THE DOCTOR'S CHRISTMAS BOX.

By Mrs. Gregg.

ELL do it then, Reuben ?" " Aye. If I tak' it in hand at a', I'll no neglect it.' " For three nights ?' " Aye, for three nights an' maybe more, an' ye're no con-

forget it to you, an 1 you keep , i e " and the man who had been ques •. j n g the other siiook hands warmly Is. was Elias Horston, grocer, leather jl and general dealer in the little town (Ki'llook, situated in. a thriving par t of Jk^ rj where Scotch people had settled i^-ely long ago. %m some of them, Reuben Armstrong iiimaa Elias talked to, had surely come, shown by his tall, large frame, long .Ltare* high cheek bone 3, and light, blue '\* deep set in his head. He might be P Vage .from forfcy t0 fifty- is sandy JT ff asjust grizzled with grey, and the :jr"g o ji his weather-beaten countenance ■Sofcare and thought. Bsub6ll was wnab the Scotch call "a ftxJ-living man," that is quiet and dis %t, no boaster, but apt to do what he Mh6wou as ecame a' man wno na<i Pj twenty years farm-bailiif on a great •state hard by. Blias Horston, short and Stout, with a B 0 pale face, 'wag ai prosperous man, Sheers go in small towns ; but this day •las in trouble, and his wife, a comely LiDjin sitting at the fire in their kitchen 6 this conversation took place, was.in jjjiible too. , WBen Reuben went away, Ehas turned teher, saying kindly: "jfowj Ruth, woman, won t that satisfy «»Give over now and be paycified,—it's a' or'thebest." ■ »J know, that, Lias, answered the #0B)8n through her sobs, " but ye maun let us greet a bit; I canna gie in jist yit." few hours before, ;i suffering little drildof theirs had been released from a life fbich must ever have been to it one of pain w d disability. , gis mother could not all at once take comfort from the fact that he was-gone ; it yastoo soon. . Tie little, boy had been sorely distorted to gome strange spinal contraction, differ ijt-jqsaid the doctors (it is nearly fifty yeas ago), to anything that had been seen efore., ; - ,' ; j i. : ; lAlong with this there was extroardinary ental development, and power of memory, nth ihoughtfuluess and reasoning ability L that, of maturity. Elias and Ruth had several daughters; poor little Ben was their only son, and the toy h& was fiye years old.he was taken..from lJ.ljis.pain. 1 «'lf only he had ever one happy day with sg," moaned his mother ; " if just once I seen him like pny ither child," and because J,e\?asliks no other child, arid because the doobow said so strange a malady as his had lotljeet known before, a fear, to her most hijrriblei possessed hi*? mother. VjJecently a wave of horror had passed over tie public mind from the deeds of Burke jad> hk:associates, and just as legends jijgerilongest in remote districts, so did fhe excitement caused by the revelations of (^period maintain itsterrorin such places iser it had died away in the great centres jf population. : ? |T)Bn where np such evil agencies were at fork as those .which, introducing a new jrois into our language, came to be remem letgfl as " Burking,'' the difficulties that fceset the practice of anatomy were some times met in a reprehensible manner, and led to wild and strange adventures.

Kjljoak..wasaot many miles from a large tmra>; where there existed a school of jiedicine, the county hospital, and a rather jimous physician, by name Doctor Torrens. '■ MrsHorston had several times taken her iiliog child to this doctor, and once had Jad lodgings in the town and remained feefor'weeke, that little Ben might have te.ad.viee. ■-.. ..; ' :

JJw.knew Pr Torrents.had been greatly interested by the extraordinary nature of ; the child's affection, and would probably IpM-efrijis death, which occurred suddenly udnot very long after he had last been consulted about him. '[ Inthis she was right, for on the very day of hitt death a 1 young man who was one of Pr Toyrtens' '.' ipedital apprentices, called tith'a"message of inquiry from him. This yputyg. man had relations Hying near liltftok with whom he occasionally stayed JWm Saturday until Monday, and he had ence before been seen on a similar errand. .JJear the jbown alluded to was a seaport, Istweei? which and Glasgow a large trade wafcarried on, and, whether rightly or not, inidea prevailed that the " snatchers," as tii&se who prowled about' churchyards for taMwful purposes were called, shipped over iper various disguises the, materials re |ttired by thdEdin burgh College of Surgeons , wr^rosecuting their researches. PJlgffßi pf even worse things prevailed imbng the people in country ais jwijS, ,and now the" winter was on, fey cared to: leave their homes after it <tas dark unless several were in company ; fefj|i)ie person alone could do little to save Mrnself or herself if a " snatcher" dressed in Roman's clothes stole- up , quietly behind) tf3 threw over the face of his victim the

I locating plaster that in a few second? j|ta him ; and then, sojwenfc the rumour, rears of the gang were near to bear him . .*|*jf in a sack, to the rendezvous, where, '#iled : up in a barrel, and labelled "flax Wed," he was passed on to Edinburgh. ftConsideritfg what. was known of doings aton to these, for which criminals had been WBdemncd, and what was believed to be done, by others not yet found Out, it was IwiHy strange that Ruth' Horston should toe become, possessed with the idea that I tar child's remains might not be allowed tores* in peace. , . ~ '^ey>vould do it; 'Lias," she oried ; : "wheti they'll smother the living to sell %ir poor frames to the doctors, don't ye ■ fok&t but they'd meddle the dead." I ilt was a customary thing at that time for I fe people to watch by the graves of their | mends for some nights after they were ! Mcd, and, in a poor family, where there •»8-n6 male' member to undertake this a subscription was often raised among ™eir neighbours to enable them to pay I «aaeone. «WaS to engage Reuben Armstrong to j^ch tjbeir child's grave that the Horstons ■■ MjUent for him that day. ■ ( 5,% had undertaken similar jobs several 'fflies since the panic of that winter set in, jjlf.ftlways he said " without anyone mis miH% him of them he had the care o'." w, 4t the same time Reuben did not like the *ork, and had several times made those who 'antjed him look out elsewhere for the aid ftefneeded'; but he would not refuse the Hprstoxis, who were old friend 3 and neigh »&K and able to pay well for the service % asked of him. ' , K-Beuben was a widower. He had two fighters, givls of sixteen and eighteen «e cottage they were at that time living W*U' in a" lonely place; near an osier Mktioh by the river side, and in times Pen the very air seemed to be full of ftjjhtfbl' rumours, these girls did not like ms kit alone at night, and they -.had Wtoost niade their father promise that he *°Jjld tot go out watching any more. ■"■l wtbld them now this tjme would be 1 and neither for gentle rior simple he g 6 again. ' ; ~ ,wttle Ben was to be buried in the old fSgjjtyaadL. .As this' name implied, there ;^ a new'church. It was in the main S'MKffiock. •' ' f ■'■■"■ "'■ '■: .' : \ tel»f;-|^''cjiurch had stood just .outside WMHi^Mß.yy^lb yfue, then-grey and covered. ' The line of the'aisle was wWjy tfe». frsfc. Inscribed; $m® :that Jeered the tomb's below. Under where w6 communion-table had stood, was a vault

that had belonged to a now extinct family, lneir name was Luton, and the last who had possessed it, when he was laid in the old vault, left behind him a very evil reputa iu' .To air advanced age he lived a debased and wicked life, and his death was in keeping with it. None but hirelings, and they of a very in terior class, were about him ; and when, at the last, some strange remorse seized upon the old man, and scenes of his past life rose up, and in a frenzy he cried for those to be taken away whom, if he saw, no one else did, ins servants left him to die alone. Mis wealth passed to distant relatives, and weird and unoanny stories hung about his name and about the vault in the old churchyard, where he was laid. Phis was one reason why the Horstons wished to secure Reuben Armstrong for a watch that must be kept not very far from old Luton's vault. ■

There were others who could be hired for the same work, but they could not be de pended on to do it; take the country round, and there was no other spot where men would be so apt to run away from for a trifle.

Heuben was confident in his own great physical strength, and fearless, as he said himself, ' of any evil thing appearing to him, for they canha' pass the bounds ap pointed to them for their habitation.' Reuben was not one to shuri his midnight round because it led him past Luton's vault.

11. THE SNATCHERS.

Just beyond a corner of the ruined walls where ivy, covering an old buttress, formed a shelter from the frosty wind, Reuben took up his quarters the night after Little Beri was buried.

Elias Horston came of an old stock who had lived in Killock since the Scotch settle ment of the place in King James1 time, and many generations of them lay beneath the grassy sod that was upturned that clay. The spot was full in view from Reuben's corner, nearly opposite, though at some little distance from, the low-browed arch which led into the Luton vault. Reuben's youngest daughter, Joan, had clung about him greatly when he went out that night, fretting at his going, and mak ing him repeat hit* promise that this should be the last time he would undertake such work. Corps of yeomanry existed in Ulster then, and Reuben belonged to one. Conse quently he possessed a specimen of the old flint musket, known by the familiar name of ' Brown Bess.' With a look of apprehen sion Joan had watched him cleaning and brightening up 'Brown Bess's' clumsy form.

} Put ye're big coat on ye, father,' she said, reaching down, from a peg it hung on, a long frieze garment, but he would not have it. He buckled round him a thick pea jacket.

' Say a man bos to run for it, Joan,' he said, 'he'll go best in this,' then tying over his ears a hareskin cap, and buttoning on his long brqwn leggings, he rose to go, but Joan detainedhim, flinging her arms round his neck and crying, 'Oh, father, dear, what gars ye tak sich work upon yoarsel ? If ony tiiing comes on ye what'U Ido 1 What'll / do?1

'Go to'ye*re bed anil sleep like a wise lassie,' said he, caressing her ; ' what scares ye this night more nor itl-.sr nights ?' Then kissing both his girls, and thinking how like Joan's ways were to herdead mother's, he shouldered his musket and passed out into the wintry night. A frosty fog tilled the air, wholly obscur ing the light that the m:on, now at the full, would otherwise have given. ' There's a sough in the air though,' thought-Reuben, as he plodded along the familiar way that led to the :olcl church, ' an' if abreeze would get up, there might be light yet.' The wind did begin to rise. Chill and raw it struck, as if into a man"s very heart. Reuben, to whom every foot of the ground was familiar, went round the old walls and the boundary of -the graveyard several times, and then seeking the friendly shelter of the buttress, he stood his loadeof musket down beside him, and took out his pipe and tinder-box tohave asmoke.

A little way across fcho graveyard, right opposite to where he stood, was,the spot where little Ben had that morning been laid to rest, and on a dire'et line with his posi tion, not ten paces off, was the low archway which led down into the Luton vault below.

The wind was getting strong, there was a rift in the fog, and through it the moon appeared large and full, hanging in the murky atmosphere that changed her sil very light to orange. Any relict frdmTthe darkness of the fog was welcome, and Reuben as be smoked gazed round intently on the objects near, as in the gradually increasing light they opened their familiar forms. ; Some of the graves near were bricked up a little way above the ground, one o>- two had tall head-stones, a group of old Scotch firs to the left were visible. • It's not so bad after all,' thought Reu ben, 'if it holds on this way there'll be food light 'till near morning.' Just then, across the ground white with hoarfrost, a slender shadow seemed to fall from bho archway of the vault. Reuben leaned forward, crushing out his pipe with one hand while the other reached towards the musket. Otherwise he did not stir. '■''•■' ''..;, .; ,' r '':' i ,' ,', Was it one of the long arms of'the ivy waved by the rising wind ? Would it show again ? Aye, surely it did,—coming out on all fours under the ivy and then standing straight up. . / , A figure thin as a skeleton, as black as ink, and apparently wholly unclothed. Now Reuben Armstrong had not come from £ long line of Puritanical forefathers without being familiar with the traditional notions as to the persDnal appearance of the great enemy of mankind. He had inherited an ancient copy of the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' in which woodcuts were plentifully used, and among them representations of Apol lyon were not- scarce, but never did Reuben think of beholding him, not in the flesh, for. he did not seem to have any, but with' his own bodily eyes. That he phould come out of old Lutoir s vault seemed natural enough, for that all such as old Luton had been, belonged to him, body and soul, Retiben could not doubt. Awe-stricken and breathless he watched him pace along to the Corner of the ruin that corresponded to that wherehe himsek stood, when 'suHdenlyhe turned off into the'grave vard, arid if there had been any doubt before astohis identity it was then dispelled ; clear in thcmoonlight unmistakably he had horns, and over the Whitened.ground there swished a horrid tail. More than that, lie was mak- ( iapl for the grave of little Ben. \2& oblivion of duty had corns over Reuben in the horror of the> • mo ment, but this brought, back his senses,, and stepping forward he placed 'Brown Bess''in a position to nre. tie did not know what effect musketry might take in such a case, but it was clearly right that he should try, and he advanced for the PUThat einsfcant J^ewas seized 'from behind, the musket was dashed away, his arms, were pinioned behind his back, and the suffocat- Ut plaster of . .the ' snatchers. was pressed closely over hie mouth. , _ Never, in the 50 years of Ins hfp,,had Reuben felt so near death. Flung^iown on the ground, his feet were tied together, and he was dragged away by. tteshoulders. He had just sense enough to be conscious that he -could breathe, his mouth only being roveted: Sufc what of. that ? tfhey were drajgini? him to the fatal sack, and w^h that-thought' Reuben became senseless, SoTand.to see a gentle face whether hers or her mother's he could not tell.

Reuben never knew how long he lay there. The first sensation he was conscious of was something connected -with his feet; they were being united, and there were hands doing something inside his coat • the ' snatchers' had found out that he was living, and were about to stab him to the heart. '

Some moments passed; the hands were gone, and he still lived. Then came a feeling that he was alone. Cautiously he turned from the way he had been laid with his face to the wall!'- The moon shone clearly, all was still, and he was nearly frozen. ' Slowly and with much difficulty, he got up, but by no effort could he release his hands, and that fearful plaster seemed to choke him. ' ' .. !

Slowly he made his way round to where he had been before. There lay his musket, but he could not lift it. Looking acro?s to the Horston's burying-place, he thought its aspect was surely changed. Hoarfrots had whitened the new turned sod, even as it had the grass beside ; now some black heap lay there., ;.

In Reuben's disabled state it was no easy matter to cross the! uneven surface of the old churchyard, and when. he reached the grave of little Ben, it was to Vfind that it had been rifled. On either side the scattered earths lay dark. The coffin, inside which his mother would let no hands lay him but her own, was : empty, and the little frame over whose strange contractions so many wise heads had been shaken in vain, was gone.

111. GETTING AWAY.

Below the osier plantation and the cot tage the Armstrongs lived in, but on the opposite side of the river, lay a small boat, moored by a rope to an old thorn tree. Amidst the hazy fog, by the uncertain moonlight that the trees admitted through which they made their way, three men were proceeding hastily yet warily. 'So far good,' said one of them, as reaching the boat he placed cautiously in it a leather bag, the removal of which from his shoulders seemed a relief, for it was heavy. ..

Taking the helm, he waited until the others \yere seated in the boat, and then drawing in the mooring rope, he bade them row hard.

The other two settled themselves to the oars, which were muffled.

The men spoke in whispers, ' Watch yourself,' said one of them to the helmsman,

1 the shore eddies are strong here.' 'Never fear, I know them all,'was the reply, and he steered for the centre of the stream. • ,

Thtsre was little talk among them as they pulled rapidly along. For some distance the river banks were closely planted ; then open fields appeared, and great stretches of pasture land lay under the white fog. V ' We're half way now,' said one of the men, when they had rowed nearly an hour. 'I wish we wero there,' said he at the helm, 'I'm nearly1 petrified.' On they went, and iv less, than two hours from the time they started, dr'ow in their oars by the side of a rough wooden quay, below which eel weirs crossed the river. On the quay stood a man, apparently watch ing for them. He held tho boat as they stepped out, 1 All right, sir ?' he asked of the helms man, wno was first on shore. ' All right, are you ready ?' ' Aye, aye, sir, come on, whore is ib ?' ' Lift it there,' said the other, and the man, stooping into the boat, lifted the heavy black bag that lay in the bottom, and, like people who knew where they were going, they all moved oil up a rough coun try road 'that led from tho little -pier, and in a few minutes stopped at a cottage door over which a sign-board announced that Mary Devine had • Entertainment for man and beast.' \ ," ; Round at the back of this unpretending hostelry stood an empty cart, at least of all but a quantity of newly-cut rushes. Among these the' black bag was placed. The rushes were packed' tightly round, it, and levelled over it, and then the man began to empty over .them otye creel after another full of eels. The supply seemed endless. ' •' ..

'You've had a good catch, Dan,' said one of the gentlemen, for such by their speech they seemed to be. ... . , r , ' l^ever got a bigger*haul in the samd time,' replied he, tumbling in another creel full, until the slippery eela had scarcely ropm 0 lie.. .Thea mote rushes, over them, and the. man .brought from a shed a horse ready harnessed, asked again to have his instructions repeated, andwas soon on his way along the road. The three young men turned into Mary Devine's, and sitting down round the turf fire blazing on her hearth, told her to get themsoniething hot; they were .nearly frozen, they said. . . . .; , ~ ;: ; The "old woman produced a bottle of whiskey and some sugar. They told her to make the punch herself, they could not relinquish the luxury of holding their hands over the clear peat embers., .■> ~: rj ' Yell like it sweet,' a!ie said, upsetting a quantity of gugar into a deep brown jug,? and pouring boiling vyater on it, Then, with a short smooth stick, she pounded and mixed, finally emptying in a fair proportion of whiskey, by which the, Excise had never profited. ' . ■. ■ ~, , ; , . , ,■ The young men drank the punch eagerly out of little delf bowls that the old woman took off the dresser, and ate oaten scones, which,she said she had made, thinking they micrht be wanting a bifc of bfeacl. ' : . They would willingly have stayed longer resting' themselves in the heat, but they found there was not more than time to reach' the town they were bound for,'before an hour at which they might be recognised. A horse and dog-cart were hidden away in' Mary Devine's cow-house, and after paying her liberally, they drove away. ' I wonder what they're' up to f> thought she, as she covered up in the ashes the embers that were to light themorriing ,fire;' Jno good, I'll be bound;-- —ech, may be now, it's no great harm nayther.' Nothing short of would have been' harm in her eyes, considering how well they paid her, but she would have liked to know what their errand was! 9 • • "That day, a man stood in the market place of the county town selling eels, i From the quantity in his, cart .they did not seem to be'scarce, and yet he asked a price that only scarcity could account for. • If I'm to pay that money I'll have, something better than eels,' said an angry hpusekeeper, turning away from the. cart.1 The day was wearing on, apd the load of eels was not very far qow.nj when a ypuug man, passing leisurely along, stopped, and looked into the cart, as if eels. were an jjn-; known curiosity. , The man began to ex plain to him how n?any pounds of the slip, pery daiijties went to a string, and intro duced among his information the words : — .' Wbp.tiyer's comin',, sir,-^-I can't stand here all day.' V i . . . ' Follow one who ,wul come to you wnen it's a bit darker,' 'said the other} 'don't be1 frightened, you're all right.' r \' ' '"','; ■■ It was growing dusk, when a lame old woman, hobbling with a, stick, came to buy eels ' She could not carry them, she said; would he bring his cart just'a little way fcb Where shei .lived ; it would be worth his while, as she wanted a quantity for salting- ' " ~ ~ i., ■. iil'a ,■■ ' More betoken, said the man. 'More betoken,' said she, "ye niver had a bigger haul in the same time than 'ere last night; for all'that, there's'a-'h'eajy o':Pushes • bjielher them,'' she; hobbled wish I-sfeen!!myself ;well otifc'b''• this' • business,' said the man, as he turnedQiis' horse's head to follow her. She led him through some of the poorer

streets near the market, tlett into one of more pretensions, and stopped at a respect able looking three-story house. 'I'll get ye a dish to put them on, 1 said the woman, ' bring the cart up tp the kerb here,' and she began apparently to sort among the eels as if to pick the best. Then she said in a low tone to the man :—•

• Quick Pat, give me the bag under my cloak here.'

The black bag was drawn out at the back of the cart, and the woman, sliding it under her cloak^ hobbled into tho house. . ! , ■

' Get rid of your load any way you can, and be off out pf the town,' the figure had said ; and Pat, who knew to whom he was talking, hurried off tp sell his eels whole sale to anyone he could find to take them ; and if he ended the day by giving them a dead bargain, and then drove his old horse home over the country road faster than was right, there was a reason for his doings, His late errand had. been a most unhal lowed one, and this was.Christmas Eve* when cattle in their stalls go to their knees, and spirits fill the ait*. .]

There was comfort in the handful of money that he clenched, and jn the prqmias that it would be doubled after a while if he held a olose mouth, but for all that he wished he was safe homo and in bed, with his head covered up. ,; •iUu\ ■•, ■I n r Meanwhile the door of the room into which, the blaqk bag .had. been carded, wag quickly locked on the inside, and the lame old woman was taking off her clothes.

Beneath them appeared the masculine habiliments, or some of them, of Charley Ferguson, familiarly knpwn as Snipe. ' What's to be doric with this get-up ?' said he to a young'man who was laughing heartily if not 'loudly, as he helped him out of his petticoats, and then seizing the old cloakj tied up in it the sttjff gown, the blue checker apron, the poke bonnet, and other articles that during the last few days had been carefully collected at various old clothes shops. As he did so, a low, peculiar knock came to the door. Snipe sprang forward, and cautiously opening it a little way a tall young man edged his way in, and as the door was hurriedly locked behind him ex claimed—

' Where is it ? We're watched—l don't know for certain; but I'm afraid they're on our track.'

On a chair, with a coat thrown over it, lay the bag, and as Snipe pointed to jt, the other, stepping quickly, across the room, lifted the coat and looked,.

'There's an awful rout in Kiliooli;,' co> tinued he; covering it up "again ; ' Magis trates' meetings and rewards offered. You couldn't have got a mouse into the Hospital to-day without showing it.". ' Does the doctor know ?" "asked Mc- Clung, the thjrd of the conspirators with Snipe, and the last comer, whose name wag Burroughs. '' I can't say what he knows, or rather, guesses; but when ho was going to the Hospital-to-day, he told me there were search-warrants out about something, and the laboratory had better be kept in order. I took that for a hint to put nothing there. Look now," he continued, 'I've notimo to explain, but I have reason to think this house will be searched, and the sooner all's clear, the better. Fv«* a'plan—-we dari'b stick at trifles, for there's not an hour to lose. Do you. two"gee on your evening clothes as fast' as you can—call a covered car and bring the bag with you to the class-room door. Leave the rest to me, I'll bo watching for you—can't* stay another minute, if they bavo trucked me here all'slost;' and having been let out as cautiously ks he had been let in, Burroughs disappeared. Doctor Torrenß, the famous physician in the county town, lived in the end house oi a terrace. A long out-shot, or rfcturn to his hduse, contained his,class,-, room., private surgery, and laboratory, This part of the building faced'to a road that ran. at a right angle to the front of the terrace, and con tained a private door used by those whose business led them there/ ' '"'

The doctor generally had one or two house pupils as well as out-door ap prentices. , ~ Among these Utter were McClung and

Snipe. ' Snipe ib was who had figured as Apollyon in the scene of the previous J^ight. His long thin face, high' npae, and wonderfully slighbform had gainetj this name for him, and had also been supposed to fit him for the part he bo successfully assumed at the raid in the old churchyard of Killook. The dark elastic Jerseys of the present day did not exi9t;then,:or, he might have been pre pared for his part with iflpr^ ease than by the suit of black flannel,' the fife of which was ensured by its being sewn on. The hbi'ns were riot hard to manage, but at any time thfc tail' roust,;hMe. boon a ■difficulty, all the? greater as ib. w^s re* quired to swish. "!!, ; / Snipe's part had been to draw the atten tion of, Reuben Armstrong:so entirely to himself that he could readily bo over powered from behind ;' but had Reuben had time to ; flre, hfe m}ghtr too sVrely have ascertained the' nature of his enemy, for his old musket carried a powQrfu} charge- > Burroughs, who. was » great strong-; fellow above six feet high, pulled Reuben down only just in time to prevent this ; knd when between pinioning and plaster iing he andMcCUunS had 'hjm safe, they laid him up against the old church wall' until their woirk was done arid they set his feet free.' ! " ' ' . ' ■' '.''' \ ~

t \l'if. UNIJBR TJBS VALANCE.

Doctqr TofcftKNß had*no childifen Of his own,, but if is hpus.e had npt wanted for young life' in {&."' Harry "Burroughs,, his ;orphan nephew, i had soniethuig Of a son's pls.ee with him, and ft niece of his wife's had lived with them from*childtioodi" This young lady was soon about to be married", and now on Christmas Eve a party was to be given by Mrs Torrens in honour of the approaching event.. .V , t , ,; - Hours,were earlier fifty yeara ago than they are now, but th\e company had not begun to arrive at Doctor Tbrrens's house, when,a covered car stopped at tho side door leading into the doctor's'.class-rodm. - Burroughs opened it, and let in Snipe arid' McClung, both in e'venirig.'dress ; arid the latter Carrying a larg^e gre,atti6at over his arm. ' . . ' .'■'.'' There was nothing strange or likely to cause any remark in their arriving earlier than the general company, as from being tHe doctor's pupil?* they Were intyriate in the house. . '_ "' , ',"'. '".'/ The"class room was prepared for dancing, but not yet lighted up. ' ; ti Burroughs, rather officiously offering to relieve McClung of his greatcpafo led thejn through the' hall and upstairs into a back drawing-room, between. which and a large room iri front were foldirig!-dobrs lying open. Both rooms werelightod up, but were with out occupants. It wanted ten minutes yet to the time Mrs Torrens had named in her invita tions. Jn a <?orner of the smaller drawing-room there stood behind the fold.iiig-doorsabroad low1 sofa covered with chintz, of which, in accordance with the upholstery of the time, a valance reached down to the ground. Burroughs glanced hastily around to make sure they were, alone, and then to the horror of his companions 'he wrapped; £he great coat tightly round' the bulky black bag whiph had' been concealed beneath it, and tnrtJst all togetlibf under the sofa: ~ "'' . The next minute t)iere entered the rporii Mts Toi'rens and her niece1 in full dress, Doctor Torrens following thpm with Mr Coalstbn. i Miss * Wftrd^ fianc^. Carriages began soon.to arrive; and'the • rpoms filled quickly. : :' ' '■•/' ' ''!... ■']■ „ t ,' f\ ',' I ( What ihat evening was tq'thpse in the seci'e^ of the chin ix covered" sofa has never 7 beenfuJilY.told/ , ;: " -"f' 1" !i3,, :: .\- Standing-ai ib didin a rkther secktd'ed position, it seemed so suitable for the slightly confidential murmuring chatter

that young couples tired with dancing find so restful, and all unconscious of a proxi mity that night within a few inches of poor little Ben's distorted frame, more bent and doubled-up than ever, within the cramping limits of the bag. Harry Burroughs kept what guard he could over the sofa. ; One awful idea filled his mind more than anything that magisterial wisdom was likely to devise—his Aunt'a favourite spaniel, Dash. He had been shut up for the present occasion in one of the upper rooms, and this Harry knew ; but suppose, anyone went into that room—the housemaid for instance— and never thought about Dash, how long would it be until he was down among them all, hunting about for his mistress; and that any strange and unusual bundle under the sofa could escape the pene tration of his npse couW scarcely be Hbjped for.

' Hours never seemed so long, but when shortly before supper, Doctor Torrens, motioning his nephew aside, told him there were police down-stairs with a search warrant concerning some grave-yard busi ness—Burroughs thought that let Dash be where he might, the game was up. ; The professional calmness of Doctor Tor rens had not, however, deserted him. I Accustomed to meet with, placidity all symptoms of danger in other people, he was not the man to quail when danger, though of another kind, entered his own house. , Ho had a shrewd suspicion that what they were looking for was some where about!. He had known some strange things done in the pursuit of anatomical knowledge, notwitihtitandLne the pains and penalties that were risked thereby, and he knew, and forebore to ask why, his nephew Harry had been out ail the previous night. The men might well have been deceived by the placidity with which he told them to look' wherever they pleased, and even had tney been detectives trained in ; these days of dynamite ther thought of prosecuting their inquiries in a drawing-room full of company might never have occurred to. them. ■ .•:•■'■'

Such an .idea -was. a step beyond any they had fcfrmecl^ and they missed the pbjecb of their search while within a step of where it lay. The .last of the guests had left, and the house-party wero in the supper-room, when Harry Burroughs whispered to his uncle that he wanted him for a minute up stairs.

Doctor Torren«, looking, a littls un easy, followed him into the back drawing room. Hurry closed all the dooi-3, stooped down beside the sofa, and drew out the black bag. that?1 said the doctor, in a furious, breathless way. ' A Christmas box, sir, for you.' ' It's not,—-it's not,' gasped the doctor t laying hold of the back of a chair, and for once losing'the bland professional serenity for which he was famous.

'Oh yes, but it is though ;—we've been nearly run down, but I thought they wouldn't look for it up here.' Doctor Torrens, overpowered by the consciousness of the risk, and the audacity that had met it, sat down and dried his face. ■ . . . •, , j I • Where shall I put it now, sir t asked hisnephe'w. is - : ... " • Thadoctor took the key of the laboratory from his pocket, and gave it to him. •. _ , f.They've been in there once,' he said, land they'll not search it a second ,'time, ■ but don't stir until everyone is in bed.' ; All Christmas day the black bag .lay in the laboratory. ■ Early next morning Doctor Torrens paid his customary daily visit to the hospital. His nephew accompanied him in his chaise, and while the* doctor went through the wards, Harry, who was nearly full, Hedged as a surgeon, inspected as usual on bis be half spine of* the other departments, and spent an unconsciously long time where anatomy was practically illustrated. Par cels being sometimes brought there by the attendantdoctor, there was nothing strange jn having one carried in from the chaise that was waiting in the court hard by. Some time afterward there appeared in a medical journal an account of a singular 6aso of spinal contraction, and several remarkable facts were stated, which may have helped forward the enlightened treat ment of such ailments. •

, ; ;< becbbn's return. .

ipBUBEN Armstrong, with his hands tied behind him, and that fearful plaster on his face, when he staggered fromthe old church yard, made his way towards his own home, and'early on the morning of Christmas day his daughtei'S were awakened by a knocking at their cottage' door; 1 Don't stir; Margy,' cried Joan, 'don't stir!' ' ' ; "" - ' ' / ' It's best 'till see at wha's knocking1 said Morgy, rising, and notwithstanding Joan's entreaties, she opened the little case ment near the cave, and called out to know who was there. '

There was no answer. •

Through the foggy air the faint light of the now descending moon just enabled her to make out that there was'a figure below, and from'the height she 'thought it was that of a man. ! He seemed to look up, and then'knocked again. 1 ' What's your errand ?'■ she cried. ■ ? I'll no open no doors till ye tell me,' and then, finding there: wjas' -ho answer, she closed casement,', and.'bade Joan, "/'No be geared, whether he means good or ill he pariiia' get.in,' ... . There was more knocking, jaiid until the daylight canjo, they heard treajd. still going about" the place, for the unfortunate Eeuben, unable either to speak or to give the signal that.his daughters wer«3 familiar with,.could do nothing to resist the severe cold but walk about.

; Iti much alarm the girls got,up and dressed themselves. .

}Vhafc could anyone mean by walking about their doer that way in the dark ? . ' When the first grey light of the returning day made qbjects visible, Margy looked out again, and called %o the njan to know what jie wanted.? ' ;' ■' :) ~',■ ',!;"," He turned towards the window, and looked up. ' \Vith one wild cry, Margy sprang past her sister, and down the ladder that led to the loft they slept in, and rapidly unbarring the door, her father, speechless, handcuffed, and half choked, staggered in. How the girls cubthetyingsoffhis hands, and released his , unhappy mouth from the ' dreadful plaster : how they lit a great fire, and rub bed and, chafed m§ half-frozen limbs, and as they did it, all cried' with pity for the state he was in; arid' how Marery rushed away arid told, the Horstons that the snatchers and the evil one together had rifled little Ben's grave. To tell it all would require a longer story than this'! 'That , these two pavfciea should colribind Was only in accordance with all that was known of them, but after describing the matter that first day to ' his daughter iind the Horstons, being1 all who had any 'right to ask about it, Reuben became: silent on the subject. ' tJiicariny things were aye best let sleep,'he said, ana he 'would like to for get'tnat the de'il had been sac near hitn.' In his waistcoat pocket, he found three sovereigns, arid remembering the moment when he lay breathless beneath the mysterious hands, and thought they meant to kill him, he would not use the money.

He could believe anything of Appollydn after seeing him, and th^e gold might have' been his! f' ■

Margy laid it by. There caple a time when she took iinrAi't, looked lovingly at it, and being Sure it #as this kingdom's lawful coin; relieved with: ifc a! time of family1 pinch andstraightflesg.' ." -- |»ViVS«SO*" * li-:- The real secret was well kept. The chief actors in it had but one accom

plice—the man who drove the cart, and he was pretty safe, being as liable to prosecu tion as the others.

As for Dr Torrens, he never was so glad to get hold of anything as of little Ben's crooked frame, that is, of anythingsurgical; and it is to be hoped that his added wisdom repaid the anxiety it cost him. \ One thing is certain, that the highest medical journal then published received communications from him regarding spinal curvature that may have helped torestablish and develop the more enlightened and far less severe treatment of this complaint which is now adopted.

STORY FOR BOYS.

AH Australian Christmas,

BY J. S. BORLASE.

I don't think I should have been tempted to spend laat OhrlstmaS'day with old Matthew Fallon, the German vigneron, had not the attractions of a promised roast goose been supplemented by L those of his little duck of a daughter Gretchen, who chanced to be eighteen on that very day, and whom I hoped to make my wife before 1884 was ended.

Thank heaven she. is my wife, but though I'm about to write a 'tale of our courting days, I would not for worlds have her read it, lest thehorrors which I am-going, to re late should bring back to her mind co vivid a recollection of the scenes themselves that the reason,,which aj> the time they nearly robbed her of, should again be en dangered, and by a mere memory. •■ Behold me then on a burning hot Christ mas-day, leaving my littio weatherboard hut where the thermometer hanging under the shade of the deep verandah marked 99, and clad only in a coloured shirt and trousers (with a clean collar and freely flowing necktie of course), and a broad brimmed, low-crowned cabbage tree hat that had cost me a couple of guineas in the little township of Wodbnga a week previously, mount a horse' that I ha.d'paid half-a-crown for on the same occsision— though had he been properly broken' in and groomed he would have fetched fifty pounds at any fair or bazaar in England —and giving a rifle-like crack with my whip, which was two feet long in the handle and fifteen at least in the thong, head him straight for the ultramarine and; violet-hued' forest ranges, whose lowest spurs were at least a dozen' miles away, though the Australian atmosphere maae them lo*ok not half the distance, arid which enabled mo to see even the upourling wreaths of smoke from the homestead wherein I was to be so hospitably enter tained.

Heavens, how still the air was. Such an atmosphere in Italy or Greece would'most probably have heralded an'earthquakeybut in Australia there are happily no earth quakes, either physical or political. Yet still there was something both enervating and depressing in the sharp crackling of the forest leaves in the fierce heat, in the furnace like glow of the heavens; the1 quivering of the atmosphere, and the silence of both bird and insect life. ' i::

When a man happens to be in love, how ever, and furthermore journeying in the direction of a good "dinner, it is his nature to set down as trifles what under different cir cumstances he might regard as serious dis agreeables, and so I scoured the undulat ing, tree-dotted plains at a gallop (plains'of brown grass that Jiad been changed into hay even whilst it grew, and trees whose sage green, vertical foliage afforded no shade), and the close of the hour saw me ascending the ranges towards the convolvuli-covered cot of my beloved at a more sedate pace, for the rising ground had taken all the spirit out of my grass-fed gag, and, considering the heat, little wonder.

Ten minutes later, . however, he was stabled in a little. outhouse, and I myself was seated in the verandah with my darling by my side, and a great dish of delicious muscatel grapes and a long-necked bottle of cawarra wine standing on the table in front of me, for in the'hot summer weather Australians may be said to liVe in their broad, wooden-floored verandahs which are formed by a continuation of the shingled roof to an extent of three and sometimes four yards, and supported by a Render pilaster here and there. How delicious those grapes were, and how cool and refreshing the wine," but Of course I had to go and see my presumptive' father-in-law also, whom I found in the little detached kitchen attending to the cookingj whicfr/your true German considers to be a man's work, that is if it; is to be properly performed. Old Matthew'was evidently in his element. The goose was.already set down to roast in front or an' fenormous fire composed of two foot long shea oak logs, 'in company with some wild ducks, and the vigneron was now busy in the manufacture of a gigantic peach pi 6. • , <r ; It was very evident, despite the friendli ness of his greeting, that he didn't want us, there, and as nothing more mortal thatf a Salamander or a fiery dragon could have enjoyed his company amidst such surround ing.l?, I was very glad when I was almost driven forth, and so had a good excuse for returning to the verandah. ■ ;■' "! '': lAs Gretchen, in anticipation of-my coming, had risen at an early hour ai^d got through all her work, even to. the laying of the- dinner table and the adornment of the Christmas tree (for old Matthew would not for untold riches have omitted a single custom of the "Fatherland^' on such an anniversary), she had nothing to do but; kit and tal£ with me, so that aj» hoiur.pr mbre passed, delightfully away, and a second might have followed it in like manner but for the sudden.apparition- of a\>diiMjy, dis sipated looking fellow, with a blanket, and "a bLack*ened tiu billy strapped to Ms back, a heavy, untrimmed staff in his h^nd, a stump of a pipe gripped between his, yellow fangs, and a stubbly beard of a fortnight's growth, who suddenly rounding the angle of the verandah brought himself to a halt in front of us with the cool remark:^—'

"I sepm to nose a good dinner,' mate. Roast goose ain't it? I guess you won't say no to a tired and weary overlander taking a bit and a sup with you on an occasion like the present ? Am I welcome ? Yes or no!" , : ,: . ..■

"Tni riot the boss here, my friend, but as there's a bush inn only three miles along the road, I'd advise you to go on till you get to it, and I don't mind standing half a crown towards your dinner there'ii you're short of funds." I made. answer, , for I coiild see with half an.eye that the dirty bushman would be no acquisition to our little family party, for he stank, of .bad rum already, and there was a wild loolt' in bis eyes and a jerky twitching about his lingers and mouth which hinted plainly that he " was within a measurable dis tance " of an attack of delirium tremeiis, or what is known* in .Australia by the more forcible name of The Horrors !l

My offer, however, was received with a contemptuous "You're a pretty sort of cove, you are; a new chum who's got to learn what Australian hospitality means, that's very plain. Who in this free .country would think of turning a houseless 'stranger, from his door on a Qhristmas-Hay of all days in the year ? No, I'don't suppose you are the boss, and what's more you don't deserve ever to be one neithsr, wherefore I aren't going to take no from your lips." "If I'm not the master here I: can soon take you to him, If he asks you to stay all well and good, and if tfie other \vay I can then show, you the g^to" ? rejoined, and springing to my feet I took turn by the'arm aiid led him towards the kitchen.' ~ '•'.,

But when we got there old Matthew Fallon was no more struck with his personal appearance than I had been, and after

looking him straight up and down, mad? answer to his request with a curt ;—<■. " We don't want a stranger at oar dinner table. If you'll take a draught of ale or wine and a plate of bread and meat and then go your way, you're heartily welcome, and if you don't choose to do tha,t you can go without." - ■' ■ re' ■•'■l Instead of accepting the kindly offer, and my again proffered half-a-crown,. the fellow began to curse and swear in the most frightful manner, finishing up by throwing down his hat and challenging me tp fight, ' ..<:> V ' « : Being the possessor of a hot temper, 1 knocked him down at this, and then lifting him on to his feet again and fixing his old weather-beaten billycock hat tight down on his head, I conducted him to the garden gate, with all his bounce apparently^ taken out of him, and gently pushing him there through, closed it in his rear and then. said: — ' t* If half-a-crown's of any service to you, mate, you are still heartily welcome to it, and the bush inn I told you of is away yonder," and I pointed in the direction in which the shanty was situated. But the man timing round on me gave me a look that I shall never forget to my dying day, and hissed through-his clinched teeth : • ' ' ■ ,

"Tothe fiend with'your dirty half-crown a,nd with you too. I'm going to ; travel irv the teeth of'the wind, lam, Mark that, ln; the teeth of the wind I pay, and if before lpng, I don't sand you skidderipg ten times as fast in a contrary direction my names not Jim Galdwin. The goose is cooking, but none of you will set teeth in it thta Christmas day. No, by heaven that you never shall "—and shaking his fist at me the fellow turned round and shuffled off as fast as he was able. ' * Of course, I 'laughed at. his threat, re garding it a3 tall talk, and' nothing more. Besides, I didn't understand his meaning, nor did I consider it to be worth guessing at either. Instead of doing bo, I retraced my way to the house, erlad to escape from the scorching hob wind that had just begun to blow, and 'neath whose« influence the green vine leaves had already commenced to curl up at the edges, and the purple bunches of grapes to shrivel and wither. One hour later, we were all three seated around the festive board, poor old Matthew Fallon with.a great deal of his usual con tented and happy look faded out of his rubicund visage owing to the certain • de» strdction of his grape crop, if the hot wind, '. which was by thisjtime roaring as if belched foithirpm a thou&and fiery furnaces, cpn; tinned for any length of time longer, • He put as good a face upon the matter as he could, however, and grace- having been said be was. just on the, point ok,commenc ing to carve the goose when Gfetchen sud denly exclaimed:—-' ''.There's something more than a hot wind, raging, .took at the colour of' the * sty t' Hark to those crackling sounds. There's a bush fixe somewhere." . Her free suddenly paled ? as well it might with such a wind Slowing, and the primeval forest of highly cotßbustible gum and tur peritine'trees extending right (lowa to their little clearing. / ' '''"'''.'■..■,'.' Her aspect even more than 'her words caused me, to look around ;in turn, -arid directly I tieheld the y. jaect of the sky and a ilbf of eagle hawks circling around and around in the air, I kneW "why *Aey. had -left" their nests, an(J guessed at the deadly peril that was'swooping down upon ourselves.-: At the same instant I bit upon the ■solu tion of what had before been tb-nie a riddle* thes parting threat of the 'vindictive invagS man Jim Baldwin, " I'm £-oing to travel in the teeth of the wind, and the goose that's cooking none of you will' ever set teeth in."' ' ' :'. '' '; ': "' -1 '■ Full of the most horrible surmises,; 11 dashed out on to th.^ verandah, buta, single I glance was sufficient, and I sprang back into the room again exclaiming— "We must up and away, that infernal scoundrel has set fire to the bush and the hot wind is driving the1 conflagration down the ranges directly towards us at a«6peed of at least twelve miles an hour.'* 7 : • : w'

Gretchen shrieked with ■ terror-, arid Matthew Fallon, dropped the cafving- knife and fork, exclaiming—-■' •■ "I'm a ruined man1} |,sh&U be burnt out of house'and honje.".---1 :' orft'l'iiq wo

" This is no time' tso think 4of i ruin ,S*rhien Ufe'itself is it stake," I rejoined, ban, and saddle your grey mare. I oafi take'up Oretcheri in front of me.' Each nag will then bear about equal weight. Go 1 11 Why< do you stand gtill?"r; v r, &&B6 '' Because I've lent the mare to a friend and he hasn't returned her yet.'!; ■ ::sv His answer unnerved me,fo* it told me that one of oiir liVes was !spedj and even should I yield up tp him i and ;his danghter < my horse; the grass fed ani(aal'Coal4 neyer> bear sueh f a double burden, old Matthew weighing"sixteen;Btone at thieleajrt.; r • •;,';.; He must hay read my reflections £|» nay eyfes for hfi exclaimedearnestlyi';?f.Save my daughter. Hav^ no - thi>t(ght *of mci My! dead wife is baried in theJgarden andi I've ny great wish to leave h#r."r;l' tosajtis ba< ' There was no time to stahd disputing the. rtiatter. I made fc Vugh ifor the stable, Gretchen'a glirieking protestations ringing ih; my: ears the while] that nothing should w duce"her to leave her lather. /:-'::■>; ■- ',?;>

j "How shall I be able to tear her away from him?" I' ■Yvrondered as I horjjied, alorig, but in less than three minutes 1 had saddled my horse and brought him round to the front, where, slipping -the,drains around a verandah pilaster, I again leapt into the room where I had left, father and child! '■'■'■"■" s ' '•<■<■■ "' '■•■■'■ ■:■•■"■ i ■■■■ ..'.■.-■=■: ,i\ ihvr

They were still there and she seemed to be yet entreating him to escape in her stead, but as I neared them the Old man re leased himself from her tenacious clutch by; force, and sending her reeling inio nay ai*aJSi exclaimed excitedly, "Remember,;! hold, you answerable both to God and to; myself for her safety." i! \.: ; i., m ■•:•;■;

He then plucked a pistol but of his ooa> pocket;, thrust.the muzzle. "between bis teeth and tip 'against the roof of Me mouth, and pUled: the trigger before I wasi evfeq, certain that he grasped anything in "his hand.M '"''."iV'-i "»:'■ t.rbl.l j.;.;; s r); : ;,.•'■, -r <-,:■

An instant, and hisblood anel' 'brains were '^pattered all over the places and the questioa wart thua> definitely solved ias ,tp whom should be saved and whom left be hind. '"*:■ --■.■■'■'■ s .fiijßiVi iokv.\ •.: a Had not the terrible spectacle caused poor Gretcben to swoon, it is extremsly doubtful whether I should have been able to. tear ,h^r away, even then from her father.- As it was; howevei!, I whipped herup as I -mights have done; a sheaf of wheat, and carried her out through the open door^window, threw hor, across; my horse just as though she had been one, and you may ibe sure that thfl next instant I was .up on the saddle behind her with no thought in my head except aa to how we were!to escape. • .'. ■■;. »i I >e

It was a (Question By no, means easy to solve,1 for the conflagration-was now within a mile of iis, and tearing dowii the ranges; at a speed of a dozen miles an hour 'at tKe: very least, arid accompanied by a roar compared with whiih that of Niagara would have been a mere whisper."'' True, the way to myi homestead stiU.lay open, and I could see i£ nestlinganiidjst its patches of Indian corn as I trotjtfjd my hor§e down the hill side, but I dare, pot attempt tQ .cross the sea of waving, yeilo\p gicass/that stretched between, for if t)ie sparks, that already dropped prourid us.^veretp ignite that the, flames would scour the plain at A, speed tfiajb neiiiher racehorse nor kfjn.ga.roo, hound could, hold its, own,,against,for a siriglemile, ; ,, :^jr'< '■, ~ \.,',,),,'. r "' It was' kaddening, ;j£ t^ink tb^t the. wretch who had done this bl&pjkjieed could pursue .rhisr^iitew^ hipfpcp, foilig ipiiifl as l^isiirqly as hecKoge. fpr3he flanaes of his creating \yoi^ld ppt aav/inW hal^ a mile an Hotfrtn that dirSctibn, whilst we had; to, tear alonff for dear life with "deaiJn oh" ifiV; white horse racing almost neck and neck with us. i

Bat it was no gpod giving jay onabroken.bottle has beenknown to«re^e a conflagration which has hla°k*™a *™ , destroyed a track of country as large as an • English county. < - ' ~ . Once olear of the stony ground, the tiot was changed to a gallop, and none too soon, for the fire had been gaining on us - LoSg bSraholocanstof'^-"^ th.S spot where the dead vigneron s whether boßtl house had stood, ;but there w^a time for a second glance, for sparks jere already falling around us in a blind ng shower, ana the aromatic odour of burning gum and peppermint leaves was overpowering^ Luckily there was little smoke, or we should have been juffocated outright. . l The conflagration must by this time have been fully twelve miles wide, and no one can imagine the grandeur or the ll|ffiP r of • tflo speotaole. • ■ - ,• :™: 1 . ; ; It was as though countless millions ot ( birds with flame-colqured plumage were wheeling and fluttering around vast polumns of red-hot iron, each a hundred, a hundrea and fifty, prtwp hundred feet 10 height j t whilstinall directions these Titanic colunins Were reeling and crashing to earth with a souiid like thunder, sending up fountains and cataracts of sparks to an immense height inthe dall red sky which seeded to , glow like a furnace. ' Dead or dying birds now dropped arpuncl us, flying foxes flapped past ok their great leathery pinions, kangaroos came leaping down the ranges clearing eighteen _feet oj^ ground at each onward bound, and moje thanfonce I heard the jocund peal of the laughing jackags who, plir foolish bird, : possessed not sense enough' to perceive th& danger which even the snakes were ea-v deavpuring to escape frpm. , ]. , . X was .'so conf us.^d by the, noise and thfl, heat aiid the uncertainty as to whether toy j darling Gretcben was only in a swoon1 or ; actually dead, that T knew not'in whajb f direction I was riding. But ere long hope itself died within me, ' for my horse commenced to reel beneath - its double burden, bipod, began to tingle'jga whits1 ipam spunjeii.and the relefttlila flames were evidently catchiag us up fast. I Ail seemed red , around—the fare waa f drawipg ahead on botJ^ sides, it wa^ closing' in; around ps- I |eit the sk^in peeling off my face and hands. > ~; , / ''.'.■!.' i But all at once there was, a snorfc,: s*,'' plunge, and water spurted up and around rpe, I heatd my brave steed's fierce shriek ot jdy;:m&'l echoed it stsl perceived we were breasting a broad stream, and the conviq-, -tion flashed home -tp' me that it was the IVlurrumbidgee river and. we were sayed. ~ b We were saved, |or we, gained, the oppo site bank in safety, arid great" was rpytjoy^./ on reaching hpme by a circuitous route1, to discover that the fire had not approached within three miles of my little homestead, a. ■ ■ i -Ib'wasnow Gretchen's home also. She!

recovered her reason there, but even ye.6.? she can never Ippk .towards the far aw:ay, Slackened ranges without a; shudder, and a' * «Jgh, so as soon as I can I mean to changer my farm for one in a different district.

POETRY.

TH|? TWO«4JTTLiJ STOCKINGS,

A CfIRISTMAS STQBy. Tw> little stockings hufig side by side. Close to the lireplade, broad and wide, ! I*l Two ?" said Saiafc Isiok, as down he;'came, I Loaded with, toys and many a game, r" tio { Hq !" said^ he with a laugh of fun I'« I'll hate iio cheating; ! my prettyone,.1 I ki'qpw'wbp dwells in thte house, my d»3ar,; There's pHjy qnie little girl lives here." Sphe crejit uprose to the chimuey-place,' Au<l imeasured. a sock with a' sober face, jusfi tfhen a' wee little' note felt out, - fluttered low, like a bird,1 about;: J k%« ■ « AM-l whats'^ .^huV'h sjMste insurprise, As he pushed his specs up close to his eye, ( And read. r frh^. address, in a child's rough"' ,{■ plan.;";" >-'■',! '"■' '■■• ■■-' ■'".■.-. 'V^1. ■„..-- '■■ ■ *♦ Deac Saint Nicholasi" so it began, 'V : f The other stocking you see on the wall I have hung for a child, named Clara Hall, SK'^'sapoor little girl, but very good, . I - So I thought perhapsi you.: kindly wofflld V, yillmp her'stocking,: too, to-nignt, r., - ' Aiid^h«lp to'naakey6er Ghridtmas bright, -.; ;, |f you've not enough for; bothostPQliingftj, I there ■:<,:-"";;- '■; .---i ■■■■~, .. ; :'. >, Please put all in Clara's.. I shallnbc.cjax^" Saint Nicholas brushed a» tear from hisey^, And, v God blesjyou darling/ 1 he said with asigh. --~., . Thenr«oMyiia blew, through tie chimney I .high, *»i: ■•'■■>. ~-■■>:■ n\ :j* ..;■?■' A::nfl6elikev4>bird's,'4s: it soars on high, r ii When 'down- e^me- two; of the funniest - j ';> toiprtials ■>- '!■•' twi ■■:■ (•<.:.•. '•>:.. r.^asssrl That dyer wasfeeen-thisflide fearth's portals, ' • Hurry up !' rsaid- Sainb' Nick^'' • and nicely 1: prepare^. ' r :>'\i~<(>& C'ttoi bac ■■■■^■ < \.-... -?.■:' a:-. ■. All tne:little girls'*wants • where moneyiis -1 -'•'ra*e."'" • - -'•'• - "Vi'^-' '" f.ii 'A »smm Then, -'bh,'what a^cene there was in: that ' ' >iroom! *'•■•■'£ "•'■■*■ :-i"-q ■■''■:■:■:: ';., h««i[.'-. Away went the elves, but .dawmfrbiij tb® glopm ;,i- iTy .;.:'• ~,.-■ , tl<l .~• Of the sooty old chimney comes .tumbling ; low A_child/s whole wardrobe, from^head to toe. How Santa Claus laughed, as he gathered ""'th'em'in:.-'' :~ ■'"■■ i ;1 * ■ -'"■'■ v i<i ' trotis-s^ .■,..'.:.;■ ■ And ftetened each one to the sock with a !■-. ..pin! I '!.■■'■.: 'Wii.---'ii .•'.■■:■:■■'.-"'.,..;;;.: ~:■■■-■'.;■■•■ p Bight to the toe he hnng a blue^ress. " She'll think it came from the sky^il. * !■■ guess.'-' ■ ■ ' '- - ->i Said Saint Nicholas, smoothing the folds I of blue, V .'.'.; ■ :', .' ' "■.' ''. ':v ', - ' >'.' And tying ;bhe the hood to:the stocking, too. When all the* wiEuta clothes were fastened ; ' on, "■"'"" ':'.. jj And both littl'? socks were filled and done. Then Santo, \'laus tiicked a toy here and there, Aiid htjrrieid a^vfty to the frosty air, • Saying v God pity the'"poor, and Wess the; dear ptiild .'•" V, TiVhg pities, top, on this night" so ; ' WJltJi''* * ;/"' ■ ''-■■■ • ■".■ The wind caught the'words and bore them on hjgh ' '. Till they died away in the midfiightsky. 0 While Saint Jficho as flew through the icy ' ail> ' A ' °'; priiiging '^peace and goodwill^Uith him' ;.,, ; e.y^yyi^|er§, E ., ■ .■, ; ■: ■■;:. - ; f _ ■ Salrah Keaej^ks Hdnt

ZEALANDIA'S NEW YEAR.

No wintry §166ni! and skdii^li b'Oppress our island J^qmei '. ' Pright sunbeams gild thewatersj , ,4nd light the, feaitheryi foam ; . ,\ The songsters and,the blossonis - JProclajni tjhe.gunjmer here, , ' Arid with their joy arid beauty i ! . A^jjend^thp gl^d ■~, if . ~,.. . , :r , Riroßiro.

NEW YEAR'S GREETINGS.

-0, sweet were the ,chimes from ibhe old . cfturph bells^ Bj t the pleasant hom^s where; >ye ! iV ,freej - iti : r ■.. _.- ~'_ '\\ '. ' -:" £ Apade^rtQusy.et'ip'thleilay wiich fcell^.' [' ; ,Q|th^pev|r Years-greetings beyoijd,Hfea I ,;"sea[.'.'!.' ',-:', [ ._ ;> ~, r _; : ; , ':^ • , '-' ■•] faijf are the scenes wnere the bell-bird : , singe,. ■ i^MH % km^pe^ richer |j" ue . While many a pleasure WoiNew?Barffi&5cv;- As our fondest Avishes go out to you.

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR. SATURDAY. DECEMBER 24. 1881.

7

