'Whoever does these boots displace Must meet Bob Bastings face to face.

Observer, Volume 9, Issue 574, 28 December 1889, Page 13

' Whoever does these boots displace Must meet Bob Bastings face to face.

He peers at the boots and then looks around. At length he espies the giant. He goes cautiously up to him, shouts into one ear " Bob ;" then hides himself behind the chair; not a move on j the part of the giant. He then approaches the other ear and roars out " Bastings ;" no response. ■ At length gaining courage he comes fully forward ! and goes through a set of monkey tricks that sends us youngsters into screams of laughter. At length he approaches the dresser, and, exclaiming " who's afeard ?" seizes the boots. With one he gives the giant : a cut across the shins and with the other a thump in the stomach. Up jumps the monster with a fearful yell, and from his chest come the words, " Minion, defend youself !" He draws his hickory, but the little fellow is ready for him, and at it they go. At length the little fellow, by an upper cut, knocks the giant's head clean off ; the trunk immediately takes to its heels and rushes into the back kitchen, amid roars of laughter. The victor seizes the head by a convenient piece of string hanging out from the top, holds it up as high as he can, and with some word of triumph disappears likewise. Next follows the glee, " Hail, Smiling Morn," very well sung by male and female voices. The finishing performance was a very pretty dance, by the whole strength of the company — four males and four females. The four females took up their positions, North, South, East, and West, as near as they could guess on the lines of j a circle, a fiddle struck up, and each female ! made two steps forward and then a stop on the lines of the circle, and continued that movement until they had twice gone the entire round. Thp four male dancers each gyrating around his partner during their onwaid movements, waving gaudy handkerchiefs, like so many globes revolving around so many suns. It was indeed a very pretty dance and elicited warm applause from old and young. The entertainment was wound up by singing the first verse of " God Save the King," in which they all joined. The mummers then retired for refreshments and to put on their coarse but warm clothing over their several fineries. My father beckoned the leader of the troupe (he who played the fiddle), placed something into his hand, at which he looked, then grinned, than spat upon (for luck) and away they all went out into the clear frosty night to go through the same antics at other houses. We all returned to the parlour, and most of the children of tenderer years as well, for they would have been in the way of the supper laying out. When all was ready, and notice being given thereof by our girl Jane, who came in with a face like a peony, we all, with light steps and merry hearts, wended our way back again. Oh ! the screamings and smugglings of us young shavers to get advantageous seats at the heavily laden board— the scoldings, the pushings, and the liftings into places, must be imagined, for I cannot describe them. The supper as well must be 11 taken as read," with this exception— all tb.B comestibles were cold ; save the boiled rabbits and onion sauce, the jugged hares and the piles of potatoes (Devonshire reds to a spud) all in their jackets—" red without and balls of flour within." The company had largely increased since leaving the kitchen after the "mummy show." Several woodmen and others, workmen on the Duke's estate, with their wives, sisters, it may be sweethearts, my uncles and aunts, servants who bad come after the very small bevy of cousins, who having taken them home to bed had returned, and sundry others, were there for supper and dance after. And now we all sat down, ray grandfather occupying the seat of honour, with my mother on one side of him and my maiden aunt on the other. That was all. No separate table for the "quality" — quality be smothered! There was no quality there that night, for was it not Christmas Eve? All were equals on that festive occasion ; Jack was as good as his master, and Jenny as her mistress. The main and side tables were crowded ; some having a stand up supper at the dresser-nag more I verily believe had to take theirs in the back kitchen. Oh ! the noise of us all— the laughter, the olatter of knives, forks and plates. No whisperings from the home spun garmented, so as not to disturb the wearers of fine linen. Bah ! Suddenly, someone with the ears of a hare rose and cried " Hush !" Every voice was silent ; the kitchen door slightly opened, and in from the frost-laden outside air floated the strains of a violin, a clarionet and flute, playing a prelude. " The singers !" is whispered by the company. Presently a sweet tenor voice breaks out in that lovely recitative, " Behold 1 a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, &c, &c," then., followed th^horu^/f.^o^ unto, us a child is , born." ;The ■;

voices ceased. "Bid the singers come forward," said 'mfgm father. The next minute they came in shiverinjg(|J|| — warmly olad is they were, and made a bee lMe£j|| I for the gloriou^ fire. Having sufficiently warmeiiji|| themselves, ofi went their wraps and down thej£|||l sat amongst v.-. No formal " invite " was giv^||j|| but a cheery '• Come ! Come 1" that's the'way^|| I they did it, der - reader, 60 years ago. ;^sj| \ Being thoroughly refreshed with all sorts ; of J|| ' good things, th« singers prepared to go, for th^ii i had other " houses " to visit and sing at before||i they turned their steps homeward, wheniup rbj&l||j my grandfather and with a courtly bow to alljf|| round (a bow tbat George the 4th could not hayjss|| beaten) thus delivered himself — '.■;- : ' =^Pl " My dear frionds, many of you know thftt'in^J|| my younger days I was a member of our Ohurcßjl| choir. lam now very old and cannot expect : tb{|l| enjoy many more Christmas Eves, if any. Obligs':|| me before you go with the Hallelujah Chorus." ' y> J*M " Oh, certainly, Mr Hannaford," was the uni#||| versal response. ' • ! ;';;>s|| One of my uncles possessed himself of a violin,|^ my father went after and brought back his violin-£ : ||| cello, (a better player on that instrument was noi£Si alive in Devonshire ; ) after the necessary tuning^|| my uncle assumed the baton ; three raps with his|||| fiddle- stick. • Attention! The prelude began* fjj| then burst forth Handel's noblest chorus. Ob, c ||| the grandeur of it ! The rich, sweet voices blendea^l| in excellent time and tune. My grandfather's^^ could be plainly heard, as, with his grand head^%| lifted and eyes turned heavenwards, he joiri<as4P| in singing that magnificent anthem. At lengtly|j|| finished, a basin was brought forth,out flew sever&t= ; j|| purses, dives innumerable were made in waistcqati||| and trousers pockets, until that basin presented a ;V|| goodly appearance, which soon was transformediM|| to the leader of the singers 1 pocket, to go to//^ wards the choir's annual " junketting ;" an&|l| having each taken " something " hot, to keeg;||| the cold out, off they went blithely on theirj|§| way. "''fplh Those who were first introduced to you, dear "^p j reader, in the parlour, again returned to it, and-jf j our servant Jane became queen of the kitchen. --^$ j She had two fiddles at her command and un-.v^j limited license as regards refreshments, and tha£|||j is all I know about " Queen Jane's " reign inth&jfl kitchen that Christmas Eve, save that the uproar,^ the screams of laughter, and " rale enjiment ''s% that were indulged in oould be plainly heard by;|| us, despite the two thick closed doors and the||| hall's width between us and the seat of th^g revels. My father brewed a mighty bowl brjsj punch, of which I had a sip. All at once, out 1 rang the beautiful peal of eight bells from th&M high steeple of Totness Church. . V<|§ " Christmas Day," said my father. ;, ; L:l| "Yes," said my grandfather (after consuitirigV| what in these days would be deemed a very old'?|| fashioned watch) ; " and you and I, my dear^ he said, looking at my maiden aunt, " will ;b^ homeward bound." X-f^l Shortly afterwards I was put to bed, deiite tired, and when I went to my accustomed placs| (my mother's knees) and said my prayers, I feafcg they were of a very drowsy character. My little^l brother had preceded me hours before. / And now, dear reader, pray reflect before yoiijl charge me with egotism. I started by engaging?! to give as near as I could remember a truthful|] description of a Christmas Eve in England, 60| years ago. How could I do that unless it'hadjf come under my own personal observation ? A n <|| where would or could scenes occur that would be'| likely to fix themselves on my memory as thbsej! that were enacted within the pircle of my bw.n| family ? If that is not a sufficiently explanatory! reason, I can only regret it ! /' t s| lam finishing this trifling sketch deep in f | night. All the household save myself are buried,]! in profound slumber. From the street outside^ not a sound or a footfall is heard ; all is in truthw| silent as the- grave. The picture of that parlour^ stands before my mental vision with startling dis-^| tinctness. I yearn for a touch of those vanished^ hands long years ago resolved to their native|s dust, and the sound of those voices stilled for>^ time. The salt rheum gathers in my eyes"! and overflows their lids and courses down:! my aged cheeks in hot bitter tears ss\^| contemplate that picture of the long, long ago;j;|| Every figure in that mind picture is held'iri| loving remembrance— each and all of them hdld||| ing the warmest corner in my heart. One aftes| another they drop out— drop ! drop ! 4ropjf^ until only one remains ! A little time — it maydf be months, it may even extend to a few short|| years— and I myself will drop out likewise ; anip the canvas be a blank ! - M Is there no reunion ? Is the answer to that| all potent question to be never 1 nevermore >2| Then what avails it that you treasured in your bosom the highest'^ attribute of the Deity, pure and undefile4| — ari unselfish spotless love for the dear oi^es| vanished from earth never to return ? I say^ainj attribute of the Deity, for we are emphatipallyj| told that God is Love ! . '■"'<'o§ We cannot tell, no living mortal can pierce thep grand secret. The great teacher said "I am ,the| Resurrection aDd the Life." We can only:| humbly trust in those comforting words, holding!; steadfast to that humble trust, having each fotfl our motto to the end of our allotted spans — hope; j and believe. ' v.. ■' 'V*| — T. B. Hannaford. - /^'