The last strain of the grand old Christmas hymn had just been warbled forth from the throats and hearts of a number of happy folks, who were seated around the blazing log one Christmas eve; and on the face of each one of that family circle the cheering light revealed the look of happiness; the young--happy in the present, and indulging in hopeful anticipations for the future; the old,--equally happy as the young, and revelling in many a darling memory of the past. "Come, Uncle John!" said a bright-eyed, flaxen-haired beauty, over whose head not more than ten Christmas days had passed,--"Come, uncle, _do_ tell us a story; you know that we always expect one from you."…
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