e was a quaintness, too, mingled with all this revelry that gave
it a peculiar zest; it was suited to the time and place; and as the old
Manor House almost reeled with mirth and wassail, it seemed echoing back
the joviality of long-departed years.

*[11] See Note K.

But enough of Christmas and its gambols; it is time for me to pause
in this garrulity. Methinks I hear the questions asked by my graver
readers, "To what purpose is all this?--how is the world to be made
wiser by this talk?" Alas! is there not wisdom enough extant for the
instruction of the world? And if not, are there not thousands of abler
pens labouring for its improvement?--It is so much pleasanter to please
than to instruct--to play the companion rather than the preceptor.

What, after all, is the mite of wisdom that I could throw into the mass
of knowledge? or how am I sure that my sagest deductions may be safe
guides for the opinions of others? But in writing to amuse, if I fail,
the only evil is my own disappointment. If, however, I can by any lucky
chance, in these days of evil, rub out one wrinkle from the brow of
care, or beguile the heavy heart of one moment of sorrow; if I can now
and then penetrate through the gathering film of misanthropy, prompt a
benevolent view of human nature, and make my reader more in good humour
with his fellow beings and himself, surely, surely, I shall not then
have written entirely in vain.

THE END.

Notes

[Footnote 1: NOTE A.

The misletoe is still hung up in farmhouses and kitchens at Christmas;
and the young men have the privilege of kissing the girls under it,
plucking each time a berry from the bush. When the berries are all
plucked, the privilege ceases.]

[Footnote 2: NOTE B.

The Yule-clog is a great log of wood, sometimes the root of a tree,
brought into the house with great ceremony, on Christmas eve, laid in
the fireplace, and lighted with the brand of last year's clog. While
it lasted there was great drinking, singing, and telling of tales.
Sometimes it was accompanied by Christmas candles, but in the cottages
the only light was from the ruddy blaze of the great wood fire. The
Yule-clog was to burn all night; if it went out, it was considered a
sign of ill luck.

Herrick mentions it in one of his songs:

"Come, bring with a noise
My merrie, merrie boyes,
The Christmas log to the firing:
While my good dame, she