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Show WOMAN'S EXPONENT 42 MUSTY LEAVES, BROWN WITH AGE. CHRISTMAS IN AN ENGLISH VILLAGE. Christmas eve in a small manufacturing villiage in England, early in the nineteenth century, and preparations for the usual gay festivities were going forward; young men and women were arranging the mistletoe and holly in the prosperous homes of the working people; and in many of the cottages beer had been brewed by the prudent house wives who took care "the master" should drink his good ale at home instead nf joining in a carouse at the village inn. Everywhere it was plain to be seen that the yearly Christmas festival was drawing nigh. The one little church, outside, was profusely decorated within, and the choristers, dressed for the occasion, were wending their way to begin the sublime choruses. Not far from the church, in the most pretentious house the village could boast, there was great anxiety, bustle and confusion. The doctor's gig stood by the gateway, and the cottagers looked anxiously about and around, and inquired of each other whether there was any word from Mrs. Windeyer, for the village folks were all "agate" to hear the news, and each one wanted to be first to tell "the glad tidings," if such it should be. "The master," as he was called by them all, was a prime favorite, he had been born among them, as they often said to each other,and there were no doubts in their minds as to the doctor's prolonged stay at the "Squire's house." The evening grew late, and still no word came. Indeed there seemed almost a hush to brood over the homes of the neighborhood; and the women, especially the mothers, waited in almost breathless silence for the wheels of the doctor's gig. The doors were shut, for it was bitter cold, and there was keen, sharp frost in the air; music from the church rang out on the still night, clear and full of tender pathos; and the children, heeding not the cold, could be seen in groups going up and down, here and there singing snatches of Christmas melodies as they threw from door to door sprays of holly, calling out, "Christmas box." Finally all hilarity had ceased, and quiet was settling down, then the Christmas bells began ringing joyfully, and just then Nurse Goodman came down the oaken staircase in her soft slippers, beaming with pride, though tears we're on her cheeks, and opening the door of the great dining room where "the master" sat by the open fire uneasy and restless, announced ere entering, "Ye may'n come up now, Maister Windeyer, as quick as ye like, ye've a fine son born to the tune o' the Xmas bells, and he'l be mighty lucky, I'm sure, for he roared as we could na hear the bells ring." Many a good woman peeped out inquiringly7 from behind her bedroom curtains as the doctor's gig rattled over the frozen ground on his homeward way long after midnight; but the first gray dawn of morning found the village very wide awake, and the news that an heir was born to "Maister Windeyer" on Christmas eve, just as the bells were ringing, flew from house to house like wildfire; and such a Christmas they all declared there had never been since the old '"Maister Windeyer'stime." Christmas baskets laden with good things, wrere distributed through the entire village, and there was feasting and rejoicing and merrymaking the week through, great flagons of It w.as ivy-cover- ed beer were opened for the men, and bottles of good wine sent to the women folks. The women were not fond of the young mistress, and they were free to talk of her to one another, she was net their sort. "Young Maister should have wed oneHil-lie-of r the girls from hereabouts," said Mrs. Cousins to her neighbor, Janet (after her first visit to see the baby) "and not gone off to Bristol for a stuck up young woman; I doubt me she'll put fine notions into the lad's head when he grows up; he'll not be fit to take Maister' s place if he takes after his mother, who'd listen to the likes o' her, I wonder?" "Now don't be prophesyin' evil of the lad, he's to be christened soon," said Mrs. Cousins, "and Lizzie tells me the boy's robe is two yards and a half long, of the finest cambric muslin, and the lace is old Venetian, and his head is so thick covered with golden curls that Mrs. Windeyer told the nurse he need'nt wear caps, (though they're all the finest lace) but Nurse Goodman wouldn't hear to it, and our Lizzie says as how Mrs. Windeyer made herself sick a cryin' and frettin' about the caps." E'zzie was Mrs. Cousins' daughter and a sort of lady's maid to Mrs. Windeyer, and she never tired of repeating to her mother what her young mistress said and did, and Janet, as her mother was always called, told everything to Mrs. Hillier (with whom she never agreed about anything, however) for she had a kind heart and Mrs. Hillier was envious that the young squire had not taken to her daughter Fanny, to whom he paid "great attentions," as she repeated over and over again till the whole village gossiped about it, and Fanny was so upset she declared "that she went off to her uncle's in Derby to be out of hearing, and so's nobody should see she was cut up The truth was she about the marriage." went away until the gossip should die out, for she was a sensible young woman, and young Windeyer had given her to understand what he had meant by "his attentions" Mrs. Hillier had talked of so much. "Well-a-day- , whoever heard the like!" said Mrs. Cousins to Lizzie, as the girl repeated to her mother the scene at the Squire's the night before the christening, on her first visit home afterwards. "Little you tho't sittin' there in the church so solemn-likwhat a fuss our Mistress had been making with the young Master the Nurse Goodman told the night before, whole thing to me. She wouldn't think of he's even having his father's name, as if William wasn't a grand name, when kings have borne it, as Master told her, and his father too before him; but no, she wouldn't hear of it, he must be called for his grandfather, the Admiral, and she had her way, but I do think it is a mighty pretty name, Edward; and Nurse said too as how the Squire wanted Fanny Hillier to be the child's godmother, and the Mistress flew into a passion directly and she said, "Yes, I've heard of your attentions to that young woman, and a nice scandal it would cause if she were to be godmother; no, indeed, I've sent for Aunt Matilda, and she'll be here presently;' and sure enough, Nurse said, just then the door bell rang, and before Mrs. Windeyer had quieted down, Miss Gordon (Aunt Matilda as she called her) had her wraps off and was in the room, and such a flurry as there was; but the Squire was as sober as a judge, and never a word did he sav, so she had it all e, her own way, and Master has scarcely spoken a syllable iu the house since." "And to think how fine and pleased we all were, and wishing them joy like that," said Mrs. Hillier, when Janet repeated this conversation to her, "she to think my Fanny not good enough to be the child's godmother (he's a regular beauty, they all say) and I doubt me he'l be as proud as a peacock and Lord it over the workmen when he steps in his father's shoes, if he ever should have that honor." And half the village knew the story before it was a week old. Time went on and the village prospered, and Mr. Windeyer grew rich with one invention and another at the mills; but his wife was as haughty as he was amiable, and quite as much disliked as he was beloved. Oae more son had been born to them, nine years after the first; but he was a del'.cate boy, while Edward was strong and manly, and a greater favorite than even his father had been. Fanny Hillier remained single and was Edward's first teacher; and strangely enough, as he grew up, he clung to her as his ideal, which vexed his mother greatly, and she contrived by all means in her power to keep her son away, which only made matters worse. Fanny had a younger sister, Caroline, who was a sort of musical genius, a singer who played the violin; and Edward would steal away and spend his evenings there, singing and playing on the flute to Carrie's violin, while the stately Fannie accompanied them on the spinet. "He is only a boy, and will outgrow this childish love for girls to much older than himself," his father replied when appealed to. '"I have no fears, besides he must be sent to college, we can well affoid it; let him go away from home, it is high time." Mrs. Windeyer had been urging him to take some positive measures to break off the intimacy with the people she considered so far beneath her as the Hilliers. Mrs. Windeyer made up her mind Edward should go at once and set about the preparations. His father was quite willing he knew the boy was well advanced in his studies, a fine scholar, all his teaches said, but the parents realized he needed some training and discipline beforehand, and fin. ally decided he should go to Bristol, his mother's native city, and remain there a year under the tutelage of a learned professor whom his mother had previously known. The boy went away willingly at last, though he had protested against it and made more ado about leaving Fanny Hillier than his own father and mother, (of which fact his mother was in blissful ignorance) though bis father guessed it from hints dropped by the elder Hillier, who was one of the Squire's trusted overseers at the mills. The first few weeks Edward studied diligently, and Professor Hadley wrote glowing accounts of his young student to the parents at Merton, but later on he informed them that their boy was passionately fond of the sea, though his lessons were perfectly learned, he had such a wonderful memory; but his thoughts seemed and whethfaraway, he was absent-minde- d er waking or dreaming, it was always the "It is born in the boy, and he can't sea, help it," said his father. "Undoubtedly you've filled his head with nursery tales of your grandfather, the old Admiral, aud you've hung those marine views in every |
