Wrexham Guardian

ICHABOD COLD THE FINANCIER. A CHRISTMAS GHOST gTORY, toy LOUIS CECIL, Author of "Snow Flakes," EMc," Frcaen Ki5Ses," &e., &c. CHAPTER I.—How Ichabod saw the Ghost What the Phaut'-m aid, where it went, and how Ichabod was forced to follow. Kitty I,eg?nit. SLe said there were no such things as ghosts, but Icliabofi knew better. Hadn't the ghosts If all the halt-year's accounts been hutting bim affec- tionately during ihepast three weeks! Of course they had lo what need had Kitty to first deny the existence 8f ghosts, and then add insult to injury by telling that it war Christmas Eve? Ichabod that-knew it well en -ugh, aud hated ii Christmas Eve, indeed— out. upon Chria'ma. Mind your own business, and get to bed," SRid Ichabod and Kitty went.. Mr Ich ibod Crushem Cold was a wealthy man, and £ it:y was his niece. She was very pretty, but Ichabod tiduot keep her for that. He kept her because she was cheíSp, and be t'k d cheapness. Now if you ask me the precise UiitU'e of Mr J C. Cold's premises I muse frankly confess that I can't tell yon. He had an office in Bond- court, where he was known as a stockbroker on a Binall geale/and where one hungry looking clerk might per- sigtent'y be se("D trying' to persuade himself that he was doing something, and wsetting fat upon it. He had another little den of an office in Lower Thames-street, where be was helievtd t be a shipping auent, but where. in fact a amount of bJl discounting and transac- tions with floating taper were carried on, and in this department was another lean chrk, who bad been trying for some years that be had nothing to do, in which signally fmied. Nothing of a commercial value to prevent Mr J. C. Cold from turner upon it, provided always that he could t. per cent, interest for the loan. (se of Mr Ichabod was in Lloyd-square, and by his Leice Kitty, who was mistress, general nd sole companion to Ichabod-rolled into .bod was not a lomantic man. If the ghost of grea1 trrandfuther had appeared to him he uuve asked him calmly if be wanted a loan, and hat Fecnri'y be was prepared to offer. To-n'ght, how- ever Ichabod was not well. He had been seriously dih- composed the waole cay. In the first place it was Christmas Eve, and the two following days would be blank as regaids business. Phut alone was enough. Then ho had been pestered with people asking for Christmas and when the applicants were boys they got them—on the ear. To crown the whole his niece Kitty, had actually had the audacity to invest threepence—three whole penny pieces—six h-ilf-pence, twelve farthings of the current coin of the realm in a lot of worthless holy, with which to decorate the apartments of Lloyd-square. It was monstrous. Under all the circumstances it was not surprising, therefore, that when Kitty said, laughingly, that she did'nt believe in ghosts and that if there were any they could do no harm upon Christmas Eve, that Ichabod told her to go to bed. which, as the fire getting low,|was the best place for her. I hove said that Kitty went to bed—and Ichebod was therefore alone—at least he had no one with him but the cat and she was so thin that it was almost possible to see through her and count the hairs upon the other aide. Ichabod's first care was to go round the house. He tried all the doors and shook each window, and having completed his survey, he returned to the bar i parlour and sat down to an interesting and instructive I hook which was no other than his bank book. At last he roused himself with a shiver and looked at his dying ire, "It's very cold," he muttered, I'll hare some more ] eoal on must'nt put much though—coals are very dear," saying which he replenished the fire, picking up each lump of coal with tho tongs, for shovels were too ( wasteful aiticles to find a place in the establishment. This done be began to feel more jovial, his bankers' book had refreshed him, and he felt that come what would he ] sould face the world with considerable complacency. ] This consideration acted so powerfully upon the feelings •f Mr T. C. Co d that his grim features positively con- j torted themselves into the spasm of a tmile, and in the iuilneBS or heart he determined to indulge m the ex- travagance of a glass of grog. Having mixed his beverage, Ichabod seated himself again beside the hearth and watched the rei glow of the fire as the flickering C lames rose and fell, shining upon the bare walls, and making the bunches of green that Kitty had embellished j them with glow in the dim hght that elsewhere ihrouded the room. There was no light save that corded by the fire, for the gas had been cut off long ince, and candles were luxuries that Ichabod preferred 4 D dispense with. Now to a sentimental person there is » occupation so conducive to day dreams as watching a f-e, but I have already said that Ichabod was not a sntimental person. If you doubt me I stop short. Be iat as it may, certain it is that the fire began to assnme aost strange appearances—at one time the flame was rd, at another blue, and then again it became green. «3ad coals," said Ichabod impatiently, giving the fire a vtious poke. But it was not the bad coals, for directly ht stirred the fire the room became filled with adull white light and Ichabod was sensible of a Ssence other than his own in the apartment. locked up hastily, and then he saw a diminutive figure seated upon a settle on the opposite side 81 the hearth. It was a strange being upon wuch his eyes rested. The face was young but pale, ua bearing a stamp of age upon it which only hard auge in the world could have engendered. The body wai thin and long, and apparently wrapped round with ■ abets of ruled foolscap, closely covered with writing I .p<I1 which Ichabod could discover the mystic words, "TI twill frock coat, silk facings-£4 4s." It's legs wen shrunken and crossed as if deformed, and upon its teetit wore rough list slippers. Ichabod gazed upon tkil extraordinary figure for some time in silence. At leasthe said fiercely, Vbo the deuce are you ? Don't be rude to'a gentleman, Ichabod," replied bis "Did'nt know you were one," answered Icbabod. Yo* have my name pat enough anyhow." f' Ah I yes, Ichabod," again responded the unbidden IMt nodding his head in a very knowing manner, at « sane time giving a very ghastly grim, I know yoa kntW you wel! tt ras a curious thing, but when the figure grinned saw that it had no teeth, but it's month wa. 54 with needles. He began to feel uncomfortable. I Well," he said, You know me—who arejyou and it do 10U want V l'ln the ghost of tailors' bills, Ichabod," replied the re, and I want a loan." t the word "loan," Ichabod prickeallp his ears and n to breathe more freely. not accustomed to doing business with ghosts," plied, but if the security is good, why, I've no What do yon propOSQ 1" propose that you should come and see the security, NhinkCould be fairer—when ?" (fowl it's late and freezing bard, besides I've got a •i," aplwer Ichabod. • You Wvil come now Ichabod said the Ghost. My Ms are tod eaoaot be Stayed n which be rosf* and touched Iehffbob on the arm. Now there is not much in being touched on the arm unless the hand laid upon Nil is that either of a pretty girl or a ghost and in either case there is of course no resistance. So Ichabob rose and followed his risitor and soon foand himself in the open street. Although Ichabob was in the street yet he could swear that they had not passed through any door for all his were firmly fastened for the night, neither did they go threugh the window, so how they got out was a mystery. Further, although it was a bitterly cold night. and the snow was deep upon the ground, Ichabob did not feel chilly but appeared to glide after his conductor in a very unaccountable and unbusiness-like way. No one, however, in the street took any notice of them—not even the policeruen-and so after a while he began to recover his composure. They passed on swiftly and in silence, the ghost not once look- behind him, until they arrived in the ueigbbourhood of Whitechapel. Ichabob was not altogether a. stranger to the neighbourhood but even he was not prepared for the ghastly display of poverty that on every side met his gaze. j Out misery and vico were perceptible on every hand but still his guide passed on and he was perforce obliged to follow. At length they stoped before an old tumble-down tene- ment which no one would have supposed to be a human habitation were it not for a fickly ray of liyht that was struggling through an upper casement. I was almost betrayed into saying window, but as the remains of the frame boasted only a few square inches of glass the de- ficiency being supplied by paper, it would hardly be a correct term. At a sign from the ghost Icbabob followed him up the ricketty staircase on which, however, their footsteps made no sound, and at length they gaiBed the attic whence the ray of light, was diffused. Tho ghost entered the poor room and Ichabob followed. There was no fire in the rusty grate and a flaming tallow candle was the only light or rather mockery of light. Seated by it, peering so closely to the flame that at times her hair was singed, was a woman, stitching at some garment, stitching monotonously, although her eyes were dim and often blinded with hot tears which would occasionally fall upon the work she had in hand, then she would raise her head hurriedly and pass her wasted hand across her eyes and then begin again. Seated near her on a low stool was young girl whose attenuated hands, and shrunken figure was alone sufficient to tell of the prira- | tion she had undergone. There was no furniture in the room save that upon which the two women were seated, but in a heap of rags in the corner n child was lying moan- ing in the dilirium of fever, its sole covering being a few old rags and the portions of a new coat yet unstitched, the moans of a sick child. and the sighs of the two women were the only sounds that broke the stillness of the attic; but at last the elder of the two raised her head and said in a feeble voice— Tour father is a long time gone, Rose." Yes," responded the girl in a low impassire yoice- but hark !—there he is," -at the same moment a slow step was heard ascending the creaking stairs, and in a few minutes & man entered the chamber. The elder woman said nothing but gazed at him with a mute hungry appeal in her sunken eyes, but the younger raised her head and asked Woil, father ?" "It is no use" replied the man in a despairing tone, and as he glanced at his wife and children a spasm of pain crossed his pinched features. A gasping sob was the only reply. At'last his wife asked— What did he say?" "He said that he could not pay until the work was finished, and when I told him that we had not enough to get even bread let alone buy the cotton and silk, he said as I was to take the cloth back again." The girl buried her face in her hands—but unable to restrain herself further, burst into a passion of tears. "Oh mother," she sobbed, we shall die—we must die. and our poor little darling there too. Oh! what shall we do—what shall we do ?"— We'd best die, it seems to me" answered the man.1 "I passed by to-night where the grand folks are giving their parties an' such like. I asked them to-give me a trifle to save us all from starving, but they drove me away and told me to go to the House." "Oh! John, no—never—never" said the woman vehemently. "Father," cried the girl raising her head, "wou'dn't it be betrer to go to the owner of the shop. I know he's nothing in the business, but perhaps if you went to him and toid him all Mr Cold would give us a trifle as it's Christmas. 'Tis for him I would ask it," she added, glancing at the child. Mr Cold," said her father. His heart's as cold as his name. He cares nothing how poor folks suffer so long as he gets bis money." Ichabod started as he heard this, and felt that the eyes of the ghost were fixed upon him reproachfully. Moved by a—to him—novel impulse, he was about to step forward and give the man a few shillings when he again felt the hand of the ghost laid upon his arm, and at the same instant he found himself in the street. The feeling of compassion that, had starred him momentarily had HOW vanished and he felt quite himself again when the ghost said— Ichabod, I want a loan." Where's the security ?" asked Ichabod gruffly ? "There," replied the phantom, pointing its ghostly hand to the tenement they had just, quitted. "A pretty security" replied Ichabod contemptuously. man! replied the ghost passionately, "have you no heart—no feeling? Do not the sorrows of these poor. wretches we have junt quitted strike an answering chord in your breast ? Have you no mercy—no com- passion— or are you of and cold-cold as your name? What security ? vou ak. What better security can you have than the conscientiousness of a duty per- former—the knowledge of sufferings alleviated—the blessings of charity which descend more upon the giver than the recipient. Is this no security ?" "No," said Ichabod, "tuat is no security." The phantom raised its hand warnmgly," 011, hard of heart and cruel" it cried—"go your way, but you shall not forget!' All it poke it began 4o vanish from sight and iu- stantly Ichabod found himself seated in bis own room, brooJiug over the embers of the dying fire. He rose and shook himself impatiently. "Been dreammg," he said, bilious I suppose. I'll get to bed." CHAPTER II.—Ichabod Journeys into Kent. The Ancegtral Homes of England. Christmas at the Squire' Cottage Courtship. A Wife's Love. Ichabod carried out his resolution, he went to bed, and when he was comfortablv tucked in between the sheets, he wished he had'nt. It that the bed was un- comfortable, for it was'nt, but Ichabod was, and he kept turning and twisting, and still could get no sleep, usually he tumbled off into the land of nod npeedily and easily, but to-night the faces ot the three miserable creatures he had seen, and the moanings of the sicK child, kept him awake. So far the ghost had kept bis word, for Ichabod could not forget. It was no feeling of pity that animated his breast, however, but a growing anger with them and with himself.—with them for making him uncomfortable; with himself for permitting himself to be made uncom- fortable. It's all bosh said Ichabod, "I'll go te sleep." Oh, no you wo'nt Ichabod" said a merry laughing voice, II not yet." Another of em groaned Ichabod raising himself on his elbow to glance round the room, who are Now the windows of Lloyd square boasted no blinds, for bliiads were unnecessary articles of furniture, and the light of the square lamps shining through the casament. made every object in the room—and there were many things there—perfectly distinct. Ichabod looked to the door, it was fast locked. He looked to the window, it was also secured. He looked to where the fire place ought to have been, but where it was not, and then he did what anyone else would have done at first-he looked beside the bed. It was no unsightly object that returned his gaze, but apparently a merry laughing child of ten years or so, dressed in a scarlet tunic all crushed ever with frost and Inow, and trimmed with ivy and holly. Its hair was long and wavy, and fell in a golden shower over its shoulders, while upon its bead it wore a wreath of mistletoe. As Ichabod looked in amazement at this apparition, the figure broke into a succession of smiles and at last laughed outright. What do you mean by grinning at me ? asked Ichabod testily. What are you laughing at, eh ? At you—Ichabod was the reply, and once more the visitor brOKe into a mprry ringing laugh. make you laugh in a different fashion in a minute said Mr Cold, growing thoroughly angry, what are yon ?" I am a spirit." "Which ? asked Ichabod. The spirit of mistletoe," answered the risitor laugh- ing more than ever. a good deal more like the spirit of whiskey to my mind. Its all I ever took, why do you come into my room ? Because I chose—Ichabod. "You're precious free with your Ichabods. I don't know you and don't want to. Good night," remarked Mr Cold turning over on the other side. But I want ) ou Icbabod, replied the spirit of mistletoe. "Thea you can want" remarked Ichabod good night." Come, come, this wont do, get up Ichabod," said the ghost giving him a poke with a sprig of holly which he carried and laughing joyously as Ichabod winced. Humbug," answered Mr Cold, "I shan't, good night." Get up Ichabod," was the reply and the spirit of mistletoe dragged off all the clothes from the bed remorse- lessly continuing the while to flick Mr J. C. Cold with the branch of holly. Now holly leares are very pretty but they prick and so Mr Ichabod Crushem Cold began to think after he had received some dozen applications. What the Don't swear Ichabod; its rude," responded the ghost, carefully tickling Ichabod's bare feet with the holly bough. Don't swear." Who's swearing ?" asked Ichabod. A regular Cockney, I declare." replied the ghost, evading the question. Come, Ichabod, don't keep me here all night." •< Yoa can go," replied Mr Cold," '«as soon as you like. I don't want you," Very well. I'll go," answered the spirit of mistletoe, seising hold of Ickabod by the leg, and dexterously hauling him out on to the floor. Come along." Ichabod was just going to say that he'd—yes, be really was—bnt the touch of the spirit's hana had taken all opposition out of him, and he was condemned to obey his strange visitant. He rose from the floor, shivering terribly, nnd cast loving eyes at h's garments, which were tastefully disposed about the room, a pro- ceeding on his part that caused the spirit to laugh more heartily than ever. "No, no, Ichabod," he said, mis- chievously, you've wasted too much time alre&dy; you must come as you are," saying, which he clasped Ichabod by the hand, and together they floated out into the night air. Far out into the country they went this time, until they arrired before a glorious old fashioned house, buried dep,p amongst the woods of Kent. It was a cheery sight that old homestead, every window beam- ing with light an 1 a cheerful glow, suggestire of warmth and comfort on every side, whilst sounds of merry laughter were heard within. It was snowing heavily now, and lebabod began to feel rather col t about the legs. liight glad was he, therefore, when they passed the portal and stood in the old hall. Well, for it looked cheerful from the outside it Wlii a thousand times better within. That old hall was a picture.* The girls had wreathed the old place round till it looked like a bower of green, stadded all over with red and white berries, with the light from some score of wax I candles, and the ruddy flames of a roaring fire shining npon the whole. The owner of all this luxury, a bluff good-natured gentleman of the old school, "the squoire" as he was called thereaboats, stood with his back to the fire, a hearty smile upon his jolly face, as he watched the proceedings of the other occapants. There wrre lots of girl^—such girls too—not an ugly one amongt them. Evan Ickabod was stirred from bis usual phlymatic indifference, and after le8grhened con- sideration began to think that possibly they might be pretty, whilst as for the spirit of mistletoe he kissed every one of them, and whispered into their ears, and ruffled their hair, and treated them as if he had knuwn them all bis life, laughing the while as if matrimouy was an infinite joke, and benedicts being much to be envied. There were a great number of boys there too, some called themselves men," others were considered I. fellows," and there were boys who were not ashamed to be known as boys, and the laughing and kissing and greetings that went on between those boys and those girls was something to excite surprise. But the squire smiled, and seemed to think it was all right; and his wife, dear old soul, seated in her armchair, beside the fire, was evidently of the same opinion. No one took any notice of either Ichabod or the ghost, and so I sup- pose they did not them but they were ther-oh, yes, they were there—and Ichabod began to think that Christmas was really not such humbug after all. "Now my boys and girls," cried the hearty old squire. "come away from that mistletoe. You'll have injured lips if you stay much longer. Come, let's have a dance." They came away, and so did many sprigs of mistletoe. Well, they soon got a dance, the tquire and his daughter Bella leading off, and the old gentleman was just as fresh and active as any one of the youngsters. They danced on and on, the ladies taking it in turn to settle some good old fashioned jig out of the grand piano that stood on one side of the hall, and between the dances there was more kissing, more bugging, more blessing, more flirting, and more laughing than Ichabod had ever heard, seen, or dreamt of. At twelv o'clock they all sat down to supper—not to a make-believe suppeY-but to the sort of meat that one can eat after dining at one o'clock and walking ten miles afterwards. And as the clock bad chimed midnight, ushering in Christmas Day, the squire ro e to bis feet and lifted his glass, saying. A happy Christmas to us all. God bless us all and everyone." Ichabod, in the excitement of the moment, cried hear, hear," but as he did so the scene faded from his view, and he found bim*eif once more gliding through the air with the spirit uf Mistletoe at his side. Plenty of kissing, Ichabod," said his conductor slily as they sped along. Plenty," replied Mr Cold laconically. Its very nice," remarked the spirit of Mistletoe. Is it ?" said Ichabod, I don't know anything about ) it. It is not my business." "Oh yes it is, lcbabod-its everybody's business. What do you suppose lips were made for ? Try a few It I do, may 1-" What ?" asked the spirit of Mistletoe, stopping short. Nothing," answered Ichabod. The spirit of Mistletoe laughed heartily as he replied, Wait a bit, Ichabod—wait a bit; we'll make you re- cant, yet." They stopped next before a small cottage at the end of a straggling village street, a tumble-down cottage at best, which looked as if the builder had dropped it down there by mistake and sat upon it. It was homely ana cheerful enough, though, with the firelight shining through the window upon the white expanse of snow without, and the sprigs of holly resting against the panes. Ichabod looked through and saw a comely-look- ing girl silting before the tire. She had some work upon her lap, but she had dropped her needle, and now sat gazing at the glowing coals. So abstracted was she that she did not notice the opening of the door as a young man stepped quietly and noiselessly in. He was a fine well-built fellow, and now his ruddy face was flushed with the cold and exercise, making his honest features quite handsome. He stole softly up behind the girl, and tak:ng her head between his hands, pressed his lips upon her own. A merry Christmas to my darling," he said, Ob, Jack, how you startled me." That was the reason, I suppose, why you didn't give me half a kiss. I shall have another now, Maggie." The girl blushed, but she didn't say he mustn't, go I suppose the didn't mind, at least, not much. Anyhow, the lucky dog got another kiss, and more than one, unless I am much mistaken. Then sitting down beside her, he took her hand in his, and told her how his employers hud praised his work greatly, and that as it was Christ- mas time they bad given him much higher wages. "No more waiting now little woman," he said gaily. —" we can be married now can't we The girl hid her face upon his shoulder, and said—well, I don'tknowVhat she sdld, fcr all these little matters are as Greek to me, but still he seemed satisfied, and so 1 suppose I ought to be. Ichabfd wasn't satisfied. The last scene had quite upset his equanimity. A pair of fools he said savagely. If I bad my way I'd aip them both in the nearest horse pond, and see if that would not cure them." You are hasty Ichabod," said the Spirit, "if that rule were carried out you would have been ducked long since." "Never," said Ichabod, and he is not the first man who has said the same thing with his convictions in an opposite direction. you like matrimony ?" asked the Ghost. No, I don t," answered Ichabod, it's all humbug." I'll show you some," said the Spirit of mistletoe with a roguish look look. This time they passed into a small neatly built house, some miles away from the cottage they had first quitted, and entered the small plainly furnished parlour. Seated in ala arm chair by the hearth was a young man, whose head was bowed upon his hands—whilst bis frame shook aud qoivered with suppressed emotion. Kneeling at his feet, her bands clasping his knees with an imploring look upon the upturned girlish face, was his young wife. "Frank—dearest Frank," she cried, "tell me what has happened." I cannot," eobbed her husband. Cannot ?" My darling when you are in sorrows and trouble who should share it but your Klsie ? Oh, my love my love," answered the man straining her to his breast, your love kills me." "What is it, Frank ?" II It is ruin—disgrace," sobbed the wretched man, alld then he told her h"w he had been tempted and led astray, how he had fallen through his own folly into difficulties, and had at length yielded to an overwhelm- ing impulse and forged his employer's name. It had been found out, as of course it must, and he was dis- missed his employers refraining from prosecuting on account of his young wife. She heard him to the end, looking up at him with a white dazed face. Oh Frank, hew could you ?"—This exclamation broke involuntarily from her lips—and hearing it, the man threw himself back in the chair and sobbed bitterly. My darling, my darling," cried his young wile, throwing herself into his arms and covering his face with kisses—" I will not reproach you—it was your love for me tempted you. Ah Frank dear, you have done wrong, but the future may atone for the past, and your little wife will help you to repair the eril you have dowe. Look up dearest, look up. My boy must not quite despair. Besides, it is Christmas Eve. Let us think of the happy time that has come for all, and dream of the bright and honoured future you shall yet win." Elsie, my sweet wife," exclaimed the man clasping her loringly in hisarinC^" you have given me new life —you have bid me hopt(|-all is not yet lost." All can never be lost; dear one," said his young wife, brushing back the disordered hair from his forehead, all can never be lost while we still have love." I "Well," said the Spirit of Mistletoe as they left the house, is matrimony all humbug ?" No," replied Ichabob reluctantly, I don't think it is." Happiness, — peace, — goodwill,—charity,—love,— are they all empty words—all humbug ?" "I'm not quite sore," responded Mr Cold diplomati- cally. Is kissing humbug," pursued the Ghost, once more breaking into a hearty laugh. say. Never tried it." Will you try just once Ichabod ?" "Yes," responded Icbabod, I will." The Spirit of Mistletoe laughed gaily, and kissing his hand to Ichabod, vanished. Ichabod started, rubbed bis eyes, and at last found that he was sitting ap in bad with the coonterpane and etceteras lying in a heap upon the floor. He hastily gathered them together, and wrapping them closely round him, fell fast asleep. CHAPTER III.—a Night Vision. The Spirit of Christmas Bells. The Waits. The Bed Cross. Chrlatmu Cheer. One—two—three. That was the church clock in the next cquare, and it woke Ichabod. He started, and muttered an anathema against clocks in general and that clock in particular, and, as he did so, a silvery ringing voice sounded in his ear. Yes, four o'clock; we must make haste, Ichabod." Ichabod's former risitors had deprived him of all feelings of surprise, and had also taught him that blunter was of no avail with ghosts. He, therefore, without troubling himself to enquire whence the sounds proceeded, quietly wrapped himself more securely in the bedclothes, Buying resolutely, I'm not gomg out any more to-night." you come with me, Ichlibod, said the visitor, in a tone of voice so sweet that Ichabod, despite himself, was compelled to have a look. It was a beautiful being that met his eyes. The figure of, apparently, a young girl, clothed in a shining transparent gown, over which the auburn hair fell in luxuriant tresses. The eyes were of deep blue, and were now fixed upon him wi'h a look that was sufficient to turn the beads of twenty confirmed bachelors, and, as for the rosy tremulous little mouth— words won't describe it-and even Ichabod began te think that twenty years of pain would be a cheap price to pav for only one kiss Won't you come with me," again asked the being. Yes, I will," responded Mr Cold, gallantly. I'll goanvwhere with yon, miss." Don't call me mips.' I'm a spirit, Ichltbod-the spirit of Obrilltmaq bells; and I must not stay long, the world will be waiting for m3 in two hours—come," and streching out its hand it grasped Ichabod, who again found himself gliding through mid air. As they emerged from the house, all the bells in every church iteepie commenced to ring—to peal out joyously but s»ofr)y, so softh and swee'ly that they would not have disturbed the lightest sleeper, but clearly and distinctly for all that. No human ears but those of Ichabod heard those bells, bat their music sank deep into bis soul. They spoke to him of peace and love and charity. They whispered to him of was'ed opportunities of doing good, and then, suddenly changing their saddened notes, rang out a joyous peal of hf pe ard Ichabod wept. What is the matter ?" asked the spirit kindly. I was thinkmg of a poor family I saw last night," replied Ichabod. "They were starving, and the child was ill" A blessed ta"k to relieve such," answered the spirit. "It is, it is," answered Ichabod sorrowfully, "but I did not relieve them." The Spirit of CbristmasVlooked at him for an instant reproachfully, and then said gently, Hope still." They had long left London behind them, and now stood in the straggling street of the little country town. A party of men and boys were seen commg up the street. They were all muffled up to the throat, and many earned instruments under their arms, for they were the waits. The spirit drew Ichabod on one side, and motioned him to listen to what hey were saying. Where shall we go first, Bill ?" asked one of the men who appeared to be the leader of the patty. Dr Elgood's I think." replied the man addressed. "No, no, Bill." responded the first speaker. "Why not," enquired BIll in some surprise. "You would not go and leave the doctor out surely. Ain't there many of us aa owes our lives to him ?" Are, that there be" answered a chorus of voices. I mind manv a time." said a man who had not yet spoken. •' when times were hard that the doctor has given us a lift with money an' food, and never charged us nought for attendin' on us neither." So do we all" was again the cry." Let's go to the doctor's first ♦ Now look ye here" replied the man who objected. I loves the doctor as much as any of you—and no one can do nothing hut lore him, but he was with my missus this morning till one o'clock, an' he said as how he'd see her sgain at six. I don't call it kind of us to and wake 'im np just as he's got to sleep, do you ?" right—he's rig-ht" was the unanimous response —" let's go t'other end and then we can take the doctor's as we come back," trying which they turned their footsteps m a different direction to that at first con- templated and soon afterwards the sound of a Christmas carol was heard in the distance. Sweet to be lored like that by these rough lugged men" said the spirit, Ichabod said nothing, but perhaps like a good many taciturn ptople he thought the more. Come, said the spirit, we must haste," and again they sped rapidly onward. It was to a stately castle that they now directed their flight, a castle unsurpas-ed in grandeur by any in England, the owner of which owned more in lands and property than any of the nobles of the country. Lights were gleaming from the windows and persons were hurry to and fro, but no sounds of seasonable festivity were heard. A settled gloom seemed to hang over the place for the master 01 all this splendour, the last of a long line of feudal scions lay in his luxurious chamber dying. It was to this chamber that the spirit led Ichabod. The room was magnificently furnished. On all sides Cculd be seen lavish cost and tasteful splendour, hut the dying man alcne-alone save for the hired nurse who seated in an arm chair by the bed, listened wearily and impatiently to his moans. He was tossing rest- lessly upon the bed as Ichabod and the spirit entered, writhing in anguish of spirit in that mental torture compared with which bodily pain must be a paradise. Will *he never com asked the wretched man, it will be too late-too late." Now, mv lord" said the nurse authoratatively. you must not take on like that. She'll come no doubt." Are you sure they hare sent for her, nurse—quite sure 1" "Yes, yes, they've sent for her." "Too late, too late," again almost shrieked the dying man." "Go and fetch her I say," he added, rdising himself in bed and clutching at the curtains in hit agony. I am here, dear father," said a sweet voice, and a young girl dressed neatly but very plainly entered and walking swiftly to the bedside clasped her father's hands in hers and kissed him tenderly upon the forehead. The sick man shrank from the caress as if it burnt him. .1 Lucy," he gasped, can you forgive your father. I have been cruel to you, child. "I have long since forgiven" said the same sweet voice. Where—where is your husband, Lucy ?" Downstairs, will you see him ?" he nodded assent. and in a few moments a young man entered and stood beside his wife. Forgive me," sobbed the dying lord. The young man clasped the extended hand in a warm close grasp that spoke more than words could convey. There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the grasping breath of the dying man and the stifled sobs of his daughter. "Lucy," he said, in a painful tone, "You are mistress here now. Make better use of wealth than—I—have— done. Oh, that I could recall cne deed of kindness that would cheer me now—but no, all his blackness—nothing but jeering foes laughing at my fall. Oh, that I could have but one year—a month—a week. I can't die," he screamed egain, almost throwing himself from the bed, die-ring-Gcd have—Lucy—" but with the closing word the jaw dropped, and the lord of millions fell back dead. "Spirit, said Ichabod, "show me no more, I can't bear it." The Spirit of Christmas Bells said nothing, but pointed in the direction that they were next to pursue, and grasped Ichabod more firmly. They passed on more swiftly now over the rolling waves of the ocean, over many a stately city and less pretentious town, until they came to a mountain region where the snow was lying thick and deep, and where the vultures were wheeling, making night hideous with their croakiiigs that sounded like groans of utter pain. Far down in the defile were a few scattered lights and one wood building, above which the red cross was floating. Ichabod and the spirit descended and entered the hospital. There stretched on rough couches ranged on either side of the shed, were stout bearded soldiers, moaning in the agony of pain or raving deliriously, some swearing terribly, others recounting deeds of cruelty that chilled the blood to hear —others babbling of home and little ones left far behind. Fliting from couch to couch, cooling the fevered brows, smoothing the pillows, calming with a gentle word the fury of delirium, administering restoratives, and re-adjust- ing disordered bandages, we e the ladies of the Red Cross —the heroic nurses, ladies by birth and education, delicately murtured. tenderly reared, now facing calmly all the horrors of sight and sound incidental to that most terrible of all plagues—war bearing without a mumur cold and hunger and fatigue for the sake of doing good. Ah! madame, but you are so good" said a young soldier in broken French, as one of the ladies smoothed his pillow and cooled his fever parched lips. Do you suffer much asked the nurse gently. "No, it is nothing" replied the youth, and I feel little pain when you are by madame. Mort de Dien said a villanous looking man lying on the next couch, but I love her—I almost wish I'd lived a better life. Sacre! she nearly makes me begin to like those hateful English—" Allah's ways are wonderful." answered a voice from an adjoining pallet, 'tis strange that a mere woman should be so beautiful and so tender. She may be saved, I hope she will be." Spirit," said Ichabod, this is very well, but could not works of charity be found for these ladies in their own country. Is there not enough nursery there to relieve; is it necessary that they travel so far to do good, and is not some selfishness, some love of notority guiding their actions as well as philanthropy ?" Is it for you to judge them," asked the spirit of Christmas bells sadly. "It is not," said Ichabod, "alas, I know it now too well—but I will do my best in the future to atone the wasted past." There is much to be done in England, it is true," said the Spirit, do you know that it is not being done ? Ichabod hang his head. "I do not know," he replied. Come theD," rejoined the spirit, we will see and again they sped swiftly homewards. They past amongst the toiling, teeming maltitude of oar great cities—amongst the daily workers for mere life, and many a lesson ef self-denial, love, aud charity did Ichabod learn from these lowly totlers. He saw a mother denying herself all that he children might be fed. He saw a father stripping himself of his coat and rest to shield his wife, and laaing the bitter cold without a murmur. Since she slept soundly soothed by the unusual warmth. He saw the pocr in purse, bat rich in warmth of heart, daily, working amongst misery and want and crime, and striring to alleriate the woes of them less fortunate fellow men, and in a few, a very few instances he saw the rich and the great ftep from their pedestal, and also work in the name of charity and love for their brethren's good, for the kinship caoBot be de- stroyed, however much it may be disregarded and ignored. He saw the grimy toilers of the earth boldly facing an almost certain death to attain the release of imprisoned comrades—daily instances of patient en- durance, unheard-of and unheeded heroism, difficulties conquered, and 8;;10 constantly forgotten—these Were the lessons that he learnt, and which he rowed not to forget. "The time grows short, Ichabod," said the spirit, very short." Spirit," replied Ichabod, what shall I say. How thank you for what you have shown me. What shall I do?" Say nothing, but do as these have done." "I will," answered Ichabod, and he meant it. And now, Ichabod," said the spirit, laughing a silrery little laugh as it spoke, How about Christmas. Out upon Christmas,' I think yoa said. You don't like Christmas, do you ?" I don't know qnite," replied Ichabod hesitatingly. "I nerer kept. I think I like it better than I did." Ah!" said the Spirit of Christmas Bells, my brother Mistletoe taught you something. Anyhow, Ichabod, I'll shotf you how to keep it. and then you can judge if you like it or not." As the spirit spoke, Icnabod found himself standing in a large old fashioned room. It was a strange sort of room, at least it appeared so to Ichabod, for it was a curious mixtHre of a kitchen and a parlour. There was a wide-open fireplace fitted with seats in the chimney corner, and upon the anciest dogs or fire-irons huge logs were burning brightly, shedding a genial glow throughout the apartment and roaring in the chimney like a small furnace. Beside the hearth were two comfortable arm chairs with corresponding footstools, and in the background were numerous old chairs of oak that time and polish had caused to shIne like glass, making tbeir every corner glow and gleam in the flickering firelight. The massive table was of the same highly polished oak, and the walls of the room were pannelled huH-way up with a similar wood. Massive oaken beams crossed the low ceiling, from which depended whole sides of bacon, strings of onions, apples in bags, and a couple of old rusfy fowling pieces. The walls were hung round with bunches of holly and ivy, and festoons of green were twined all round the diamond paned window, whilst the mistletoe, the immortal, never sufficiently to be adored, hang from the centre beam in a delightful posi- tion, so that no one could fail to pass under it. Upon the table steamed a large bowl of wassail in which the apples were hissing and lIimmeriDg Seated in one of the chimney corners was an old man dressed in knee cord breeches, boots, and a rough freize coat. He had a comfortable looking red face and a hearty laugh which alone was sufficient to tell the observer that he was a good natured jovial person. Opposite to him was a stout comely woman, his wife, who surveyed her lord and master from time to time with an expression that showed her firm belief in him as the best and noblest of mankind. Bound the hearth in a sort of half-circle were the other members of the family. There was the oldest son, a sturdy young farmer, clad like his father in rough frieze, sealed next to the dearest girl in the world," who had promised ere long to unite her fortunes with his, and there was the only daughter, a saucy rosy cheeked damsel with her hand clasped in that of the very best man in the world," undoubtedly, apparently bent upon imitat- ing the example of the other fair lady. Next to these young couples were seated two old retainers of the family, a man and his wife who had worked upon the same farm and lived in the same house since childhood, who had lived and grown old together, and still considered that affection was the purest of all earthly ties. stretched at full length upon the earth were two old sheep dogs one minus an eye and the other considerably at a disadvantage with respect to ears, which were (vidently thoroughly enjoying the warmth. All this looked very cheery and comfortable, aud Ichabod quite envied the occupants of the room. Soon far away in the distance the bells of the little village church were heard pealing over the snow. Hark," said the old farmer. there are the bells telling us it is Christmas eve, 'tis many a happy Christmas you and I have spent in this old house, many a happy day, old lady. Let's give him a hearty welcome say 1. I love the time. God bless it." "Come," he added gaily, "a truce to love making, fill up your glasses, and drink a health in honour 01 old Father Christmas." All complied with the request at once, and the toast was drunk heartily, but the old farmer laughed gaily as he observed the blushes which were mantling upon the cheeks of the two young girls. I suppose," he said, you girls think Christmas time is a first rate excuse for making love, don't you." "Indeed, father," rejoined his daughter glancing archly at the mistletoe, you yourself had given us a good reminder. '•You're a saucy wench," responded her father. ''I'd pay you out if my old legs were not so stiff. Tom kiss her for me, will you." The young man addressed receired this proposition in such good part, and responded to it so heartily, that the example became quite infectious. Jack, the eldest son, kissed his fair partner, the old serrants indulged in a sounding smack, and the farmer himself forgot his stiff- ness, and crossing over to the old lady saluted her affec- tionately, lack," said his father, when the mirth occasioned by this episode had subsided, "did you take the bit of pork and the things do,m to the Miliotsons." Yes," replied his son, and I also called upon Bryant. He's laid up with rheumatism, so I sent him a few things, and a bottle of your infallible *rub,' too." "That's well," answered the old man. "You didn't forget widow Jones—eh, Bessie?" "No, father Ellen and I called, I am sure, on every one this morning, and our good old Ben here," laying her hand tenderly upon the shoulder of the old servant, carried our big basket for us." Oi'd carry anything a'most for the sake of your pretty face, Miss Bessie," answered the old man, let alone on such an errand as that." Well said," cried the farmer. "You told them that I was afraid to venture in the snow, I hope," he added anxiously. We did, father," was the response. "That's right," said the old man heartily. "I wouldn't have 'em think I forgot at Christmas for worlds. Now as we know our poor neighbours are cared for we can enjoy ourselves. Come Jack, my boy, a Christmas song—and then for supper." The young man complied, and in a strong, though un- trained voice, commenced a song in honour of Christmas At this instant the spirit of Christmas Bells touched Ichabod, saying, We must not stay." "Only a few moments," pleaded Ichabod, whose tears had been falling fast as he heard the charity of the good people spoken cf as a matter of coutse, and not as if it were any merit, only a few moments more, spirit." It must not be—come." At this instant the sound of the bell? pealing forth more lustily reached the ears of both. Hark!" said the spirit. I am wapted." How shall I thank you ?—how bless ?" asked Ichabod, still holding firmly to the mantle of his visitor. By learning the lessons I have striven to impress upon you, and by practising what you do learn." "I will-I will," answered Ichabod firmly. You will not forget ?" asked the Rpirit, gazing upon Ichabod with its kindly eyes, as if it would read his thoughts. It You will not forget." "I will not, Spirit; I will not. I have learned that charity and love are the be-r attributes of man, and, God helping me, I wiil follow teaching." Yet there is no security for such deeds, Ichabod. They will not yield yoa cent. per cent." "Not in worldly wealth I grant you," answered Ichabod, but I have seen that they yield a hundred- fold in happiness and peace." It is well, Ichabod," replied the spirit. This will be to yoa a blessed Christmas dar. My time has expired I must go." Not yet—not yet," cried Ichabod, stretching out his arms to detain his visitor; but as he did so, the Spirit of Christmas Bells gradually vanished from his sight.. With a sob he started, as he saw the retreating figure of the spirit, and awaking, found himself sitting upright, in his bed. The light from the gas-lamp was shining full ioto the room and the sound of the Christmas bells peal- forth from the church in the next square ringing weetly in his ears. OHAPTEB IV.—Ichabod, the Philanthropist. A Marvellous Christmas Load. The Lessons the QholtM enforced. Ichabod w as out of bed in a second. He did not stay to consider that it was only six o'clock. He felt that he must get up, and he did so. All his cold calculating business-like habits were forgotten. He was trembling all over with excitement, and bow he got into his clothes is a mystery. However be did manage it at last, and so long as they were on it was perfectly satisfactory to him. I must begin at the beginning," said Ichabod, I'll go to Whitechapel. The spirit of tailors' bills said I must not forget, and I won't. Dear me, what a long time it will take to get there though." Away he went, astonishing the few early pedestrians who were about by his eager walk and animated gesture as he threaded his way through the snow-blocked streets. He found a few early shops open—shops that thought Christmas Day was as good as any other. Ichabod concurred in this view. it eaved him knocking the owners up—for he would have pulled the grocer and the butcher out of bed to attend to him without the slightest remorse. He called a cab. Ichabod hadn't been inside a cab for twenty years, but what did that matter ? And the way he loaded that cab waa wooderfol. There waa scaraelj reaa inside it for him when he had finished sucti ued, such groceries, and more than the whole of Whirectispfl pat together could have consumed in a week. B i* he dii not stoo there, but hurry.ng back to LloydWqaar# pulled the blankets off his own bed aud threw r hela into the cab, and then he set off for W lwecliapd. Hf soon found the place, and before the clock struck eight stood in the miserable attic that he had se en itie night before. No pen could paint the j >y of that poor tailor and his family, and I shall not attempt what all would fail to accomplish. If anybody daubts my him imitate Ichabod, and then try to write what he has seen. Ichabod left. Whitechapel with the muraiars ot heartfelt blessings ringing in his ears and the music of tboaa unusual sounds thrilled through hiin. H: felt in a very trance of delight and his ey——thos» cunning tlyes that people dreaded—were hjw ing and twitching in a manner that defies descrip- tion. Many and many a desolate home wtre sickness and misery abounded, did Ichabod n-er that morning, and to each he cam. like an angel of meicjt scattering blessings in his path. "I forget Kilty," he thought at last, se he turned He had not peen how Christmas night was to be sept fat nothing. "We must have some bolly," he said, ar>d he bought some—not a miserable three penny wurih. aboat which he had raved the previous evening. IcLa meant '0 make Lioyd-square a very bower that day. and five tlbilungl was gone in no time. Then the m'stieto^ such a bunch, big enough to kiss 20 girls under at ooca, and Ichabod would have done it too, if tne girls bti been sensible enough to have come forward. He did not forget the dinner either, and when the cab stopped at Lloyd-square Kitty was thrown into a s'atfl of utter bewilderment, at seeing her usuallvjcold uncle blocked ia the cab by innumerable parcels, whole bundles of holly and mistletoe, and with a hugh turkey lying in hit lap. Take the parcels, Kitty. I can't stir," he gaspec1, glowing all over with delight as he noted her astonish- ment, and at last the vehicle was unburdened of its load. Such a sight had never been seen in Lloya squate before, and Kitty felt faint. She was soon reassured though, for when the cabman was dismissed with a double fee, because it was Christmas day, Ichabod took her in big arms and kissed her affectionately. A happy Christ- mas, dear," he said, "A very happy Christmas, and may this be but one of many happy days we shall epfnd together. Kitty, I have seen a terrible sight. I have seen myself as I was, bat not, please God, as 1 shall be." It was a day, a long day, that Ichabod long looked back to as the happiest of his life, and endorsed his sentiment in every way. He did'nt forget the lesson* taught him, but lived to carry out many and many as unostentatious work of charity, and, as for leve, ask Kitty if she loved him, ask the poor, the sick, and the old the young struggling man fighting against poverty, hoping against hope, and you will have your answer. He never married though. He loved everyone so well he could find no one he lored better than the rest. He always kept Christmas well; that te him was the anniversary of the day when he entered upon a new existence, and be loved it, and welcomed it. A merry Christmas and a happy new year to you all" he used t* say—"God bless the time, and bless us all." And so say I.

A Cubioos Twelfth-Night Custom.—Of the many strange customs observed in various places during Christ- mas, or the beginning of the new year, few seem to be more curir us than the one known as the Festival of the Bean King," which was—and possibly is still—held in certain parts of France and Germany on Tweiftb- Night. This was an entertainment, artended by numer- ous persons who devoted the evening to mirth and sports, in the course of which a large cake, containing somewhere within it a buried benn, was produced and cut up. Each person present then receives a piece of this and he who obtained the slice contain:ng the bed was at once proclaimed the Twelfth-Ni-hi King. A mock ceremony next followed, in which, amid acclamations, the pretended monarch was placed upofe the throne; and afterwards he not only held a court at which the homage of all the assembled co-npanv wu, paid to him, but he sustained his regal cnaracer through- out the remaining diversions of the evemnjr, and con- tinued to be known by the title of Bean K ng" until the following Twelfth-Night, when his successor waa similarly, cnosen. In former days even the king and the nobles of France held a festival of this kind; and it M from it, or a similar custom, that the kaymg, He has found the bean in the cake"—meaning that a person has unexpectedly met with good fortune—arose. LittW hoiks. I THE Coming Yeab.—May not its character depend upon its beginning ? May it not be a year of sin, or of spiritual growth, according as to-day, at its commence- ment, we either put aside all serious thought, all real concern for our souls, or determine in God's strength, and in earnest supplication, to live with a more single eye to His glory, and with more anxious efforts for the salvation of our soul ? The past is gone we may re- pent of it, may grieve of it, may go mourning for what we have done in it all the days of our lives, but we cannot alter Nothing can change the wn ing in that book for every deed that we do is, like the soul if.seljj immortal. It may be thoughtlessly, rashly done but, once done, nothing can change it. Throughout all eternity that deed must live and though re.-en-.inoe I can rescue us from it.s cons- quences, yet it cannot render that deed undone. But the future is yet ours. Ir still may depend on ourselves. The sin to which our present 'I pathway leads us may yet be escaped. Not yet are we hopelessly lost. The prayer of a contrite heart put up to-day at God's throne may alter the whole character 01 I the coming year. The past may be poilu ed with guilt dark as crimson conscience may harrow up oar souls with remorse for crimes nerer to be recalled bat I the future is still bright with mercy. Its record may be I rae-t of pardon and Deace. And whether it be so or' not must in great measme depend upon the manner in which we begin the new year. It ma-it depend upon the spirit in which we enter upon its long round of months I whether it be carelessly, and in unconcern, or in deep and humble penitence, and firm trust in God, and earnest praver for him to help.—The Dean of Canterbury is Sunday at Home. THE We-levs.—Stokes Croft, Bristol, is not, and I never has been accounted, a very aristocratic neighbour- hood, though about a hundred a ed twentv years ago one of its houses was inhabited by a family reputation is world-wide, and their aame in one form or the other a household word wherever the English tongue is spoken. In the parish of St. James', and near those carious, dingy old arcades, which remind one of the Galeries de St. Hubert at Brussels, not far from the Bro-idmead Rooms* or the city marker, it was an admirable situation foi the abode of a man whose means were modet if his interests were large, and here Charles Wesley and his Welsh wife Sarah Gwynne commenced housekeeping in 1749. We can imagine that to the young matron who spent a» many moaths alone while her husband was ab=ent on his preaching tours the old city was as pleasant and con- venient a residence as could well have been found not too far from her old home at Garth and within a short distance of Kingswood, which was so great a centre of Methodist education and business. Mere were born her eight children, here six of them died, two from small-pox in their childhood, and here she herselt endured the worse form of that loathsome malady, which robbed her of her good locks, and as she laughing! v said, "ffordecl great satisfaction to her dear husband, who was glad te see her look so mach older, and better suited to be bit companion." Most women at the age of twenty-six woild have deemed it a bitter misfortune, and perhaps even Mrs Wesley thought more than she said about it. The Quiver" for January.

Epps's Cocoa.—Gbateful AND Comfortix<j. By a. thorough knowledge of the natural laws which govern the operations of digestion and nutri- tion, and by a careful application of the fine pro- perties Of well-selected cocoa., Mr Epps has provided our breakfast tables with a delicately flavoured beverage which may save us manv heavv doctors,' bills. It is by the judicious use of such axtioieo of diet tnat a constitution may be gradually built up until streng enough to -resist every tendency to die- ease. Hundreds of subtle maladies are floating around us ready to attack wherever there is a weak- point. We may escape many a fatal shaft by keep- ing ourselves well fortified with pure blood a.nd a properly nourished frame."—Civil Service Gazette. Sold only in packets labelled—"James Epps & Co., Homoeopathic Chemists, London." Epps's medi- cines are sold in Wrexham by W. Rowland, street. 928 Valuable Discovkby FOR the Haik.—If our hair is turning grey or white, or faliinsc olf, use "The Mexican Hair Renewer." for it will positively restore in every case Grey or White hair to its original col our without leaviug the disagreeable smell of most ifce storers." It makes the hair charmingly beauutui, as well as promoting the growth of the hair on baid spots, where the glands are not decayed. Ask your Chemist for the" MEXICAN Haib Renewko," prepared by Henry C. GALLUP, 493, Oxford-street, London, and sold by Chemists and Perfumers every- where at 3s 6d per bottle. HoLLOWAfs OrnTKBtrr.—Bad legs, wounds, ulcers, and all descriptions of sores are cured by the proper and diligent use of these inestimable preparations. To at- tempt to cure bad legs by plastering the edges of the wound together is folly, for should the skin unite, a boggy, diseased condition remains underneath, to break out with tenfold fary in a few days. Tae only rational and permanent treatment, as indicated by nature, is tr reduce the inflammation in and about the wound, t soothe the neighbouring nerves, to cool the heated bloJ as it courses along its vessels, and to render its wat. ichorous discharge consistent and healthy. Hollow,)' Pills should likewise be taken to purify the bl00iUQd expel the noxious humour from the system. England TBBSUI F&\hce.—For generations Cboolate has been imported in large quantities into this JllJltry from France. We are glad to find tables tuned at last, and that Cadbury's, the makers of the wti knows I Cocoa Essence, have opened elegant pre raw* at 90, Faubourg, St. Honore, Pans. — Their Coc* Essence 1 being perfectly genuine is a beverage far beter suued te warm climates than the thick heavy con pounds of Cooss vitfe sofar ami staMfc §omenilj 88M.