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Irving, Washington, 1783-1859

"Old Christmas"


--HERRICK.
When I awoke the next morning, it seemed as if all the events of the
preceding evening had been a dream, and nothing but the identity of the
ancient chamber convinced me of their reality. While I lay musing on my
pillow, I heard the sound of little feet pattering outside of the door,
and a whispering consultation. Presently a choir of small voices chanted
forth an old Christmas carol, the burden of which was:
"Rejoice, our Saviour he was born
On Christmas Day in the morning."
I rose softly, slipped on my clothes, opened the door suddenly, and
beheld one of the most beautiful little fairy groups that a painter
could imagine.
It consisted of a boy and two girls, the eldest not more than six, and
lovely as seraphs. They were going the rounds of the house, and singing
at every chamber-door; but my sudden appearance frightened them into
mute bashfulness. They remained for a moment playing on their lips with
their fingers, and now and then stealing a shy glance, from under their
eyebrows, until, as if by one impulse, they scampered away, and as they
turned an angle of the gallery, I heard them laughing in triumph at
their escape.
Everything conspired to produce kind and happy feelings in this
stronghold of old-fashioned hospitality. The window of my chamber looked
out upon what in summer would have been a beautiful landscape. There was
a sloping lawn, a fine stream winding at the foot of it, and a tract
of park beyond, with noble clumps of trees, and herds of deer.


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