t it, but a sleigh ride in such a wind and such clothes
when one is expecting party guests--" but the relieved Doctor was
already bundling the brown-gold brocade into a fur-lined coat and
furtively winking at Roger! Thus it was that even as the Doctor's sleigh
flew merrily by the Deacon's pond, far across the snowy fields to the
north gleamed the lights of the 7:52 rushing noisily into the village.

III

By the Fire

How it was that the old Doctor somehow lost his way on roads he had
traveled since boyhood was a matter of exceeding mystery and annoyance
to Aunt Ellen, but lose it he did. By the time he found it and jogged
frantically back home, the old house was already aswarm with masked,
mysterious guests and old Asher with a lantern was peering excitedly up
the road. Holly-trimmed sleighs full of merry neighbors in disguise were
dashing gaily up--and in the midst of all the excitement the Doctor
miraculously discovered his own mask and Aunt Ellen's in the pocket of
his great-coat. So hospitable Aunt Ellen, considerably perturbed that so
many of her guests had arrived in her absence--an absence carefully
planned by the Doctor--betook herself to the masquerade, and the
Christmas party began with bandits and minstrels and jesters and all
sorts of queer folk flitting gaily about the house. They paid gallant
court to Roger in his great chair by the fire and presently began to
present for his approval an impromptu Mummer's play.

And now the lights were all out and a masked and courtly old gentleman
in satin breeches was standing in the bright firelight pouring brandy
into a giant bowl of raisins; and now he was gallantly bowing to Roger
himself who was plainly expected to assist with a lighted match. He did
this with trembling fingers and eyes so big and black and eloquent that
the Doctor cleared his throat; and as the leaping flames from the
snapdragon bowl flashed weirdly over the bizarre company in the shadows.
Roger, eagerly watching them snatch the raisins from the fire, fell to
trembling in an ecstasy of delight. Presently a slender arm in a crimson
sleeve, whose wearer was never very far from Roger's chair, slipped
quietly about his shoulders and held him very tight. So, an endless
round of merry Christmas games until, deep and mellow came at last the
majestic boom of the grandfather's clock striking twelve and with it a
hearty babel of Christmas greetings as the Doctor, smiling significantly
down into