ell as if
we had gone into badly-drained lodgings at the seaside.
"This hill was now covered with snow, and stood off against the grey
sky. The white fields looked vast and dreary in the dusk. The only gay
things to be seen were the red berries on the holly hedge, in the
little lane--which, running by the end of our back-yard, led up to the
Hall--and a fat robin redbreast who was staring at me. I was watching
the robin, when Patty, who had been peering out of her corner of
Kitty's shawl, gave a great jump that dragged the shawl from our
heads, and cried,
"'LOOK!'
CHAPTER III.
"I looked. An old man was coming along the lane. His hair and beard
were as white as cotton-wool. He had a face like the sort of apple
that keeps well in winter; his coat was old and brown. There was snow
about him in patches, and he carried a small fir-tree.
"The same conviction seized upon us both. With one breath we
exclaimed, '_It's Old Father Christmas!_'
"I know now that it was only an old man of the place, with whom we did
not happen to be acquainted, and that he was taking a little fir-tree
up to the Hall, to be made into a Christmas-tree. He was a very
good-humoured old fellow, and rather deaf, for which he made up by
smiling and nodding his head a good deal, and saying, 'Aye, aye, _to_
be sure!' at likely intervals.
"As he passed us and met our earnest gaze, he smiled and nodded so
affably, that I was bold enough to cry, 'Good-evening, Father
Christmas!'
"'Same to you!' said he, in a high-pitched voice.
"'Then you _are_ Father Christmas?' said Patty.
"'And a Happy New Year,' was Father Christmas's reply, which rather
put me out. But he smiled in such a satisfactory manner, that Patty
went on, 'You're very old, aren't you?'
"'So I be, miss, so I be,' said Father Christmas, nodding.
"'Father says you're eighteen hundred and thirty years old,' I
muttered.
"'Aye, aye, to be sure,' said Father Christmas, 'I'm a long age.'
"A _very_ long age, thought I, and I added, 'You're nearly twice as
old as Methuselah, you know,' thinking that this might not have struck
him.
"'Aye, aye,' said Father Christmas; but he did not seem to think
anything of it. After a pause he held up the tree, and cried, 'D'ye
know what this is, little miss?'
"'A Christmas-tree,' said Patty.
"And the old man smiled and nodded.
"I leant over the wall, and shouted, 'But there are no candles.'
"'By and by,' said Father Christmas, no
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