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IN THE YULE-LOG GLOW

CHRISTMAS TALES FROM 'ROUND THE WORLD

"Sic as folk tell ower at a winter ingle"

_Scott_

EDITED BY

HARRISON S. MORRIS

THREE VOLUMES IN ONE.

Book II.

PHILADELPHIA

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 1900.

Copyright, 1891, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.

PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA.




CONTENTS OF BOOK II


CHRISTMAS WITH THE BARON
_By Angelo J. Lewis._

A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE
_By Harrison S. Morris._

SALVETTE AND BERNADOU
_From the French of Alphonse Daudet._
_By Harrison S. Morris._

THE WOLF TOWER

THE PEACE EGG
_By Juliana Horatia Ewing._

A STORY OF NUREMBERG
_By Agnes Repplier._

A PICTURE OF THE NATIVITY BY FRA FILIPPO LIPPI
_By Vernon Lee._

MELCHIOR'S DREAM
_By Juliana Horatia Ewing._

MR. GRAPEWINE'S CHRISTMAS DINNER
_By Harrison S. Morris._




ILLUSTRATIONS, BOOK II.


THE DAUGHTER OF THE BARON

THE HOSPITAL

MUMMERS

"A HILLY COUNTRY"





    _A Droll Chapter by a Swiss Gossip._

    "I here beheld an agreeable old
    fellow, forgetting age, and showing
    the way to be young at sixty-five."

    _Goldsmith._




CHRISTMAS WITH THE BARON.


I.

Once upon a time--fairy tales always begin with once upon a time--once
upon a time there lived in a fine old castle on the Rhine a certain
Baron von Schrochslofsleschshoffinger. You will not find it an easy name
to pronounce; in fact, the baron never tried it himself but once, and
then he was laid up for two days afterwards; so in future we will merely
call him "the baron," for shortness, particularly as he was rather a
dumpy man.

After having heard his name, you will not be surprised when I tell you
that he was an exceedingly bad character. For a baron, he was considered
enormously rich; a hundred and fifty pounds a year would not be thought
much in this country; but still it will buy a good deal of sausage,
which, with wine grown on the estate, formed the chief sustenance of the
baron and his family.

Now, you will hardly believe that, notwithstanding he was the possessor
of this princely revenue, the baron was not satisfied, but oppressed
and ground down his unfortunate tenants to the very last penny he could
possibly squeeze out of them. In all his exactions he was seconded and
encouraged by his steward Klootz, an old rascal who took a malicious
pleasure in his master's cruelty, and who chuckled and rubbed his hands
with the greatest apparent enjoyment when any of the poor landholders
could not pay their rent, or afforded him any opportunity for
oppression.

Not content with making the poor tenants pay double value for the land
they rented, the baron was in the habit of going round every now and
then to their houses and ordering anything he took a fancy to, from a
fat pig to a pretty daughter, to be sent up to the castle. The pretty
daughter was made parlor-maid, but as she had nothing a year, and to
find herself, it wasn't what would be considered by careful mothers an
eligible situation. The fat pig became sausage, of course.

Things went on from bad to worse, till, at the time of our story,
between the alternate squeezings of the baron and his steward, the poor
tenants had very little left to squeeze out of them. The fat pigs and
pretty daughters had nearly all found their way up to the castle, and
there was little left to take.

[Illustration: The Daughter of the Baron]

The only help the poor fellows had was the baron's only daughter, Lady
Bertha, who always had a kind word, and frequently something more
substantial, for them when her father was not in the way.

Now, I'm not going to describe Bertha, for the simple reason that if I
did you would imagine that she was the fairy I'm going to tell you
about, and she isn't. However, I don't mind giving you a few outlines.

In the first place, she was exceedingly tiny,--the nicest girls, the
real lovable little pets, always are tiny,--and she had long silken
black hair, and a dear, dimpled little face full of love and mischief.
Now, then, fill up the outline with the details of the nicest and
prettiest girl you know, and you will have a slight idea of her. On
second thoughts, I don't believe you will, for your portrait wouldn't be
half good enough; however, it will be near enough for you.

Well, the baron's daughter, being all your fancy painted her and a
trifle more, was naturally much distressed at the goings-on of her
unamiable parent