But is old, old, good old Cmas gone? Not t? ell, I  have more of him.

    NOtful spell over my imagination toms and rural games of former times. tures my fancy used to dra I only kne to be all t poets ed it; and t days of yore, in o t present. I regret to say t t, being gradually ime, but still more obliterated by modern fasuresque morsels of Gotecture ry, partly dilapidated by te of ages and partly lost in tions and alterations of latter days.

    Poetry,  t s ts ric toefully repaying t by clasping togetottering remains, and, as it hem in verdure.

    Of all tivals,  of Cmas arongest and most felt associations. tone of solemn and sacred feeling t blends y and lifts t to a state of ed enjoyment.

    t tremely tender and inspiring. tiful story of toral scenes t accompanied its announcement. t, until t brougo men. I do not kno of music on to mas ant of t pile riump harmony.

    It is a beautiful arrangement, also, derived from days of yore, t tival,  of togetions, and dras ing to cast loose; of calling back to assemble about ternal  rallying-place of tions, to groos of childhood.

    t gives a   co tivity of Cmas. At otimes  portion of our pleasures from ties of Nature.

    Our feelings sally forte t;live abroad and everyream, t voluptuousness of summer, tumn, earts mantle of refres deep delicious blue and its cloudy magni?cence,--all ?ll us e but exquisite deligion. But in ter, urn for our grati?cations to moral sources.

    tion of t gloomy days an