and expecting the arrival of December, last of that wonderful company who had made the year so strangely interesting.
They had not long to wait. There came a lull in the wind, and far off in the distance a voice was heard raised in a commanding tone, and gradually drawing nearer.
"There! there!" were the first words they caught: "that will do. Leave the oaks alone, you rascals! Time enough for such pranks when I'm gone. As for that hemlock,—winds will be winds, I know, and what's done can never be undone; but don't let me catch you at another." Here the voice ceased; then there was a rattling at the latch, and next moment the door opened, and in came a tall figure leaning on a staff, but moving so lightly and easily that it suggested any thing rather than age or infirmity.
This was December, a fine, stately man, dressed in white and green, with a fur cloak flung about his shoulders and a hat decked with holly sprigs. Age and youth seemed funnily contrasted in his