +uncle), stared at it. + +We rose so early always, that at that time of the year we +breakfasted by candle-light. When I went into the room, my uncle +was so contracted by the cold, and so huddled together in his chair +behind the one dim candle, that I did not see him until I was close +to the table. + +As I held out my hand to him, he caught up his stick (being infirm, +he always walked about the house with a stick), and made a blow at +me, and said, ``You fool!'' + +``Uncle,'' I returned, ``I didn't expect you to be so angry as this.'' +Nor had I expected it, though he was a hard and angry old man. + +``You didn't expect!'' said he; ``when did you ever expect? When did +you ever calculate, or look forward, you contemptible dog?'' + +``These are hard words, uncle!'' + +``Hard words? Feathers, to pelt such an idiot as you with,'' said he. +``Here! Betsy Snap! Look at him!'' + +Betsy Snap was a withered, hard-favoured, yellow old woman---our only +domestic---always employed, at this time of the morning, in rubbing +my uncle's legs. As my uncle adjured her to look at me, he put his +lean grip on the crown of her head, she kneeling beside him, and +turned her face towards me. An involuntary thought connecting them +both with the Dissecting Room, as it must often have been in the +surgeon's time, passed across my mind in the midst of my anxiety. + +``Look at the snivelling milksop!'' said my uncle. ``Look at the baby! +This is the gentleman who, people say, is nobody's enemy but his +own. This is the gentleman who can't say no. This is the gentleman +who was making such large profits in his business that he must needs +take a partner, t'other day. This is the gentleman who is going to +marry a wife without a penny, and who falls into the hands of +Jezabels who are speculating on my death!'' + +I knew, now, how great my uncle's rage was; for nothing short of his +being almost beside himself would have induced him to utter that +concluding word, which he held in such repugnance that it was never +spoken or hinted at before him on any account. + +``On my death,'' he repeated, as if he were defying me by defying his +own abhorrence of the word. ``On my death---death---Death! But I'll +spoil the speculation. Eat your last under this roof, you feeble +wretch, and may it choke you!'' + +You may suppose that I had not much appetite for the breakfast to +which I was bidden in these terms; but, I took my accustomed seat. +I saw that I was repudiated henceforth by my uncle; still I could +bear that very well, possessing Christiana's heart. + +He emptied his basin of bread and milk as usual, only that he took +it on his knees with his chair turned away from the table where I +sat. When he had done, he carefully snuffed out the candle; and the +cold, slate-coloured, miserable day looked in upon us. + +``Now, Mr.\ Michael,'' said he, ``before we part, I should like to have +a word with these ladies in your presence.'' + +``As you will, sir,'' I returned; ``but you deceive yourself, and wrong +us, cruelly, if you suppose that there is any feeling at stake in +this contract but pure, disinterested, faithful love.'' + +To this, he only replied, ``You lie!'' and not one other word. + +We went, through half-thawed snow and half-frozen rain, to the house +where Christiana and her mother lived. My uncle knew them very +well. They were sitting at their breakfast, and were surprised to +see us at that hour. + +``Your servant, ma'am,'' said my uncle to the mother. ``You divine the +purpose of my visit, I dare say, ma'am. I understand there is a +world of pure, disinterested, faithful love cooped up here. I am +happy to bring it all it wants, to make it complete. I bring you +your son-in-law, ma'am---and you, your husband, miss. The gentleman +is a perfect stranger to me, but I wish him joy of his wise +bargain.'' + +He snarled at me as he went out, and I never saw him again. + + +It is altogether a mistake (continued the poor relation) to suppose +that my dear Christiana, over-persuaded and influenced by her +mother, married a rich man, the dirt from whose carriage wheels is +often, in these changed times, thrown upon me as she rides by. No, +no. She married me. + +The way we came to be married rather sooner than we intended, was +this. I took a frugal lodging and was saving and planning for her +sake, when, one day, she spoke to me with great earnestness, and +said: + +``My dear Michael, I have given you my heart. I have said that I +loved you, and I have pledged myself to be your wife. I am as much +yours through all changes of good and evil as if we had been married +on the day when such words passed between us. I know you well, and +know that if we should be separated and our union broken off, your +whole life would be shadowed, and all that might, even now, be +stronger in your character for the conflict with the world would +then be weakened to the shadow of what it is!'' + +``God help me, Christiana!'' said I. ``You speak the truth.'' + +``Michael!'' said she, putting her hand in mine, in all maidenly +devotion, ``let us keep apart no longer. It is but for me to say +that I can live contented upon such means as you have, and I well +know you are happy. I say so from my heart. Strive no more alone; +let us strive together. My dear Michael, it is not right that I +should keep secret from you what you do not suspect, but what +distresses my whole life. My mother: without considering that what +you have lost, you have lost for me, and on the assurance of my +faith: sets her heart on riches, and urges another suit upon me, to +my misery. I cannot bear this, for to bear it is to be untrue to +you. I would rather share your struggles than look on. I want no +better home than you can give me. I know that you will aspire and +labour with a higher courage if I am wholly yours, and let it be so +when you will!'' + +I was blest indeed, that day, and a new world opened to me. We were +married in a very little while, and I took my wife to our happy +home. That was the beginning of the residence I have spoken of; the +Castle we have ever since inhabited together, dates from that time. +All our children have been born in it. Our first child---now +married---was a little girl, whom we called Christiana. Her son is +so like Little Frank, that I hardly know which is which. + + +The current impression as to my partner's dealings with me is also +quite erroneous. He did not begin to treat me coldly, as a poor +simpleton, when my uncle and I so fatally quarrelled; nor did he +afterwards gradually possess himself of our business and edge me +out. On the contrary, he behaved to me with the utmost good faith +and honour. + +Matters between us took this turn:- On the day of my separation from +my uncle, and even before the arrival at our counting-house of my +trunks (which he sent after me, \emph{not} carriage paid), I went down to +our room of business, on our little wharf, overlooking the river; +and there I told John Spatter what had happened. John did not say, +in reply, that rich old relatives were palpable facts, and that love +and sentiment were moonshine and fiction. He addressed me thus: + +``Michael,'' said John, ``we were at school together, and I generally +had the knack of getting on better than you, and making a higher +reputation.'' + +``You had, John,'' I returned. + +``Although'' said John, ``I borrowed your books and lost them; borrowed +your pocket-money, and never repaid it; got you to buy my damaged +knives at a higher price than I had given for them new; and to own +to the windows that I had broken.'' + +``All not worth mentioning, John Spatter,'' said I, ``but certainly +true.'' + +``When you were first established in this infant business, which +promises to thrive so well,'' pursued John, ``I came to you, in my +search for almost any employment, and you made me your clerk.'' + +``Still not worth mentioning, my dear John Spatter,'' said I; ``still, +equally true.'' + +``And finding that I had a good head for business, and that I was +really useful \emph{to} the business, you did not like to retain me in that +capacity, and thought it an act of justice soon to make me your +partner.'' + +``Still less worth mentioning than any of those other little +circumstances you have recalled, John Spatter,'' said I; ``for I was, +and am, sensible of your merits and my deficiencies.'' + +``Now, my good friend,'' said John, drawing my arm through his, as he +had had a habit of doing at school; while two vessels outside the +windows of our counting-house---which were shaped like the stern +windows of a ship---went lightly down the river with the tide, as +John and I might then be sailing away in company, and in trust and +confidence, on our voyage of life; ``let there, under these friendly +circumstances, be a right understanding between us. You are too +easy, Michael. You are nobody's enemy but your own. If I were to +give you that damaging character among our connexion, with a shrug, +and a shake of the head, and a sigh; and if I were further to abuse +the trust you place in me---'' + +``But you never will abuse it at all, John,'' I observed. + +``Never!'' said he; ``but I am putting a case---I say, and if I were +further to abuse that trust by keeping this piece of our common +affairs in the dark, and this other piece in the light, and again +this other piece in the twilight, and so on, I should strengthen my +strength, and weaken your weakness, day by day, until at last I +found myself on the high road to fortune, and you left behind on +some bare common, a hopeless number of miles out of the way.'' + +``Exactly so,'' said I. + +``To prevent this, Michael,'' said John Spatter, ``or the remotest +chance of this, there must be perfect openness between us. Nothing +must be concealed, and we must have but one interest.'' + +``My dear John Spatter,'' I assured him, ``that is precisely what I +mean.'' + +``And when you are too easy,'' pursued John, his face glowing with +friendship, ``you must allow me to prevent that imperfection in your +nature from being taken advantage of, by any one; you must not +expect me to humour it---'' + +``My dear John Spatter,'' I interrupted, ``I \emph{don't} expect you to humour +it. I want to correct it.'' + +``And I, too,'' said John. + +``Exactly so!'' cried I. ``We both have the same end in view; and, +honourably seeking it, and fully trusting one another, and having +but one interest, ours will be a prosperous and happy partnership.'' + +``I am sure of it!'' returned John Spatter. And we shook hands most +affectionately. + +I took John home to my Castle, and we had a very happy day. Our +partnership throve well. My friend and partner supplied what I +wanted, as I had foreseen that he would, and by improving both the +business and myself, amply acknowledged any little rise in life to +which I had helped him. + + +I am not (said the poor relation, looking at the fire as he slowly +rubbed his hands) very rich, for I never cared to be that; but I +have enough, and am above all moderate wants and anxieties. My +Castle is not a splendid place, but it is very comfortable, and it +has a warm and cheerful air, and is quite a picture of Home. + +Our eldest girl, who is very like her mother, married John Spatter's +eldest son. Our two families are closely united in other ties of +attachment. It is very pleasant of an evening, when we are all +assembled together---which frequently happens---and when John and I +talk over old times, and the one interest there has always been +between us. + +I really do not know, in my Castle, what loneliness is. Some of our +children or grandchildren are always about it, and the young voices +of my descendants are delightful---O, how delightful!---to me to hear. +My dearest and most devoted wife, ever faithful, ever loving, ever +helpful and sustaining and consoling, is the priceless blessing of +my house; from whom all its other blessings spring. We are rather a +musical family, and when Christiana sees me, at any time, a little +weary or depressed, she steals to the piano and sings a gentle air +she used to sing when we were first betrothed. So weak a man am I, +that I cannot bear to hear it from any other source. They played it +once, at the Theatre, when I was there with Little Frank; and the +child said wondering, ``Cousin Michael, whose hot tears are these +that have fallen on my hand!'' + +Such is my Castle, and such are the real particulars of my life +therein preserved. I often take Little Frank home there. He is +very welcome to my grandchildren, and they play together. At this +time of the year---the Christmas and New Year time---I am seldom out +of my Castle. For, the associations of the season seem to hold me +there, and the precepts of the season seem to teach me that it is +well to be there. + + +``And the Castle is---'' observed a grave, kind voice among the +company. + +``Yes. My Castle,'' said the poor relation, shaking his head as he +still looked at the fire, ``is in the Air. John our esteemed host +suggests its situation accurately. My Castle is in the Air! I have +done. Will you be so good as to pass the story?'' + + + +\chapter{The Child's Story} + + + +Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveller, and +he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to seem +very long when he began it, and very short when he got half way +through. + +He travelled along a rather dark path for some little time, without +meeting anything, until at last he came to a beautiful child. So he +said to the child, ``What do you do here?'' And the child said, ``I am +always at play. Come and play with me!'' + +So, he played with that child, the whole day long, and they were +very merry. The sky was so blue, the sun was so bright, the water +was so sparkling, the leaves were so green, the flowers were so +lovely, and they heard such singing-birds and saw so many butteries, +that everything was beautiful. This was in fine weather. When it +rained, they loved to watch the falling drops, and to smell the +fresh scents. When it blew, it was delightful to listen to the +wind, and fancy what it said, as it came rushing from its home---% +where was that, they wondered!---whistling and howling, driving the +clouds before it, bending the trees, rumbling in the chimneys, +shaking the house, and making the sea roar in fury. But, when it +snowed, that was best of all; for, they liked nothing so well as to +look up at the white flakes falling fast and thick, like down from +the breasts of millions of white birds; and to see how smooth and +deep the drift was; and to listen to the hush upon the paths and +roads. + +They had plenty of the finest toys in the world, and the most +astonishing picture-books: all about scimitars and slippers and +turbans, and dwarfs and giants and genii and fairies, and blue-% +beards and bean-stalks and riches and caverns and forests and +Valentines and Orsons: and all new and all true. + +But, one day, of a sudden, the traveller lost the child. He called +to him over and over again, but got no answer. So, he went upon his +road, and went on for a little while without meeting anything, until +at last he came to a handsome boy. So, he said to the boy, ``What do +you do here?'' And the boy said, ``I am always learning. Come and +learn with me.'' + +So he learned with that boy about Jupiter and Juno, and the Greeks +and the Romans, and I don't know what, and learned more than I could +tell---or he either, for he soon forgot a great deal of it. But, +they were not always learning; they had the merriest games that ever +were played. They rowed upon the river in summer, and skated on the +ice in winter; they were active afoot, and active on horseback; at +cricket, and all games at ball; at prisoner's base, hare and hounds, +follow my leader, and more sports than I can think of; nobody could +beat them. They had holidays too, and Twelfth cakes, and parties +where they danced till midnight, and real Theatres where they saw +palaces of real gold and silver rise out of the real earth, and saw +all the wonders of the world at once. As to friends, they had such +dear friends and so many of them, that I want the time to reckon +them up. They were all young, like the handsome boy, and were never +to be strange to one another all their lives through. + +Still, one day, in the midst of all these pleasures, the traveller +lost the boy as he had lost the child, and, after calling to him in +vain, went on upon his journey. So he went on for a little while +without seeing anything, until at last he came to a young man. So, +he said to the young man, ``What do you do here?'' And the young man +said, ``I am always in love. Come and love with me.'' + +So, he went away with that young man, and presently they came to one +of the prettiest girls that ever was seen---just like Fanny in the +corner there---and she had eyes like Fanny, and hair like Fanny, and +dimples like Fanny's, and she laughed and coloured just as Fanny +does while I am talking about her. So, the young man fell in love +directly---just as Somebody I won't mention, the first time he came +here, did with Fanny. Well! he was teased sometimes---just as +Somebody used to be by Fanny; and they quarrelled sometimes---just as +Somebody and Fanny used to quarrel; and they made it up, and sat in +the dark, and wrote letters every day, and never were happy asunder, +and were always looking out for one another and pretending not to, +and were engaged at Christmas-time, and sat close to one another by +the fire, and were going to be married very soon---all exactly like +Somebody I won't mention, and Fanny! + +But, the traveller lost them one day, as he had lost the rest of his +friends, and, after calling to them to come back, which they never +did, went on upon his journey. So, he went on for a little while +without seeing anything, until at last he came to a middle-aged +gentleman. So, he said to the gentleman, ``What are you doing here?'' +And his answer was, ``I am always busy. Come and be busy with me!'' + +So, he began to be very busy with that gentleman, and they went on +through the wood together. The whole journey was through a wood, +only it had been open and green at first, like a wood in spring; and +now began to be thick and dark, like a wood in summer; some of the +little trees that had come out earliest, were even turning brown. +The gentleman was not alone, but had a lady of about the same age +with him, who was his Wife; and they had children, who were with +them too. So, they all went on together through the wood, cutting +down the trees, and making a path through the branches and the +fallen leaves, and carrying burdens, and working hard. + +Sometimes, they came to a long green avenue that opened into deeper +woods. Then they would hear a very little, distant voice crying, +``Father, father, I am another child! Stop for me!'' And presently +they would see a very little figure, growing larger as it came +along, running to join them. When it came up, they all crowded +round it, and kissed and welcomed it; and then they all went on +together. + +Sometimes, they came to several avenues at once, and then they all +stood still, and one of the children said, ``Father, I am going to +sea,'' and another said, ``Father, I am going to India,'' and another, +``Father, I am going to seek my fortune where I can,'' and another, +``Father, I am going to Heaven!'' So, with many tears at parting, +they went, solitary, down those avenues, each child upon its way; +and the child who went to Heaven, rose into the golden air and +vanished. + +Whenever these partings happened, the traveller looked at the +gentleman, and saw him glance up at the sky above the trees, where +the day was beginning to decline, and the sunset to come on. He +saw, too, that his hair was turning grey. But, they never could +rest long, for they had their journey to perform, and it was +necessary for them to be always busy. + +At last, there had been so many partings that there were no children +left, and only the traveller, the gentleman, and the lady, went upon +their way in company. And now the wood was yellow; and now brown; +and the leaves, even of the forest trees, began to fall. + +So, they came to an avenue that was darker than the rest, and were +pressing forward on their journey without looking down it when the +lady stopped. + +``My husband,'' said the lady. ``I am called.'' + +They listened, and they heard a voice a long way down the avenue, +say, ``Mother, mother!'' + +It was the voice of the first child who had said, ``I am going to +Heaven!'' and the father said, ``I pray not yet. The sunset is very +near. I pray not yet!'' + +But, the voice cried, ``Mother, mother!'' without minding him, though +his hair was now quite white, and tears were on his face. + +Then, the mother, who was already drawn into the shade of the dark +avenue and moving away with her arms still round his neck, kissed +him, and said, ``My dearest, I am summoned, and I go!'' And she was +gone. And the traveller and he were left alone together. + +And they went on and on together, until they came to very near the +end of the wood: so near, that they could see the sunset shining +red before them through the trees. + +Yet, once more, while he broke his way among the branches, the +traveller lost his friend. He called and called, but there was no +reply, and when he passed out of the wood, and saw the peaceful sun +going down upon a wide purple prospect, he came to an old man +sitting on a fallen tree. So, he said to the old man, ``What do you +do here?'' And the old man said with a calm smile, ``I am always +remembering. Come and remember with me!'' + +So the traveller sat down by the side of that old man, face to face +with the serene sunset; and all his friends came softly back and +stood around him. The beautiful child, the handsome boy, the young +man in love, the father, mother, and children: every one of them +was there, and he had lost nothing. So, he loved them all, and was +kind and forbearing with them all, and was always pleased to watch +them all, and they all honoured and loved him. And I think the +traveller must be yourself, dear Grandfather, because this what you +do to us, and what we do to you. + + + +\chapter{The Schoolboy's Story} + + + +Being rather young at present---I am getting on in years, but still I +am rather young---I have no particular adventures of my own to fall +back upon. It wouldn't much interest anybody here, I suppose, to +know what a screw the Reverend is, or what a griffin \emph{she} is, or how +they do stick it into parents---particularly hair-cutting, and +medical attendance. One of our fellows was charged in his half's +account twelve and sixpence for two pills---tolerably profitable at +six and threepence a-piece, I should think---and he never took them +either, but put them up the sleeve of his jacket. + +As to the beef, it's shameful. It's \emph{not} beef. Regular beef isn't +veins. You can chew regular beef. Besides which, there's gravy to +regular beef, and you never see a drop to ours. Another of our +fellows went home ill, and heard the family doctor tell his father +that he couldn't account for his complaint unless it was the beer. +Of course it was the beer, and well it might be! + +However, beef and Old Cheeseman are two different things. So is +beer. It was Old Cheeseman I meant to tell about; not the manner in +which our fellows get their constitutions destroyed for the sake of +profit. + +Why, look at the pie-crust alone. There's no flakiness in it. It's +solid---like damp lead. Then our fellows get nightmares, and are +bolstered for calling out and waking other fellows. Who can wonder! + +Old Cheeseman one night walked in his sleep, put his hat on over his +night-cap, got hold of a fishing-rod and a cricket-bat, and went +down into the parlour, where they naturally thought from his +appearance he was a Ghost. Why, he never would have done that if +his meals had been wholesome. When we all begin to walk in our +sleeps, I suppose they'll be sorry for it. + +Old Cheeseman wasn't second Latin Master then; he was a fellow +himself. He was first brought there, very small, in a post-chaise, +by a woman who was always taking snuff and shaking him---and that was +the most he remembered about it. He never went home for the +holidays. His accounts (he never learnt any extras) were sent to a +Bank, and the Bank paid them; and he had a brown suit twice a-year, +and went into boots at twelve. They were always too big for him, +too. + +In the Midsummer holidays, some of our fellows who lived within +walking distance, used to come back and climb the trees outside the +playground wall, on purpose to look at Old Cheeseman reading there +by himself. He was always as mild as the tea---and \emph{that}'S pretty +mild, I should hope!---so when they whistled to him, he looked up and +nodded; and when they said, ``Halloa, Old Cheeseman, what have you +had for dinner?'' he said, ``Boiled mutton;'' and when they said, ``An't +it solitary, Old Cheeseman?'' he said, ``It is a little dull +sometimes:'' and then they said, ``Well good-bye, Old Cheeseman!'' and +climbed down again. Of course it was imposing on Old Cheeseman to +give him nothing but boiled mutton through a whole Vacation, but +that was just like the system. When they didn't give him boiled +mutton, they gave him rice pudding, pretending it was a treat. And +saved the butcher. + +So Old Cheeseman went on. The holidays brought him into other +trouble besides the loneliness; because when the fellows began to +come back, not wanting to, he was always glad to see them; which was +aggravating when they were not at all glad to see him, and so he got +his head knocked against walls, and that was the way his nose bled. +But he was a favourite in general. Once a subscription was raised +for him; and, to keep up his spirits, he was presented before the +holidays with two white mice, a rabbit, a pigeon, and a beautiful +puppy. Old Cheeseman cried about it---especially soon afterwards, +when they all ate one another. + +Of course Old Cheeseman used to be called by the names of all sorts +of cheeses---Double Glo'sterman, Family Cheshireman, Dutchman, North +Wiltshireman, and all that. But he never minded it. And I don't +mean to say he was old in point of years---because he wasn't---only he +was called from the first, Old Cheeseman. + +At last, Old Cheeseman was made second Latin Master. He was brought +in one morning at the beginning of a new half, and presented to the +school in that capacity as ``Mr.\ Cheeseman.'' Then our fellows all +agreed that Old Cheeseman was a spy, and a deserter, who had gone +over to the enemy's camp, and sold himself for gold. It was no +excuse for him that he had sold himself for very little gold---two +pound ten a quarter and his washing, as was reported. It was +decided by a Parliament which sat about it, that Old Cheeseman's +mercenary motives could alone be taken into account, and that he had +``coined our blood for drachmas.'' The Parliament took the expression +out of the quarrel scene between Brutus and Cassius. + +When it was settled in this strong way that Old Cheeseman was a +tremendous traitor, who had wormed himself into our fellows' secrets +on purpose to get himself into favour by giving up everything he +knew, all courageous fellows were invited to come forward and enrol +themselves in a Society for making a set against him. The President +of the Society was First boy, named Bob Tarter. His father was in +the West Indies, and he owned, himself, that his father was worth +Millions. He had great power among our fellows, and he wrote a +parody, beginning -% + +\begin{verse} + ``Who made believe to be so meek\\ + That we could hardly hear him speak,\\ + Yet turned out an Informing Sneak?\\ + Old Cheeseman.'' +\end{verse} + +- and on in that way through more than a dozen verses, which he used +to go and sing, every morning, close by the new master's desk. He +trained one of the low boys, too, a rosy-cheeked little Brass who +didn't care what he did, to go up to him with his Latin Grammar one +morning, and say it so: \emph{nominativus} \emph{pronominum}---Old Cheeseman, \emph{raro} +\emph{exprimitur}---was never suspected, \emph{nisi} \emph{distinctionis}---of being an +informer, \emph{aut} \emph{emphasis} \emph{gratia}---until he proved one. \emph{ut}---for +instance, \emph{vos} \emph{damnastis}---when he sold the boys. \emph{quasi}---as though, +\emph{dicat}---he should say, \emph{pretaerea} \emph{nemo}---I'm a Judas! All this +produced a great effect on Old Cheeseman. He had never had much +hair; but what he had, began to get thinner and thinner every day. +He grew paler and more worn; and sometimes of an evening he was seen +sitting at his desk with a precious long snuff to his candle, and +his hands before his face, crying. But no member of the Society +could pity him, even if he felt inclined, because the President said +it was Old Cheeseman's conscience. + +So Old Cheeseman went on, and didn't he lead a miserable life! Of +course the Reverend turned up his nose at him, and of course \emph{she} +did---because both of them always do that at all the masters---but he +suffered from the fellows most, and he suffered from them +constantly. He never told about it, that the Society could find +out; but he got no credit for that, because the President said it +was Old Cheeseman's cowardice. + +He had only one friend in the world, and that one was almost as +powerless as he was, for it was only Jane. Jane was a sort of +wardrobe woman to our fellows, and took care of the boxes. She had +come at first, I believe, as a kind of apprentice---some of our +fellows say from a Charity, but I don't know---and after her time was +out, had stopped at so much a year. So little a year, perhaps I +ought to say, for it is far more likely. However, she had put some +pounds in the Savings' Bank, and she was a very nice young woman. +She was not quite pretty; but she had a very frank, honest, bright +face, and all our fellows were fond of her. She was uncommonly neat +and cheerful, and uncommonly comfortable and kind. And if anything +was the matter with a fellow's mother, he always went and showed the +letter to Jane. + +Jane was Old Cheeseman's friend. The more the Society went against +him, the more Jane stood by him. She used to give him a good-% +humoured look out of her still-room window, sometimes, that seemed +to set him up for the day. She used to pass out of the orchard and +the kitchen garden (always kept locked, I believe you!) through the +playground, when she might have gone the other way, only to give a +turn of her head, as much as to say ``Keep up your spirits!'' to Old +Cheeseman. His slip of a room was so fresh and orderly that it was +well known who looked after it while he was at his desk; and when +our fellows saw a smoking hot dumpling on his plate at dinner, they +knew with indignation who had sent it up. + +Under these circumstances, the Society resolved, after a quantity of +meeting and debating, that Jane should be requested to cut Old +Cheeseman dead; and that if she refused, she must be sent to +Coventry herself. So a deputation, headed by the President, was +appointed to wait on Jane, and inform her of the vote the Society +had been under the painful necessity of passing. She was very much +respected for all her good qualities, and there was a story about +her having once waylaid the Reverend in his own study, and got a +fellow off from severe punishment, of her own kind comfortable +heart. So the deputation didn't much like the job. However, they +went up, and the President told Jane all about it. Upon which Jane +turned very red, burst into tears, informed the President and the +deputation, in a way not at all like her usual way, that they were a +parcel of malicious young savages, and turned the whole respected +body out of the room. Consequently it was entered in the Society's +book (kept in astronomical cypher for fear of detection), that all +communication with Jane was interdicted: and the President +addressed the members on this convincing instance of Old Cheeseman's +undermining. + +But Jane was as true to Old Cheeseman as Old Cheeseman was false to +our fellows---in their opinion, at all events---and steadily continued +to be his only friend. It was a great exasperation to the Society, +because Jane was as much a loss to them as she was a gain to him; +and being more inveterate against him than ever, they treated him +worse than ever. At last, one morning, his desk stood empty, his +room was peeped into, and found to be vacant, and a whisper went +about among the pale faces of our fellows that Old Cheeseman, unable +to bear it any longer, had got up early and drowned himself. + +The mysterious looks of the other masters after breakfast, and the +evident fact that old Cheeseman was not expected, confirmed the +Society in this opinion. Some began to discuss whether the +President was liable to hanging or only transportation for life, and +the President's face showed a great anxiety to know which. However, +he said that a jury of his country should find him game; and that in +his address he should put it to them to lay their hands upon their +hearts and say whether they as Britons approved of informers, and +how they thought they would like it themselves. Some of the Society +considered that he had better run away until he found a forest where +he might change clothes with a wood-cutter, and stain his face with +blackberries; but the majority believed that if he stood his ground, +his father---belonging as he did to the West Indies, and being worth +millions---could buy him off. + +All our fellows' hearts beat fast when the Reverend came in, and +made a sort of a Roman, or a Field Marshal, of himself with the +ruler; as he always did before delivering an address. But their +fears were nothing to their astonishment when he came out with the +story that Old Cheeseman, ``so long our respected friend and fellow-% +pilgrim in the pleasant plains of knowledge,'' he called him---O yes! +I dare say! Much of that!---was the orphan child of a disinherited +young lady who had married against her father's wish, and whose +young husband had died, and who had died of sorrow herself, and +whose unfortunate baby (Old Cheeseman) had been brought up at the +cost of a grandfather who would never consent to see it, baby, boy, +or man: which grandfather was now dead, and serve him right---that's +my putting in---and which grandfather's large property, there being +no will, was now, and all of a sudden and for ever, Old Cheeseman's! +Our so long respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant +plains of knowledge, the Reverend wound up a lot of bothering +quotations by saying, would ``come among us once more'' that day +fortnight, when he desired to take leave of us himself, in a more +particular manner. With these words, he stared severely round at +our fellows, and went solemnly out. + +There was precious consternation among the members of the Society, +now. Lots of them wanted to resign, and lots more began to try to +make out that they had never belonged to it. However, the President +stuck up, and said that they must stand or fall together, and that +if a breach was made it should be over his body---which was meant to +encourage the Society: but it didn't. The President further said, +he would consider the position in which they stood, and would give +them his best opinion and advice in a few days. This was eagerly +looked for, as he knew a good deal of the world on account of his +father's being in the West Indies. + +After days and days of hard thinking, and drawing armies all over +his slate, the President called our fellows together, and made the +matter clear. He said it was plain that when Old Cheeseman came on +the appointed day, his first revenge would be to impeach the +Society, and have it flogged all round. After witnessing with joy +the torture of his enemies, and gloating over the cries which agony +would extort from them, the probability was that he would invite the +Reverend, on pretence of conversation, into a private room---say the +parlour into which Parents were shown, where the two great globes +were which were never used---and would there reproach him with the +various frauds and oppressions he had endured at his hands. At the +close of his observations he would make a signal to a Prizefighter +concealed in the passage, who would then appear and pitch into the +Reverend, till he was left insensible. Old Cheeseman would then +make Jane a present of from five to ten pounds, and would leave the +establishment in fiendish triumph. + +The President explained that against the parlour part, or the Jane +part, of these arrangements he had nothing to say; but, on the part +of the Society, he counselled deadly resistance. With this view he +recommended that all available desks should be filled with stones, +and that the first word of the complaint should be the signal to +every fellow to let fly at Old Cheeseman. The bold advice put the +Society in better spirits, and was unanimously taken. A post about +Old Cheeseman's size was put up in the playground, and all our +fellows practised at it till it was dinted all over. + +When the day came, and Places were called, every fellow sat down in +a tremble. There had been much discussing and disputing as to how +Old Cheeseman would come; but it was the general opinion that he +would appear in a sort of triumphal car drawn by four horses, with +two livery servants in front, and the Prizefighter in disguise up +behind. So, all our fellows sat listening for the sound of wheels. +But no wheels were heard, for Old Cheeseman walked after all, and +came into the school without any preparation. Pretty much as he +used to be, only dressed in black. + +``Gentlemen,'' said the Reverend, presenting him, ``our so long +respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant plains of +knowledge, is desirous to offer a word or two. Attention, +gentlemen, one and all!'' + +Every fellow stole his hand into his desk and looked at the +President. The President was all ready, and taking aim at old +Cheeseman with his eyes. + +What did Old Cheeseman then, but walk up to his old desk, look round +him with a queer smile as if there was a tear in his eye, and begin +in a quavering, mild voice, ``My dear companions and old friends!'' + +Every fellow's hand came out of his desk, and the President suddenly +began to cry. + +``My dear companions and old friends,'' said Old Cheeseman, ``you have +heard of my good fortune. I have passed so many years under this +roof---my entire life so far, I may say---that I hope you have been +glad to hear of it for my sake. I could never enjoy it without +exchanging congratulations with you. If we have ever misunderstood +one another at all, pray, my dear boys, let us forgive and forget. +I have a great tenderness for you, and I am sure you return it. I +want in the fulness of a grateful heart to shake hands with you +every one. I have come back to do it, if you please, my dear boys.'' + +Since the President had begun to cry, several other fellows had +broken out here and there: but now, when Old Cheeseman began with +him as first boy, laid his left hand affectionately on his shoulder +and gave him his right; and when the President said ``Indeed, I don't +deserve it, sir; upon my honour I don't;'' there was sobbing and +crying all over the school. Every other fellow said he didn't +deserve it, much in the same way; but Old Cheeseman, not minding +that a bit, went cheerfully round to every boy, and wound up with +every master---finishing off the Reverend last. + +Then a snivelling little chap in a corner, who was always under some +punishment or other, set up a shrill cry of ``Success to Old +Cheeseman! Hooray!'' The Reverend glared upon him, and said, ``\emph{Mr}. +Cheeseman, sir.'' But, Old Cheeseman protesting that he liked his +old name a great deal better than his new one, all our fellows took +up the cry; and, for I don't know how many minutes, there was such a +thundering of feet and hands, and such a roaring of Old Cheeseman, +as never was heard. + +After that, there was a spread in the dining-room of the most +magnificent kind. Fowls, tongues, preserves, fruits, +confectionaries, jellies, neguses, barley-sugar temples, trifles, +crackers---eat all you can and pocket what you like---all at Old +Cheeseman's expense. After that, speeches, whole holiday, double +and treble sets of all manners of things for all manners of games, +donkeys, pony-chaises and drive yourself, dinner for all the masters +at the Seven Bells (twenty pounds a-head our fellows estimated it +at), an annual holiday and feast fixed for that day every year, and +another on Old Cheeseman's birthday---Reverend bound down before the +fellows to allow it, so that he could never back out---all at Old +Cheeseman's expense. + +And didn't our fellows go down in a body and cheer outside the Seven +Bells? O no! + +But there's something else besides. Don't look at the next story-% +teller, for there's more yet. Next day, it was resolved that the +Society should make it up with Jane, and then be dissolved. What do +you think of Jane being gone, though! ``What? Gone for ever?'' said +our fellows, with long faces. ``Yes, to be sure,'' was all the answer +they could get. None of the people about the house would say +anything more. At length, the first boy took upon himself to ask +the Reverend whether our old friend Jane was really gone? The +Reverend (he has got a daughter at home---turn-up nose, and red) +replied severely, ``Yes, sir, Miss Pitt is gone.'' The idea of +calling Jane, Miss Pitt! Some said she had been sent away in +disgrace for taking money from Old Cheeseman; others said she had +gone into Old Cheeseman's service at a rise of ten pounds a year. +All that our fellows knew, was, she was gone. + +It was two or three months afterwards, when, one afternoon, an open +carriage stopped at the cricket field, just outside bounds, with a +lady and gentleman in it, who looked at the game a long time and +stood up to see it played. Nobody thought much about them, until +the same little snivelling chap came in, against all rules, from the +post where he was Scout, and said, ``It's Jane!'' Both Elevens forgot +the game directly, and ran crowding round the carriage. It \emph{was} +Jane! In such a bonnet! And if you'll believe me, Jane was married +to Old Cheeseman. + +It soon became quite a regular thing when our fellows were hard at +it in the playground, to see a carriage at the low part of the wall +where it joins the high part, and a lady and gentleman standing up +in it, looking over. The gentleman was always Old Cheeseman, and +the lady was always Jane. + +The first time I ever saw them, I saw them in that way. There had +been a good many changes among our fellows then, and it had turned +out that Bob Tarter's father wasn't worth Millions! He wasn't worth +anything. Bob had gone for a soldier, and Old Cheeseman had +purchased his discharge. But that's not the carriage. The carriage +stopped, and all our fellows stopped as soon as it was seen. + +``So you have never sent me to Coventry after all!'' said the lady, +laughing, as our fellows swarmed up the wall to shake hands with +her. ``Are you never going to do it?'' + +``Never! never! never!'' on all sides. + +I didn't understand what she meant then, but of course I do now. I +was very much pleased with her face though, and with her good way, +and I couldn't help looking at her---and at him too---with all our +fellows clustering so joyfully about them. + +They soon took notice of me as a new boy, so I thought I might as +well swarm up the wall myself, and shake hands with them as the rest +did. I was quite as glad to see them as the rest were, and was +quite as familiar with them in a moment. + +``Only a fortnight now,'' said Old Cheeseman, ``to the holidays. Who +stops? Anybody?'' + +A good many fingers pointed at me, and a good many voices cried ``He +does!'' For it was the year when you were all away; and rather low I +was about it, I can tell you. + +``Oh!'' said Old Cheeseman. ``But it's solitary here in the holiday +time. He had better come to us.'' + +So I went to their delightful house, and was as happy as I could +possibly be. They understand how to conduct themselves towards +boys, \emph{they} do. When they take a boy to the play, for instance, they +\emph{do} take him. They don't go in after it's begun, or come out before +it's over. They know how to bring a boy up, too. Look at their +own! Though he is very little as yet, what a capital boy he is! +Why, my next favourite to Mrs.\ Cheeseman and Old Cheeseman, is young +Cheeseman. + +So, now I have told you all I know about Old Cheeseman. And it's +not much after all, I am afraid. Is it? + + + +\chapter{Nobody's Story} + + + +He lived on the bank of a mighty river, broad and deep, which was +always silently rolling on to a vast undiscovered ocean. It had +rolled on, ever since the world began. It had changed its course +sometimes, and turned into new channels, leaving its old ways dry +and barren; but it had ever been upon the flow, and ever was to flow +until Time should be no more. Against its strong, unfathomable +stream, nothing made head. No living creature, no flower, no leaf, +no particle of animate or inanimate existence, ever strayed back +from the undiscovered ocean. The tide of the river set resistlessly +towards it; and the tide never stopped, any more than the earth +stops in its circling round the sun. + +He lived in a busy place, and he worked very hard to live. He had +no hope of ever being rich enough to live a month without hard work, +but he was quite content, \emph{God} knows, to labour with a cheerful will. +He was one of an immense family, all of whose sons and daughters +gained their daily bread by daily work, prolonged from their rising +up betimes until their lying down at night. Beyond this destiny he +had no prospect, and he sought none. + +There was over-much drumming, trumpeting, and speech-making, in the +neighbourhood where he dwelt; but he had nothing to do with that. +Such clash and uproar came from the Bigwig family, at the +unaccountable proceedings of which race, he marvelled much. They +set up the strangest statues, in iron, marble, bronze, and brass, +before his door; and darkened his house with the legs and tails of +uncouth images of horses. He wondered what it all meant, smiled in +a rough good-humoured way he had, and kept at his hard work. + +The Bigwig family (composed of all the stateliest people +thereabouts, and all the noisiest) had undertaken to save him the +trouble of thinking for himself, and to manage him and his affairs. +``Why truly,'' said he, ``I have little time upon my hands; and if you +will be so good as to take care of me, in return for the money I pay +over''---for the Bigwig family were not above his money---``I shall be +relieved and much obliged, considering that you know best.'' Hence +the drumming, trumpeting, and speech-making, and the ugly images of +horses which he was expected to fall down and worship. + +``I don't understand all this,'' said he, rubbing his furrowed brow +confusedly. ``But it \emph{has} a meaning, maybe, if I could find it out.'' + +``It means,'' returned the Bigwig family, suspecting something of what +he said, ``honour and glory in the highest, to the highest merit.'' + +``Oh!'' said he. And he was glad to hear that. + +But, when he looked among the images in iron, marble, bronze, and +brass, he failed to find a rather meritorious countryman of his, +once the son of a Warwickshire wool-dealer, or any single countryman +whomsoever of that kind. He could find none of the men whose +knowledge had rescued him and his children from terrific and +disfiguring disease, whose boldness had raised his forefathers from +the condition of serfs, whose wise fancy had opened a new and high +existence to the humblest, whose skill had filled the working man's +world with accumulated wonders. Whereas, he did find others whom he +knew no good of, and even others whom he knew much ill of. + +``Humph!'' said he. ``I don't quite understand it.'' + +So, he went home, and sat down by his fireside to get it out of his +mind. + +Now, his fireside was a bare one, all hemmed in by blackened +streets; but it was a precious place to him. The hands of his wife +were hardened with toil, and she was old before her time; but she +was dear to him. His children, stunted in their growth, bore traces +of unwholesome nurture; but they had beauty in his sight. Above all +other things, it was an earnest desire of this man's soul that his +children should be taught. ``If I am sometimes misled,'' said he, +``for want of knowledge, at least let them know better, and avoid my +mistakes. If it is hard to me to reap the harvest of pleasure and +instruction that is stored in books, let it be easier to them.'' + +But, the Bigwig family broke out into violent family quarrels +concerning what it was lawful to teach to this man's children. Some +of the family insisted on such a thing being primary and +indispensable above all other things; and others of the family +insisted on such another thing being primary and indispensable above +all other things; and the Bigwig family, rent into factions, wrote +pamphlets, held convocations, delivered charges, orations, and all +varieties of discourses; impounded one another in courts Lay and +courts Ecclesiastical; threw dirt, exchanged pummelings, and fell +together by the ears in unintelligible animosity. Meanwhile, this +man, in his short evening snatches at his fireside, saw the demon +Ignorance arise there, and take his children to itself. He saw his +daughter perverted into a heavy, slatternly drudge; he saw his son +go moping down the ways of low sensuality, to brutality and crime; +he saw the dawning light of intelligence in the eyes of his babies +so changing into cunning and suspicion, that he could have rather +wished them idiots. + +``I don't understand this any the better,'' said he; ``but I think it +cannot be right. Nay, by the clouded Heaven above me, I protest +against this as my wrong!'' + +Becoming peaceable again (for his passion was usually short-lived, +and his nature kind), he looked about him on his Sundays and +holidays, and he saw how much monotony and weariness there was, and +thence how drunkenness arose with all its train of ruin. Then he +appealed to the Bigwig family, and said, ``We are a labouring people, +and I have a glimmering suspicion in me that labouring people of +whatever condition were made---by a higher intelligence than yours, +as I poorly understand it---to be in need of mental refreshment and +recreation. See what we fall into, when we rest without it. Come! +Amuse me harmlessly, show me something, give me an escape!'' + +But, here the Bigwig family fell into a state of uproar absolutely +deafening. When some few voices were faintly heard, proposing to +show him the wonders of the world, the greatness of creation, the +mighty changes of time, the workings of nature and the beauties of +art---to show him these things, that is to say, at any period of his +life when he could look upon them---there arose among the Bigwigs +such roaring and raving, such pulpiting and petitioning, such +maundering and memorialising, such name-calling and dirt-throwing, +such a shrill wind of parliamentary questioning and feeble replying-% +-where ``I dare not'' waited on ``I would''---that the poor fellow stood +aghast, staring wildly around. + +``Have I provoked all this,'' said he, with his hands to his +affrighted ears, ``by what was meant to be an innocent request, +plainly arising out of my familiar experience, and the common +knowledge of all men who choose to open their eyes? I don't +understand, and I am not understood. What is to come of such a +state of things!'' + +He was bending over his work, often asking himself the question, +when the news began to spread that a pestilence had appeared among +the labourers, and was slaying them by thousands. Going forth to +look about him, he soon found this to be true. The dying and the +dead were mingled in the close and tainted houses among which his +life was passed. New poison was distilled into the always murky, +always sickening air. The robust and the weak, old age and infancy, +the father and the mother, all were stricken down alike. + +What means of flight had he? He remained there, where he was, and +saw those who were dearest to him die. A kind preacher came to him, +and would have said some prayers to soften his heart in his gloom, +but he replied: + +``O what avails it, missionary, to come to me, a man condemned to +residence in this foetid place, where every sense bestowed upon me +for my delight becomes a torment, and where every minute of my +numbered days is new mire added to the heap under which I lie +oppressed! But, give me my first glimpse of Heaven, through a +little of its light and air; give me pure water; help me to be +clean; lighten this heavy atmosphere and heavy life, in which our +spirits sink, and we become the indifferent and callous creatures +you too often see us; gently and kindly take the bodies of those who +die among us, out of the small room where we grow to be so familiar +with the awful change that even its sanctity is lost to us; and, +Teacher, then I will hear---none know better than you, how willingly-% +-of Him whose thoughts were so much with the poor, and who had +compassion for all human sorrow!'' + +He was at work again, solitary and sad, when his Master came and +stood near to him dressed in black. He, also, had suffered heavily. +His young wife, his beautiful and good young wife, was dead; so, +too, his only child. + +``Master, 'tis hard to bear---I know it---but be comforted. I would +give you comfort, if I could.'' + +The Master thanked him from his heart, but, said he, ``O you +labouring men! The calamity began among you. If you had but lived +more healthily and decently, I should not be the widowed and bereft +mourner that I am this day.'' + +``Master,'' returned the other, shaking his head, ``I have begun to +understand a little that most calamities will come from us, as this +one did, and that none will stop at our poor doors, until we are +united with that great squabbling family yonder, to do the things +that are right. We cannot live healthily and decently, unless they +who undertook to manage us provide the means. We cannot be +instructed unless they will teach us; we cannot be rationally +amused, unless they will amuse us; we cannot but have some false +gods of our own, while they set up so many of theirs in all the +public places. The evil consequences of imperfect instruction, the +evil consequences of pernicious neglect, the evil consequences of +unnatural restraint and the denial of humanising enjoyments, will +all come from us, and none of them will stop with us. They will +spread far and wide. They always do; they always have done---just +like the pestilence. I understand so much, I think, at last.'' + +But the Master said again, ``O you labouring men! How seldom do we +ever hear of you, except in connection with some trouble!'' + +``Master,'' he replied, ``I am Nobody, and little likely to be heard of +(nor yet much wanted to be heard of, perhaps), except when there is +some trouble. But it never begins with me, and it never can end +with me. As sure as Death, it comes down to me, and it goes up from +me.'' + +There was so much reason in what he said, that the Bigwig family, +getting wind of it, and being horribly frightened by the late +desolation, resolved to unite with him to do the things that were +right---at all events, so far as the said things were associated with +the direct prevention, humanly speaking, of another pestilence. +But, as their fear wore off, which it soon began to do, they resumed +their falling out among themselves, and did nothing. Consequently +the scourge appeared again---low down as before---and spread +avengingly upward as before, and carried off vast numbers of the +brawlers. But not a man among them ever admitted, if in the least +degree he ever perceived, that he had anything to do with it. + +So Nobody lived and died in the old, old, old way; and this, in the +main, is the whole of Nobody's story. + +Had he no name, you ask? Perhaps it was Legion. It matters little +what his name was. Let us call him Legion. + +If you were ever in the Belgian villages near the field of Waterloo, +you will have seen, in some quiet little church, a monument erected +by faithful companions in arms to the memory of Colonel A, Major B, +Captains C, D and E, Lieutenants F and G, Ensigns H, I and J, seven +non-commissioned officers, and one hundred and thirty rank and file, +who fell in the discharge of their duty on the memorable day. The +story of Nobody is the story of the rank and file of the earth. +They bear their share of the battle; they have their part in the +victory; they fall; they leave no name but in the mass. The march +of the proudest of us, leads to the dusty way by which they go. O! +Let us think of them this year at the Christmas fire, and not forget +them when it is burnt out. + + +\end{document} + + +% End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Some Christmas Stories by Dickens +% diff --git a/old/cdscs10t.zip b/old/cdscs10t.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..56384ca --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cdscs10t.zip |