hful of night-air. Bang against this fine, fleshy old English
gentleman went he, and down came one of his heels on the gouty
great-toe.

"There was a tremendous roar, as from the great Bull of Bashan; the
countenance of the fine, fleshy old English gentleman became livid,
and, in the deep anguish of his soul, he saluted the disturber of
his peace with a tremendous--KICK!

"The black rod vanished in a moment from the hand of Mr. R.
Fennarf, and his very soul jumped for joy.

"'Merry Christmas!' he shouted, violently shaking the hand of the
now bewildered old gentleman with the plum nose.

"Then, on he darted toward his house. It was lighted up in every
window. There was music in the house, too, and dancing. In he flew,
with a delightful presentiment of what was going on. Sure enough,
his daughter Alexandra had come home, with her husband the potboy,
and a score of friends, and all hands were hard at a cotillon.

"'Father, forgive us!' screamed Alexandra.

"'Your pariental blessing,' suggested the potboy with much feeling.

"'Support them for life,' murmured the friends.

"'My children,' said Mr. R. Fennarf, rubbing his back, 'you must
forgive _me_. Henceforth we live together, and celebrate every
coming Christmas-eve by meeting all our friends again, as now. I am
a new man from this time forth; for on this very night I have
learned a great and useful lesson.'

"Then all was jollity again, and the potboy, notwithstanding the
shortness of his legs, danced like a veritable Christy minstrel.

"Meantime, a certain retired hackney-coachman in the company, who
had attentively noted the reconciliation of father and daughter,
called the former into a corner of the room, and said very gravely
to him:

"'You said you had learned a lesson to-night?'

"'Yes.'

"'What is it?' asked the hackney-coachman.

"'It is,' said Mr. R. Fennarf, with solemnity, 'that no man need go
out of his own country to be kicked!'"

As Captain Bob Shorty finished reading, he looked about him for the
first time, and lo! all the Mackerel chieftains were slumbering, with
their chins upon their breasts.

And now, my boy, as the New Year rolls in, let me tender you the
compliments of the season, and sign myself,

Yours for festivity,

ORPHEUS C. KERR.

LETTER CIV.

EXPLAINING, IN A LUCID AND P