Twelve of us sat down. There was little change im our host this gladsome xnniversny morn. Que or tio threads of grey were added to crown and chin, one or two more lines t the crow-footed eye. But his voice was "s hearty as of old, his smile of welcome out-lived the welcome it gave, and rippling onward overflowed in' the sea of laughter which gathered round that irresistible presence like the nimbus round a saint. h and jest and jollity resounded lou! and long like to that in ancient Saxon halls when feasts were over, and minstrels play: d and sang, and love and beauty whispered, xnd stern chieftains and brave retwiners bade a truce with broils and footed it under the Druid mistletoe—surely in days of "storm und drony." little oases in chivalric lives, Tv-morrow will see them forth on some mission of hate or fury or revenge, but to-night they can count on a breathing tit halcyon quiet and undiluted joy.
Heroes of +n unheroic age were we, met to keep the memories of our lineal prodecessors green. Chivalry is dead—the inimitable Vervantes smiled Spain's away—bu' our host's smile only served to awaken the love and veneration we bore to these noble ones of the long ago; and entitled us to write his own name on the Jong. and glorious roll "f our immortals. We sat down therefore to that feast, but we knew it could not last and like hungry men remorselessly and ravenously gormandised kz owing that the Ing fast of the coming year wax near and that we must dive once m-re "in among the throngs of men." to-morrow " to fresh wonds and pasteres new." But this feast fit for the Gods was our inalicnuble right which came so seldom and passed so soon Nevertheless.
"One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.' And as the yule logs blazed cheerily and the holly berries sparkled " deeper crimson. in the genial glow, we felt that if the Elysian fields of which poets tell were half as delightful as they say, we might look
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.