earts by storm; we had never seen anything like
him, though now-a-days you may get a plaster figure of him in any
toy-shop at Christmas-time, with hair and beard like cotton-wool, and
a Christmas-tree in his hand.

"The custom of Christmas-trees came from Germany. I can remember when
they were first introduced into England, and what wonderful things we
thought them. Now, every village school has its tree, and the scholars
openly discuss whether the presents have been 'good' or 'mean,' as
compared with other trees of former years.

"The first one that I ever saw I believed to have come from good
Father Christmas himself; but little boys have grown too wise now to
be taken in for their own amusement. They are not excited by secret
and mysterious preparations in the back drawing-room; they hardly
confess to the thrill--which I feel to this day--when the
folding-doors are thrown open, and amid the blaze of tapers, Mamma,
like a Fate, advances with her scissors to give every one what falls
to his lot.

"Well, young people, when I was eight years old I had not seen a
Christmas-tree, and the first picture of one I ever saw was the
picture of that held by Old Father Christmas in my godmother's
picture-book.

"'What are those things on the tree?' I asked.

"'Candles,' said my father.

"'No, father, not the candles; the other things?'

"'Those are toys, my son.'

"'Are they ever taken off?'

"'Yes, they are taken off, and given to the children who stand round
the tree.'

"Patty and I grasped each other by the hand, and with one voice
murmured, 'How kind of Old Father Christmas!'

"By and by I asked, 'How old is Father Christmas?'

"My father laughed, and said, 'One thousand eight hundred and thirty
years, child,' which was then the year of our Lord, and thus one
thousand eight hundred and thirty years since the first great
Christmas Day.

"'He _looks_ very old,' whispered Patty.

"And I, who was, for my age, what Kitty called 'Bible-learned,' said
thoughtfully, and with some puzzledness of mind, 'Then he's older than
Methuselah.'

"But my father had left the room, and did not hear my difficulty.

"November and December went by, and still the picture-book kept all
its charm for Patty and me; and we pondered on and loved Old Father
Christmas as children can love and realize a fancy friend. To those
who remember the fancies of their childhood I need say no more.

"Christmas week came, Christmas Eve came. My f