an excuse for many things," I
replied, "but not early in September."

"Oh, you know what I mean," he answered, "we are in the middle of our
Christmas number. I am working day and night upon it. By the bye," he
added, "that puts me in mind. I am arranging a symposium, and I want you
to join. 'Should Christmas,'"--I interrupted him.

"My dear fellow," I said, "I commenced my journalistic career when I
was eighteen, and I have continued it at intervals ever since. I have
written about Christmas from the sentimental point of view; I have
analyzed it from the philosophical point of view; and I have scarified
it from the sarcastic standpoint. I have treated Christmas humorously
for the Comics, and sympathetically for the Provincial Weeklies. I
have said all that is worth saying on the subject of Christmas--maybe a
trifle more. I have told the new-fashioned Christmas story--you know the
sort of thing: your heroine tries to understand herself, and, failing,
runs off with the man who began as the hero; your good woman turns out
to be really bad when one comes to know her; while the villain, the only
decent person in the story, dies with an enigmatic sentence on his lips
that looks as if it meant something, but which you yourself would
be sorry to have to explain. I have also written the old-fashioned
Christmas story--you know that also: you begin with a good old-fashioned
snowstorm; you have a good old-fashioned squire, and he lives in a good
old-fashioned Hall; you work in a good old-fashioned murder; and end up
with a good old-fashioned Christmas dinner. I have gathered Christmas
guests together round the crackling logs to tell ghost stories to each
other on Christmas Eve, while without the wind howled, as it always does
on these occasions, at its proper cue. I have sent children to Heaven
on Christmas Eve--it must be quite a busy time for St. Peter, Christmas
morning, so many good children die on Christmas Eve. It has always been
a popular night with them.--I have revivified dead lovers and brought
them back well and jolly, just in time to sit down to the Christmas
dinner. I am not ashamed of having done these things. At the time I
thought them good. I once loved currant wine and girls with towzley
hair. One's views change as one grows older. I have discussed Christmas
as a religious festival. I have arraigned it as a social incubus. If
there be any joke connected with Christmas that I have not already made
I should be glad