ODD EXPERIENCES OF CHRISTMASTIDE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4263, 20 December 1881, Page 4

ODD EXPERIENCES OF CHRISTMASTIDE.

(London Sooiety.) At all timos I am fond of haunting the London streets. At oertain seasons I am especially fond of London pedestrianism. I need hardly say that the speoial brightness and cheerfulness of the streets at Christmastide are exceedingly attraotivo to me. Alter that midday rest -and lethargy which pervade even the London streets to an appreciable extent, there is a fresh stirring into life, as the whole line of illumination suddenly stretches from shop to shop all through the Btreets -, the crowd, in fresh life, fresh numbeea, pass to and fro along the pavement. What a orowd of boyß and girls are on the pavement ! They are pouring out of places •f entertainment— fresh from the "oncert, the leoture-room, the Polytechnic, the afternoon theatre performance — they are accompanying their mothers, who are giving mighty orders at shops and stores; they are laden with presents from right-minded uncles and fond fathers. It is easy to see that these tall lustrouß-eyed Bohool-girls are home for their holidays, and are contemplating the Arabian wonders behin 1 the thiok plate glass. The o is something cheering even in the thick British fog ». • it is penetrated by the light a, M the flush. a handsome faoes oome into relief beforo the windows, and then fado away suddenly into the obscurity. Men, women, and ohildren all take their holiday ; the only business whioh they know just now is fche business of pleasure. There is a pause of relief as the old year wears itself away. Even the busiest people have broken the neok of their business. If Ihey have not sent out their acoounts aud mado up their balances, that will stand over very well to the beginning of the new year. The hard sordid lines of life that mark the ordinary aspoot of the streets are partially effaced, ana there is a more homely, a more pleasant, a more vivacious life in the streets. Loudon is looking forward to its Christmasday and Boxing-night. I feel cheerful uud dated, and breathe a Christmas beniaon on the whole human race. I peroeive thafc there ia something special and abnormal in London at this time. I beUeve in Dickens's jovial Christmas giant, who scatters an invisible influence from his abundant horn. As I walk along the streets lam sure to meet sundry of my friends. All know each other's haunts, and are not indisposed to fall into each other's way. We ull soern to be doing something at the shops in the way of game and fish and oysters. The shopß are like groveß, with fur and feather more abundant than was ever seen on stubble or in woodland. In ordinary life we are very busy, and do little more than exchange nods. But hew we mutually proffer glasses of dry sherry at the olub; and men who had uniformly preserved a dead silence, now plant themselves in front of the fire and give utterance to observations. I sometimes leave these cheerful well-known haunts to dive into baok Btreote aud hidden corners. I like to realise the vast humanity of London. I lovo to trace the pervading influences of Ohristmas. It iB curious, too, how many oountry friendß you meet in the streets about Christmas. I suppose thafc the Ohristmaß-box, the beßfc kind of etrennes, is thought to be purchased best ia Loudon. They say if a mun uoea not wiah to be known he had better plunge into London. I have heard the Btory ot a man who quarrellod witn his wife, and he took a house next door or next street, where he lived many yoars without her ever suspeoting his existonce. As 1 walk along the Strana this afternoon, I meet an old friend from Wales whom I have not seen for a dozen years. I gefc into an omnibus, and there I meet two friends from my ovra neighbourhood. Ab I get out oi the omnibus, I nearly fall into the arms of a dear old lady who watched over my earliest youth. It seems to me that London is the great place for finding, and nofc for losing. I get invitations for Ohristmas parties iv the oountry and for evening parties at home. If I go one of these Christmas nights, I am sure to meet people whom I never thought of meeting ; ana more than thafc, I venture to aay, so small is the circle of life, that I cannot have ten minutes' walk with any party without discovering that he and I have friends in common. After all, the world is only a littlo ■ world, aud the surface of sooiety muoh smaller than we thmk. I notice some curious oddities in tha streets. I don't think very muoh of the gentleman who offers mo a traot, although I am sure ius motives were kindly and well-intenfcioued. One day I saw a tmotidistributor on the top of an omnibus scattering his traots on tho right hand uud on the left. He was certainly sowing his seed ia a very broadcast fashion. I take a great fanoy to that benevolent old gentleman who, seeing two bright eyed eager boys staring in at a window on the Christmas aerials, invites them to walk in and ohoose a book apiece for themselves. That is a kind of Ohristmas - box whioh a kind-hearted stranger might offer and any lad accept. There is a similar old gentleman who, m the plentitude of his Christmns feelings, is regaling BOino lads ad libitum with veai p.. a und ginger beer. " Now, my boy," said the old genta-mao, " what would you do with a new shiihi,^ it 1 gave it you ? " "I should save it, sir,"ssid tho lad. "Save it, you young miser," i xolaimed the old fellow ,• " I am not going to give my money to be hoarded up." The boy was equal to the emergency, and at once expressed an entire readiness to convert it into mince pies. The shilling was given, but I am afraid tbat boy's morel nature underwont a bouleversement. Once I saw a gentlemen offer a child a shilling. " Jfo, thank you, sir; but I am very much obliged," was the answer. "It's not enough," said the old gentleman. " I'll make it a sovoroign." "No, thank you," was again the ans wor. "My parents do not allow me to accept presents." Once I was at a restaurant where a bright intelligent waitress was giving ohange for a five-pound note. The customer, whoss appearance waß not prepoßsesing, j. lahed more than one sovereign towards her, and said, "You hud better keep the ohange." The girl coloured up. "Indeed, sir, I should feel that I had quite lost my independence if i look co muoh money." " Perhaps you will not oVject to my change ? " I said, proffering tho magnificent amount of threepence-half penny. "Thank you very much," oho answered, "I do not obj tot to coppers, though I do to gold." Once I went into a little shop to get a shave. Thoso were the days of the old shaving heresy, from which I am now hap- i pily liberated. I used to pay a shilling to bo | frightfully mangled, but a friend put me up to a plan whereby I got a olever, oleau, comfortable Bhave for the ridiculously low sum of one penny.. My barber wt»s a merry littlo fellow, reminding me of him celebrated by Boaumarehuia and Rossini. With him thero waa a tnll man, with hun^rv eyes and juicy lips, having a decided .-mack of tho transpontine actor. As the littlo barber, after a few seasonable remurks, commenced operations, the big fellow Baid, "lfc will be somothing like a Christmas gooso." "Itis a goose, sir," Baid the barber, « that I've had vay eye on for tho last seventeen weeks, and have paid up for every Saturday," aaid tho barber. " Our friend here had better come in and have a cut," suid tho tall man. •'By all means, cut and come again," said the cheerful littlo barber. " What's the damage ?" I inquired, Dot that I had the least idoa of eic mg in, but I thought that tho remark i filed for uu answer. "Damage! There's no damage at oil," mid j tho choorf ul barber. "Anybody thai. luir j oomes into my shop ou Ohristmus Day and • has a cut of gooso. "You sco, sir," said the tall man. "he does ifc to extend his connoction. It is quite worth his while to spend a pound or so to give a freo dinnor fco his frini'M once in a way. They rcmomber it all thi- rest of tho year. It koep3 tbe businoss to^. ther." (To be continued.)

Bose : " Oh, mino' a a Bpooning littlo doll, dent you know, Maude ; fond of making lovo." Maude : " Get her married at onco, Boso ; she will novor mako lovo any more !" Indignant Mother : ' Surely you don't moan this for a likoness of my »on ? Why, tho boy looks like un idiot." I'Hotographer : " I'm \ery sorry, but I oau'u help that, jna'am."