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He was a sialied workman, a clcver engineer. He could command a boiler wage than any ordinary clerk. Advancement was open to him. And he was handsome and full ci spirit—a favourites with everybody, there was a certain flaw in his moral system which barred out trust. E was not reliable. He was not dependable. He was a scalli- wag. The one romance of his life was his engage- ment to Nancy Charteris, the daughter oi one of his instructors in engineering, known to her friends as Nancy Pretty, with occa- sional variations to None-so-Pretty and London Pride. For Nancy was nroud- proud of her pure womanhood, proud of her mother, proud of her father, and, unfor- tunately for Tom, she would never nv.rry any man of whom she could not be proud. Tom was fond of company, and he did not choose his company wisely or well. hre used to soy that as long as there was plenty of go," he did not mind, what sort it was. So. on the whole, the company he mostly aiiected dragged him down, and did not lilt him up. This downward movement was at first very gradual, and his engagement to pretty Nancy no doubt had a staying influence. But the time came when Nancy began to look serious, and she said to him I don't think mother will let me marry y,j u, Tom, and I would never marry anyone against mother's will." But if you love me, what does it matter for your mother ? If you accept me, that's enough."# Yes, but I agree with my mother. I could never marry anyone whom I could not respect, and I could not marry anyone who does not respect himself or does not respect me. And I don't think that you respect either yourself or me as you ought to do." Now, Nancy," said Tom, don't start preaching. It doesn't suit your pretty face. I suppose all this is over the affair of Will Warren's supper-party at the Spread Eagle.' Well," she said, that has opened my eyes and helped me to make up my mind. You know two of the company were after- wards locked up for being drunk and dis- orderly and although you chose to give evidence for them, it came out that you were about as bad as they were." Very charitablé. I must say," sneered T,I. For mv part, I think nothing of a young man who has not spirit enough to enjoy himself with his fellows upon occasion." But is it not possible to pay too much for such enjoyment ? It is a question between that and me." Yes, I love vou," she said, quietly, but it is in this way. I gather a spray of flowers I and wear it on my breast, but by-and-by they lade, and I lay them aside—I put them away, though it may be they are still trea- sured among things that are dearest. I put the spray away, however lovely it may be. Su my love for you is withered. You have withered it. I put it away, though I will cherish it still among things that are dearest. .Now that you may know I have really put it away 1 give you back your ring." And she removed from her hand the circlet of diamonds he had given her a few months beiore. He took it from her and flung it upon the ground, and turned without a word and left her. Tom Morris always looked back upon the next fortnight of his life as a long, bad dream. Without any figure of speech he gave himself up to riotous living. Bridge was then in fashion with the set upon whose fringe he 'had been long hovering as an outsider and, hanger-on. Now he became one of then>. The climax and catastrophe came when in a wrangle with other cooler and wickeder than hinwif—for he was ever generous, straight- forward. and honest he struck one of his companions a blow, which, as it were by accident, endangered his life. Poor Tom Moms was arrested and sentenced to thirty da' imprisonment. Thus it was that for the i.rsf and last time of his life he spent Christmas in jail. Wncn Tom came out he was sobered to the Jowt-st roots of his being. Hewasanewman. it v,as many months, however, before he Could come to speech with Nancy. He must wait a fitting opportunity. The opportunity came in the last, though lingerin.9, Alness of his mother. Nancy could not resist the promptings of her old affection for the mother of her old lover. There were flowers to cheer her, and delicacies to tempt her failing appe- tite, and there waS occasional nursing to be done. One day, as she started to return home, he waylaid her, and said Nancy, may T speak to you ? There is something which I have long wanted to tell you." M Is it about your mother ? said Nancy. No. it is about myself. I want to tell you about mv imprisonment. Oh. that is too disagreeable. I would rather forget all about it." (i Yon may think it disagreeable, he said, earnestly. but it is really the brightest spot in my life. And I want you to know this and to understand how it is. Will you not }el me tell you ? She was silent for a little. Then she said To-morrow is Sunday, and in the after rtonu I will he here. When your mother is Tt. ;;r.g I will listen." Then he told his tale. •• 11 was just two days. Nancy, before Christmas that it happened. And after airef.t 1 had been in hopes that the Bench would deal leniently with me as Christmas was near, and let me off as a lirst offender witt-. line and a caution. But in this I was mistaken, as the offence was rather aggra- v.1,rf on account of th critical stite of the •p;V 'lo\. for t4in days alter the unfortunate :rit of bitterness an\t iver me as I j .e reception ward when I rMhs?- j -t r Should spend Christmas Dav j vails of a prison. The offroce ia hearted. It had not been always trnis witn me. I had once been much respected, and held, as you know, Nancy, a responsible and important position. Hence the conjunction of circumstances—in prison on Christmas Eve, perhaps cast off by you, Nancy—made it almost impossible for me not to look on the darker side and to take a desponding view of the situation. However, I felt that I must now settle down and make the best of it, although assuredly it was- A weary life thi- Vaults overhead and grates and bars around me.' Presently I saw the Governor, the chap- lain, and the doctor, and was soon removed to my location,' and for the next four weeks would be known as A 314. I had a plank bed to lie on, and that night sleep was wooed by me in vain. To make matters still worse, and to intensify the poignancy of my posi- tion, at twelve o'clock the strains of a band, accompanied at intervals by singing, came floating up on the cold, frosty morning air. The Christmas waits were ushering in Christ- mas morn, and were singing in delightful time and tune Christians, awake salute the happy morn.' What memories those strains awakened —into what depths of misery did they not plunge me I thought of you, Nancy, and how I spent last Christmas at your mother's with high hopes and joyous anticipations. About half an hour after getting up I heard steps along the corridor. It was the chaplain, on his mission of love and mercy, delivering the much-prized and treasured Christmas letters, and giving to each one t t he same time a kind and hearty Christmas greeting. To me it was a real gleam of light and love and sunshine, and helped to dispel the terrible gloom that had been gathering. 9 1 He quicklv noticed my distress and my down- cast look, and as he left me he said, with evi- dently some conviction of certainty Sorrow may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. I feel sure that there is a bright future yet before you.' I felt greatly helped and immensely cheered. The Christmas services began at eight o'clock with Holy Communion. I heard the chapel bell, but i was not permitted to go to this early service—which, as I afterwards learned, was reserved for those specially selected by the chaplain. About two hours afterwards the bell again rang-this time for morning service. For this service we were all paraded. Presently the various corridors became'alive with men marching to the I spacious and beautiful chapcl which stood at one end of the four cross divisions. Inside the chapel there was a delightful surprise. It was beautifully decorated. Here was the holly, all aglow with its bright red berries, and there were many evergreens besides, and flowers all artistically arranged. The chaplain's Chirstmas sermon was inter- esting—or, at least, it interested me and I thought it struck the right note on such an occasion. It has fixed itself in my mind. as, indeed, it was the turning-point in my life. The chaplain commenced by showing that the joy of the day-of Christmas Day- was entirelv independent of outward circum- stances, and though we were not surrounded by our friends as was our wont on such occa- sions, yet the distinguishing characteristic of Christ's Teligion was that it was a religion, not of outwardness, but of inwardness, and that whatever our outward circumstances might be. each one must feel a holy joy-a pure and peaceful pleasure—welling up in the heart when one thought of all that this day meant for us and for mankind. Joy in God, joy in Christ, joy in the Babe of Bethle- hem, Child of Light—this was the highest, serenest, purest joy of which the heart is capable. I don't remember many sermons, but I well remember the three divisions of that, to me, memorable sermon. He showed that Divine power, and Dwine power alone.c add effectually free us from sin's bitter thrall." le concluded his convincing sermon bv f ig a verse which I shall never forget, and v.mien I have cherished as a valued possession in my heart and soul ever since There is no place where earth's sorrows Are more felt than up in Heaven There is no place where earth's failings Have such kindly judgment given.' In the afternoon we were again allowet to attend church. There was a short address by the chaplain, and carolling by one of the prisoners. He was a star class man, and had a wonderfully sweet, clear, and flexible voice. He stood up in his khaki prison dress with the broad arrow before and behind, to the delight of all who had any taste for L de}ieate and refined singing. The chorus wc; thus, if I remember rightly I lie sang that tirst sweet Christmas Tlie song that shall never cease Gloty to God in the highest, On "zirth goodwill and peace.' That swen little carol did not pass with- out its effect ()1\ each and all. Tears were not far distant in the eyes of not a few when we thought of all that these words meant to ui and I re-solver that they should have a different and better meaning for me when ciext Christmas DaV canli- round again. And, Nancy, have I not kept tny resolution ? When he had ended, fancy's eyes were filled with tears. She said Tom, you have made me happy—I can- not tell how happy." No more was said then, but after that there seemed to be between them a tait under- standing. of which their eyes often spoke, though their lips did not. And when a year had passed, and Tom's mother had gone to her rest, Tom said one day Nancy, may not the faded flowers revive ? The blushes came and went upon her iv 1 lowers that are plucked must -witner and met"* But iove rooted in the heart will bear fresh flowers for ever." œThis was their new betrothal, and it was better than thw old. v Britain we are solidly, innately Of .'<• ■ m. We love tradition, and accept it on oyny M We eschew change and dislike innovation. Custom dies hard, and often lives beyond its deserts. We are not so much intentionally conservative, however, as naturally and unimaginatively so. Thus it is with Christmas and its festivities and the more cynical are apt to question whether the popular observance of this festi- val is not a national conspiracy of high tory- ism. The holiday part is all right. No one has ever objected to holidays since the world began—except the gold-grabbing, dourly dyspeptic American billionaire. Every healthily constituted mortal loves a holiday- loves to forget work and humour his hobby. So far, so good but this is exactly what is not allowed for an instant at Christmas. That is the tim £ when all have to live by rule and vote, and be bored by the set round of tra- ditional, out-of-date amusements, compul- sorily hilarious. Compulsory hilarity is in itself a penance, and entails an enormous expenditure of human voltage. But it is required of every one at Christmas and expected to last for at least two days and a half—often more. Wherever yon go, you have to be in the best of tempers and appear to be jovial at all hours of the day and night and everybody plays at peace on earth and goodwill. Christmas is essentially the time of com- pany, and no one is allowed to be alone even for an instant to read the paper or smoke quietly. It is. on the other hand, obligatory that each should form a unit of integral gaiety and take an active part in family life. Those persons who do not love family life are few and badly constituted but you can have too much of a good thing, when it extends itself to maiden aunts and crusty connections, from whom there are doubtless financial expectations to account for their presence. Be this the case, suitable gifts have to be provided, often more expensive than the gifts given from the heart and always more closely criticised. It is very seldom that some such element of discord does not interrupt the harmony of most family gatherings, especial- ly as people are apt to be too soft-hearted when sending out invitations for Christmas and feel it encumbent upon them to ask relatives who have no family of their own. Afterwards they regret it, and vow never to do it again but each year they persist, and often, in consequence, damp the enjoyment of the juvenile element. Again, in unattached elderly relatives there is always at the back of the mind an unexpressed and unworthy fore- cast of the last will and testament. There- fore, affection has to be similated at the most inopportune times, of which Christmas stands out worst of all. But take the juvenile clement referred to. For some forty-eight to sixty hours a youthful saturnalia reigns supreme. Each cne of their rules of life is inverted, and the fond parent endeavours by persistent over- feeding and unusually late hours to undermine the young constitution from a misguided sense of kindness. In most homes great attention is paid to the diet of the growing family and simplicity is aimed at. At Christ- mas, however, the children are, in contrast, allowed to gorge abnormally with utter dis- regard of the consequences. Again, they are usually sent to bed at a reasonably early hour, which insures their being fresh in the morning and prevents their being overtired at night. This, too, is another golden rule of infantile life which is allowed to lapse in honour of yule. Thus, overfed and overtired, there is a phy- sical reaction upon the temper, which, so often in the case of children killed by an orgy of kindness, ends the day happiest in a violent storm of tears, due to no other'cause but too generous a diet and too long a day. Adults also are apt to have their tempers tried by consistent overfeeding. Mr. Barrie has recently read us a moral on the subject, but the interests and well-being of Little Mary go absolutely to the wall at Christmas- tide. Whether a man is a millionaire or a ploughman, somehow on principle he always does himself a little better at yule-tide than at ordinary times, and one of the most charac- teristic sights of that season is a dinner-table surrounded by a cordon of elderly people, with moist, shining faces surmounted by gaudy paper caps of incongruous cut and colour. But above all plum-pudding, rich, succulent, and heavy is to blame. It is a gastronomic conspiracy of our grandparents guaranteed to tind out the weak points in the most splendid digestion. But not to eat this, the great dish of the day, is treason, and no one dare refuse. One must suffer to celebrate Christmas Then at this inopportnne moment come crackers and snapdragon, that most subtle invention of the liendish mind of the game maker, who pits greed on the one side against physical pain upon the other and gets his enjoyment by looking on at this unworthy contest of baser passions, and gloating with a cruel delight over his brother's burns and blisters. The ethics of snapdragon are highly reprehensible. These are what might be described as the internal nuisances of Christmastime, but there are also the external troubles—those outside the home and away from the domestic hearth. Of these the waits stand out in unenviable prominence. Itinerant musicians the diction- ary dubs them: but whilst admitting the former part of the definition one is apt to chal- lenge the latter. Then Christmas is the season of outgoings from the pocket. It is a time of financial strain and a constant drain on everybody's funds. There are first the contingent expenses relative to th" dissipation of the season, which are never grudged nor are the presents the donor wishes to give. But, in addition, there are many more or less compulsory presents to unloved relatives and persons of that stamp, which come hard upon the exiguous purse. Then there is the sending of Christmas cards, and the acknowledgment of cards received. Last 01 all. but by no means least, come tips and Christmas-boxe. At thi.i season everybody expects to be tipped, careless as to whether you can afford it or not, so long as their own pocket profi ts. The post- man, the policeman, the milkman, et hoc genus oriine,(It-iiiiii(i backsheesh in uncompro- mising terms and even the boy who delivers the halfpenny morning paper levies his quota 'rr.fV; I of extortion (. hmtraas, especially to the !!1,Ü1 householder, has become a "ery anxious time financially and k«es much of its p^ace and j goodwill owing to an ever present feeling of I anxiety about monetary matl<rs.

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