What Grandfather Missed

Evening Post, Volume CIV, Issue 147, 19 December 1927, Page 20

What Grandfather Missed

I I j I B" RICHARD SELWYN MAXWELL j| j lit—ii-—n—~u—ni<**it(»Bi_i>»_i. f

(Copyright.) "■ " """"■ " " " " """ '*

THE most pathetic and lame hobby horse a man can ride is called "the Good Old Times." It is by Myth out of Distance. It is tried out every year- over the Christmas course, and has proved a bad stayer. Tet a lot of people keep up a touching faith in it.

This Christmas Eve the old crock was started off by the Lord and Master of the Acacias. Tho room was bright with the seasonable spirit. Festoons of chains and jolly lanterns gave off their warm rainbow colours by the clear light of the twin bulbs. The electric fire was a comforting ruby glow. The table was littered with cards and gifts. The Lord and Master, of course, stood with his long legs astride in front of the fire. Granfer occupied an armchair at the side. Sweet Seventeen was packing things, and chattering about nothing and everything. Thoughtful Twenty lolled over tho arm of the couch smoking a cigarette. There came a double knock at the front door, and in a few moments the maid brought in more cards. It wa3 the first of tliese which ho opened that set the Lord and Master on the familiar hobby horse.

"To wish you a real, old-fashioned Christmas," ho read out. "It's from Jenkins—there's one of tho fine old school. But ho knows it's no use wishing. The good old times have gone for over."

"Jolly good job, too," broke in Thoughtful Twenty. "And you would agree if you thought a bit, dad." The Lord and Master had had to meet rebellion before. He smiled indulgent-

m'^.3""" grandfathei what the real ula Christmas wag like,'-' be .quietly

suggested. But Granfer was dosing, or indulging in an excellent imitation. "It is not necessary," 'retorted Thoughtful Twenty. "Why, that card gives the game away. You praise Jenkins for sending you the wish for a real old-fashioned Christmas. Well, if you had it you could not have had his card for one thing. There were no Christmas cards in the 'good old days,' and he could not have posted his greeting in London last night to reach you here in the north in the morning. You forget, Dad, that the first card was only sent eighty years ago. Granfer could remember it."

<'But there was the jolly gathering around the real old Christmas fire," he began.

"Which could not be switched on and give its ruddy glow in an instant," broke in Thoughtful Twenty. "In those 'good old days,' before matches, they waited for the wood to dry and it sizzled ; and smouldered before it flamed. Usually it went oat just when it was most wanted. Then what a good old time it was for everybody. No tinder bos handy, and no neighbour dared be so friendly as to oblige with a light, for it was considered unlucky to let a light go out of a house during Christmas."

"Sh," exclaimed Sweet Seventeen. "There are the waits."

A chorus of th_in but not unpleasant and certainly seasonable voices came in from the porch. The Lord and Master began to feel that his hobby liovsc was taking up the running again. "That, at any rate, is a link with the 'good old times,' " c he said with a touch of triumph.

"Not a bit of it," persisted Thought ful Twenty. "My dear Dad, I don't believe you have over taken the trouble to &ni gut what Jhey were