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UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN

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ofa
AA

By the Rev. P. B. P OWE . M AA
Author of 'THE OILED FEAHER &c.
OCIET
KNOWLEDGE,
NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, LONDON, W.C.

_
_

___
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It is by the judicious use of such
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Rowland's
Kalydor

GRATEFUL-COMFORTING.

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(BREAKFAST)

BIRBECK BAN K,
ESTABLISHED

1851.

COCOA

Southampton Buildings, Chancery Lane.
THREE per CENT. INTEREST allowed on DEPOSITS,
repayable on demand.
TWO per CENT. on CURRENT ACCOUNTS, when not
drawn below £ioo.
STOCKS, SHARES, and ANNUITIES purchased & sold.

BOILING WATER OR MILK.

SAYINGS DEPARTMENT.
For the encouragement of Thrift the Bank receives small
ums on deposit, and allows Interest, at the rate of THREE
ER CENT. per annum, on each completed Li. The Interest

s added to the principal on 3xst March annually.

Hundreds of subtle maladies are floating around us,
ready to attack wherever there is a weak point. We may
escape many a fatal shaft by keeping ourselves well fortified with pure blood and a properly nourished frame."
-Civil Service Gazette. Sold only in packets, by Grocers,
labelled-" JAMES EPPs & Co., Homoeopathic Chemists,"
170, Piccadilly, and 48. Threadneedle Street; Works,
Holland Street, Blackfriars, London.

FRANCIS RAVENSCROFT, Manager.

OW TO PURCHASE A HOUSE FOR TWO
GUINEAS PER MONTH, OR A PLOT OF LAND
FOR FIVE SHILLINGS PER MONTH, with immediate
possession. Apply at the Office of the BIRKBECK FREEHOLD
LAND

SOCIETY.

The BIRKBECK ALMANACK, with full particulars, post
free.
FRANCIS RAVENSCROFT, Manager.

PENNY LIBRARY OF FITION.
ArR
,angements have been made with distinguished Writers for a Series of Penny Stories, to meet the growing popular demand for
cheap, wholesome, and interesting Literature, and thus help to displace some of the noxious Penny Literature in circulation.
ach Story is complete in itself, and consists of 32 pages, demy 8vo, double columns;

with Pictorial Wrapper.

The names of the Writers will be sufficient guarantee as to the character and interest ot these Tales.

tIEW

ouW

yNomeRs

READY.

HE
MUTINY
OF
THE
"HELEN
GREY." By G. MANVILLE FENN.

A

ROUGHT

TO LIGHT.

CONSTABLE

TAUNCH.

By G. MANVILLE FENN.

HREE TIMES TRIED.
OLDEN

FEATHER.

By Mrs. NEWMAN.

A 1.

By B. L. FARJEON.

SLIPPING

RIDDELL,

By G. A. HENTY.

By the Author of" VICTA

VICTRIX."

of

" MEHALAH," &c.

AWAY.

By GRANT

By JESSIE M. E. SAXBY.

THE PLAGUE SHIP.

By the Author

By Mrs.
SAKE.
DICK'S
OR
Author of" GEORGE GEITH," &c.

LIVING
APPARITION.
ALLEN, B.A.

SAVED BY THE SKIN OF HIS TEETH.
By HELEN SHIPTON.
LORD

JOHN.

By G.

MANVILLE FENN.

Volume I.,
containing the above Six Stories, in Paper Boards, 6d.
ONE. By KATHARINE S. MACQUOID.
By CHARLES
THE PENALTY.
AY1NG
GIBBON.
TERRIBLE INHERITANCE. By GRANT
ALLEN.

IN

MARINE
ARMOUR. By G. MANVILLE
FENN.
MY SOLDIER KEEPER. By C. PHILLIPSWOLLEY.
BY TELEGRAPH. By J. MACLAREN COBBAN.

Volume II., containing the above Six Stories, in Paper Boards, 6d
London: 3, Northumberland Avenue, Charing Cross, W.C.;- 43, Queen Victoria St., E.C.;
97, Westbourne Grove. W. Brighton: 135, North St.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A
FATHER CHRISTMAS.

BY THE

REV.

P.

B.

POWER,

M.A.,

Author of " The Oiled Feather," etc.

PUBLISHED

UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE TRACT COMMITTEE.

LONDON:
SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN
NORTHUMBERLAND

AVENUE,

W.C.;

43,

97, WESTBOURNE

BRIGHTON :

NEW YORK:

KNOWLEDGE

QUEEN VICTORIA

GROVE,

STREET,

W.

135, NORTH STREET.

E. & J. B, YOUNG & CO.

E.C.;

The Autobiography of a Father Christmas.
I.

OF THE FAMILY

OF

FATHER

CHRIST-

MASES IN GENERAL, AND OF MYSELF
IN, PARTICULAR.

OU

will observe, good reader-or
good readers, for I am sure, anyhow I hope, there will be many of
you-at the very outset that, these
pages are called the " Autobiography
of A Father Christmas "-that I have
used an indefinite article " a "-that I
have not taken to myself the honour,
and, I may add, the responsibility of
being the only Father Christmas in the
world--a piece of vanity, which the
very geniality of my constitution and
nature would make abhorrent to me.
In one sense we are all one, in
another, we are many; and I profess
to be only one of the many; and the
experiences of all the Father Christmases put together are, in reality, only
the experience of Father Christmas
himself.
But, to pursue this subject would be
to run into metaphysics; and metaphysics are not in my line at all. If
I had ever been at college, I should
have been plucked ; for I am sure not
a feather, or, to speak more correctly,

not a snowflake, would have been left
on me. Instead of waiting to be
plucked by my examiner, I might as
well have plucked myself; and made
the pluckings into a snowball on my
own account, and pitched it at his
head; the only change in the affair
being a slight one, and to my advantage on the whole: viz., that I pitched
into him, instead of his pitching into
me. Though used to severe weather
-and, indeed, considering it seasonable--I do not like to be, what is
commonly called, "left out in the cold;"
and there it is that the metaphysical
gentleman would have left me, without
doubt.
Many great folk have written their
own lives (and, in some cases, they had
much better have let it alone); and as
they have written theirs, I don't see
why I shouldn't write mine; for at a
certain season of the year, at any rate,
I am a great person; which fact, I am
glad to tell you, does not prevent me
from enjoying myself immensely in a
general way.
These autobiographies generally
begin at a man's beginning; though
for myself I don't see how he can know
much on that subject. No doubt,
there are some family traditions aboat

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF

him-and the Family Bible on the
first page gives him a help; and perhaps his nurse may be still alive, and
she can tell him some things-some,
but not all, of which, he considers
suitable for transmission to posterity.
But I labour under tremendous
disadvantages in this way. My beginning seems lost in antiquity.
Others may know my precise origin,
as, for example, those who say I am
the representative of the old Lord of
Misrule, but I confess I myself do
not; so let us put it down as it is in
one or two cases in the Peerage-" the
origin of this title is lost in antiquity "
-which won't matter much, since I
am here myself--so I will begin the
earliest notice of my existence with the
laconic " Here I am," and I am sure
I may add, "And you wouldn't have
me anywhere else."
Well, now I am here, I am going
to tell you the good I have done in
my short life-a short life I say, for
no individual Father Christmas ever
lives long. When we have piaster-ofparis in our constitution we invariably
die of a disease called "Smash; " but
when we are made of papier-mach6 we
survive indeed a little longer; but it is
almost always to endure more or less
suffering; and I grieve to say sometimes
indignity, in what for a Father
Christmas may be called our " old age."
We are liable to affections of the nose
-it gets, in fact, I might almost say,
broken-sometimes a half goes, sometimes the whole. In this department
of its art, surgery is behindhand; our

nasal troubles it can do almost nothing
for.
Our eyes suffer too.
They have
been known to disappear altogether-for all the world as if they had been
gouged out by some mischievous boy's
fingers; and as to our ribs, they
become staved in; and I have seen a
Father Christmas of this kind who
had such a tremendous orifice in that
portion of his person connected with
Christmas pudding that, it seemed as
if he had had a kind of earthquake
there; and now was the time for any
prying doctor, without resorting to
vivisection, to observe how the various
organs of digestion work-a study
particularly interesting to medical men
at Christmas time.
You would hardly think that, the
great law of Compensation, which is
to be found all through Nature, extends
to us, but it does; and speaking in the
capacity of Father Christmas generally,
if I am nowhere during the rest of the
year, I am everywhere almost at
Christmas-time; and there are so
many good things going at Christmas
that, I don't mind being put by in a
cupboard for the restof the year-that
is, of course, assuming that I survive
Christmas at all.
It is with us as it is with mankind
-there are all sorts and conditions
amongst us. There are Father Christmases which, at first sight, appear to
belong to the upper ten; they might be
considered dukes, marquises, or earls,
or at any rate landed gentry of large
means amongst the Christmas family:

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

but that is all only to the outward eye.
We know no such distinctions amongst
ourselves. We look upon these external things as of little moment; it
matters not amongst us, whether one
Father Christmas's beard is a bit
longer, or thicker, or whiter than
another's; or whether he have on him
a few snowflakes more or less. What
we go in for is "Heart "-that is the
very essence of the family likenes-that is what makes us all akin. If
you were to vivisect us, you'd find us
all to be, I might almost say, nothing
but heart within: the wonder is that,
seeing we are so hot within, we don't
melt all the snow that is about us
outside.
I never heard of but one of our
family who was deficient in the matter
of heart. I have heard of there being
shortcomings in one way and another
in different directions, but never but
once in the matter of heart. And in
this case I comfort myself with the
thought that, the creature of whom I
am going to tell you, was not a real
Father Christmas at all-he was a
bogus, an impostor; for aught I know
one of the disreputable family of Guys,
who have been going down much in the
world of late; and I scarcely like to
use the revered name of Father
Christmas in connection with him at
all.
This wretch (excuse the strong
language-but when the feelings are
strong, you cannot wonder if the
words are to match) came into the
world in a way that he should not.

He was bad from beginning to end.
His beginning was bad, and his doings
(which I might call the middle) were
bad, and the end was bad-so I have
the satisfaction of knowing that, he
was bad altogether. I am thus saved
the task of trying to excuse him; my
duty is to condemn.
This spurious Father Christmas
owed his parentage to a wretched boy,
nine and a half years old. This dreadful youth was already the parent of
many domestic miseries--the fact was,
he was bringing them into the world
all the year round; but one would have
thought that, at Christmas-time, at
least he might have ceased from his
evil deeds, and helped on in the
general happiness around.
Not a bit of it. His idea of "seasonableness" was to invent some mischief,
which would work in with the season,
in the most appropriate way possible-at least, appropriately in his
mind; for, as to appropriateness in
reality, there could be no such thing.
This creature's baleful eye fell upon
a lovely Father Christmas in a shop
window as he was coming home from
school, smarting, I am happy to say,
under some external applications,
which had been administered'to him(not by any medical man)-for his
good.
It might be that he was then in a
particularly savage condition-but so
it was that, at the sight of this beautiful
Father Christmas, he determined that
he would have a Father Christmas of
his own; and, moreover, that that

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Father Christmas should keep Christ.
mas-time, in a way altogether out of
the ordinary beat; but also in one
altogether in harmony with itself. The
wretched youth had a baby sister, and
going home, he promised her, with
words as sweet as if his mouth had
been filled with lollipops, or butterscotch, that she should have a Father
Christmas all to herself; and that, she
needn't go to sleep all night, and have
to wait ever so long before he brought
her something. She need only shut
her eyes just for five short minutes,
and then, open them when he told her,
and she should find a stocking full of
all sorts of beautiful things-notably,
what she had been longing for, for a
long time--a wax doll, with real hair,
and with eyes that opened, and shut;
and that said "Ma-ma" when you
gave her a pinch, in the proper place.
Individually, I should have felt more
inclined to have cried out" Oh! oh!"
at this interference with my diaphragm ;
but "Ma-ma" seemed a great point
with the child, and so she agreed with
all that he proposed.
I shudder to think how this pretended Father Christmas was made;
he was as big as a boy of four or five.
The wretch to whom he owed his being
first bought a black mask, and then,
dressed up a body for it with some
black calico; and here and there dabbed on pieces of cotton-wool; out of
this bogus Father Christmas's mouth
he put a great carrot for a tongue;
and he tied two balls of touch-paper
in its hollow eyes. Then, iiside the

OF

hollow body he fixed what boys call a
double-cracker, which bangs off five
or six times like a pistol shot.
"Now, Sissy, you lie down there on
the ground ; brother has made you a
pretty bed four cushions to lie on,
and one for your head. Hang up the
stocking - that's right - leave the
top wide open, for the dolly's very
big--"
very well,
"Will it say 'Ma'
Jack ? "
" Oh, yes, much more than that; 'tis
a new kind that says 'mammy dear.'
There now, mind you don't open your
eyes;" and the faithful little thing
squeezed her eyelids tight together,
and put her hands over them, to make
sure that nothing on her part should
hinder Father Christmas in the outcome of his good-will.
This fearful creature, the odious boy
put at the bottom of the bed, and at
a given signal the poor child looked
up, only to see this dreadful figure,
with its great red tongue, and its eyes
of fire, and to hear the cracker go off;
at which, without more ado, she went
into a fit.
You can imagine what a Christmas
that was for that family; the only
wonder was that, the child did not die
of the fright.
I must say that, though I am fond
of all sorts of innocent fun; and, I
might almost say, preside over such
every year; I detest all practical jokes.
They are often very witless, and they
cause a deal of bad feeling; and anything that causes a;noyance we are

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

bound in charity to abstain from
-I
mean unnecessary annoyance,
which generally accompanies practical
jokes.
This wretched Father Christmaswho would have been quite in his
proper place earlier in the year as a
Guy--came to a worthy end.
He
was partly blown up by the doublecracker; and what was left of him
was pulled to pieces by the poor
child's father, in his just wrath. As
to Jacky himself, though no Christmas
was kept in that home that year,
he never remembered, during his afterlife, having been so warm as he had
been that Christmas. What he got
then, did him a world of good; and
for many a year, seldom did a Christmas come round without its bringing
with it retrospects of a torrid and
tingling character, the equivalents of
which, whatever they might be, he
did not wish to repeat in after life.
As I have spoken of this horrid
figure-a make-believe, in word, at
least, of one of us-I am anxious,
before I give some of my actual life
experiences, to say a word on the
subject of another figure, in no way
connected with us, except that it
sometimes makes its way into our
company, and is particularly active
indoors at the same time that we are,
and that is, "Punch."
I have observed his doings at Christmas parties, where I (still using the
term "Father Christmas" in my
general sense of the term) have been.
There is" much, no doubt, that is

comical about him, but that wifebeating, which does not meet with its
merited reward, is, I believe, a thing
not to be laughed at ; and is productive
of a great deal of mischief. Street
urchins here get their first lessons in
illtreating women, and that, with
impunity-not but that, they very often
get the same sad lessons at home-but
anyhow, though there is one to cry,
and cry sorely at it, there is, at any
rate, seldom anyone to laugh at it.
"Punch'" it might be said, is essentially English; so is wife-beating, too,
varied now and again with something
worse; which, at Christmas-time, at
any rate, I don't care to bring to
the fore. I say that, bringing bad
things before people's eyes, in such
a way as to make them laugh at them,
and not show that they bring their
deserved punishment, tends to make
men inclined to do them; and I take
serious objection to Punch on this
account. It is not that I am what
anyone might call strait-laced, or
sour, or incapable of being amused by
a trifle-not a bit of it; I am rather
given to Fantoccini than otherwise.
Good marionettes are often as amusing
as an amusing picture or boeck; but,
ever since my eyes have been opened
to this view of Punch, I don't care
to have anything to do with him;
and I wish he'd stay at home at Christmas time altogether.
Children must, no doubt, have
something to amuse them.
I once
heard an old minister at a Christmas
party saying that, the children in old

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

OF

Egypt-long before I was thought in this world, and places too, are to
of had their Fantoccini, for the very a great extent what people make
figures with their movable limbs them; and if people look on me as
have been found in their tombs, and being simply in a cupboard, or say
in a place called Etruria, wherever I am "on the shelf," I don't mind
that is. He said they were all over that in the least. I am here in a state
India, China, and the East; but I of honoured leisure; and I prefer
am no antiquarian; indeed, I might occupying it with literature, to being
almost say, no scholar. I do know a idle.
thing or two; but then what I have
Three years have I been out in the
learned is from men, and not from world-for our family have no
books; any outside knowledge I may childhood: we
come into the
have, is just from hearing what people world, and have to play our part
say.
in it, as full-grown Father Christmases all at once. All we have to
do with childhood is to sympathise
II.
with it, and make it happy, and show
IHOW FATtERt CHRISTMAS EXPERIENCES
it kindness all we can-but that " all "
TilE VANITY OF GREAT EXPECTATIONS.

You will understand, good reader, that
I am now an old Father Christmas.
I am in the fourth year of my age;
and that for a Father Christmas is
almost the same as being a Methuselah
amongst men. Very few indeed of us
attain to that age; and if one and
another do, here, and there, it is
so decrepit that it cannot gather its
wits together; and if it has any
memory, it cannot commit to'paper,
at least with any propriety of style,

is our " all "-and a big

"

all

"

it is.

I am, on the whole, in good health;
and, as it is said of many elderly people,
in " good preservation," or " well
preserved."
All preserves, you will
observe, are not jam. Some preserved
old men and women, however, are
very like jam in one respect-they
are so sweet, they are preserved in
sugar; others-well! they are preserved too, but it is in vinegar-they
are pickles. [ propose telling you a
little of my three years' experience
such experiences as it may have had.
in the world. I can't tell you about
Editors now-a-days are no joke ; they the fourth, for it hasn't come yet,
sniff all shortcomings afar off; and and it isn't safe to prophesy; for, it
it is a serious strain upon the nervous has been well said, you should " never
system to come into their presence at prophesy, unless you know."
all.
My first experience in actual life
I am at present residing in what is was not a happy one-but let any
to me an almshouse-a place of one who reads these lines, and who is
honoured retirement in old age. Things downcast at the thoughts of a bad

. A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

beginning, which is not their fault,
take courage. Many an unpropitious
beginning has had a good ending. It
doesn't do to be downhearted: it
takes all the life and pluck out of
one's body, or one's mind, wherever
one's pluck is kept. I am sure when
I began to write this-my Autobiography, I didn't know how I
should get on at all-in fact, I
couldn't get on. I was distrustful
of myself, and afraid of the editor,
and the pen was bad and spluttered,
and there were people playing what
they call "scales" dingling in my
very ears; but I stuck to it, and up
to the present have got on very comfortably-in fact, "Here I am."
Things sometimes turn out better in
the end than one expects. Anyhow,
until the worst comes, don't be moaning, and groaning, as if it had come,
hugging it up in your bosom, as if it
were all you had in the world; and for
all the world couldn't let it go.
I began, as I have said, very badly ;
and this was all the more distressing,
because I never dreamed for a moment
that a Father Christmas could, by any
possibility, ever do badly at all. I
had expected nothing but wholesome
mirth, and pleasure-giving, and general
hilarity. I knew that my mission in
the world was to give happiness, and
the thought of failure never entered
into my head.
From the moment
that I had the finishing touch put to
me, in the form of a large spot of
vermilion on the top of my nose (that
being considered to add to my general

effect), up to the time I left the shopwindow, where I was placed to give me
a chance of being pat out in life, I had
never dreamed of anything but healthy
merriment, and joy.
I did not consider it in the least
beneath my dignity that my life and
energies belonged to little folks-to
children. I enjoyed the thought of
contributing to their happiness in the
happiest times of their lives-and I
anticipated with great pleasure seeing
some, who had once been children,
becoming such for even an hour ,r
two again. If I had my way, I
would cut up all grown people, once a
week, at least, into little pieces, and
make children of them, say for a
Saturday half-holiday. I would make
the Archbishop read a fairy tale,
and believe every word of it; and I
would make the Lord Chancellor play
football, or bo-peep, with his wig; and
all the masters of public schools I
would make whip tops, instead of boys.
If I approved of chuck-farthing, I'd
make the Governor of the Bank of
England play at it for a pell; but as
I don't, I'd make him what boys call
"shell out," and treat every one all
round to a new sixpence, and a bottle
of ginger-pop. Oh! wouldn't I make
every one young again, even for an
hour; and wake up the echoes of olden
days in the empty chambers and corridors of their hearts. No grand
pictures of fictitious value would I hang
there-thousands upon thousands for
what has in it no freshness, and no life
-no classic music would I play there;

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF

but I would make peals of laughter,
and screams, and whistles, and shouts;
and jumble them all together, so that,
Echo would give up the attempt to
copy them, in despair. I would tap
all Old Humanity upon the shoulder,
and say, "Wake up, old chap; and
for an hour be young again." But I
feel getting too sentimental, and the
public don't like sentiment-at least,
not too much-a little cream, it may
be, on the top, but milk in a general
way for puddings and to drink-besides,
there is the editor! Well, from my
very constitution, and the remarks
made on me by the various folk, who
looked in at me in the shop-window,
I was expecting all happiness, when
my first experience came in quite a
different way. Only one individual
had said anything uncomplimentary
against me, and he called me "an old
humbug," but I didn't mind that, for
he was a sinister-looking individualan old lawyer, who hadn't as much
vermilion in the whole of his veins, as
I had on the tip of my nose-and he
had scarcely made this unwarrantable
assertion (for which, indeed, he might
have been had up for libel), when a
portly gentleman, with rather a skinnylooking lady, and a very beautiful child,
came into the shop.
"Miss Slitherwick," said the portly
gentleman, jingling I suppose what
were sovereigns in his pocket-though,
if only you have impudence enough to
do the make-believe, as some do it,
your keys will do as well-" Miss
81itherwick, you know my wishes

generally with regard to my daughter;
and I desire them to be carried out on
the present occasion, and in this place.
You are, I hope, thoroughly 'posted
up' on the subject ?"
Miss Slitherwick, who kept her
situation, only on the condition of
being always posted up in this direction-never in arrears; always, in
fact, striking a balance, and always
bringing out the same result; viz.,
everything for Miss Chutney, and
nothing for any one else-responded
suitably; and Mr. Chutney, after
waving his hand in a significant
manner (thereby, as in a figure, intimating that the whole shop was at
Miss Slitherwick's disposal for Miss
Chutney, though he never told her to
choose some little thing for herself),
took his departure to take the chair at
a meeting, which people who don't
know the world might suppose had a
touch of Christmas expansion of heart
about it, inasmuch .as it was about to
offer for the trifling consideration of
£1 in the form of a share in the Judicious Rain Distributing Company, a
bonus annually of ten shillings and a
dividend of seventy per cent. to the
public generally ; the allotment of the
shares to be guaranteed to be made
pro rata on the applications, and not
even one share to be reserved for the
directors, or their friends. There were
to be no founders' shares, for founders'
shares are rather a big mouthful for the
public to swallow; and, for reasons best
known to the directors, they would in
this Company at least not be required.

Ix

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

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THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF

The present meeting was rather an
anxious one, for the solicitor to the
intended company had started some
awkward questions with reference to
the clouds, as a consenting party-and
there were vested interests and, indeed,
he might say, common law rights in
that direction which could not be

without an horizon; it had in it the
sprightliness of a will-o'-the-wisp, if it
had nothing else; and that sprightliness
has a certain effervescence in it-until
-you are bogged.
There was to be a Christmas-tree
at Mr. Chutney's, and I was to preside
over it. I was supposed to be the
ignored.
beneficent being who, though- my
So off went Mr. Chutney, and snow-flakes would not melt in a temvery addled, I can tell you, he looked perature of 70 degrees, still was so full
when he came home that night. I of warmth internally, that I had to vent
was in his house to see, having been my feelings in that Christmas-tree.
purchased, as you shall presently hear,
I took, accordingly, great interest
by his little daughter Kate-Miss in the purchases which were made.
Slitherwick fully approving, consentFirst of all, I must tell you, I had
ing-" aiding and abetting," as the been bought myself. And at this I was
law says-as, indeed, she daren't do delighted. I was not content with
anything else.
being kept merely in the window, as a
Mr. Chutney, despite all his wealth, decoy to the people passing by; indeed,
was not in what is called "high it vexed me to hear so many saying,
society"; consequently, the juvenile " What a lovely Father Christmas,
party, which his little daughter was don't you wish we could have him ? "
about to give to her young friends, and so forth; that sort of thing went
was composed of middling people; in quite against the grain with me. I
fact, it was made up, for the most part, wanted to be at business; I wanted to
of the children of the people whom he make happiness, and not misery; I
knew in the City-not the aristocracy wanted to give pleasure to people in
of the City, for Mr. Chutney was in- what they had, and not misery for
sufferable to them-but various small what they had not. So I said to
people, highly respectable in their way, myself, "Now, we'll have a grand
who were under obligations to him in one time of it; there's lots of money here,
way or another, and who were only too and so there'll be lots of happiness,"
pleased to have their children rubbing for, at that time I was fool enough to
skirts with Miss Chutney. For, as to believe that, these two always went
that rubbing of skirts, it was a thing together; and I thought that I, being
concerning which no one could tell a costly Ftsthet Christmas, must, from
"what would come of it "-anyhow, my very money's-worth, confer no end
what might come; it was something of joy.
with an infinite perspective, something
As soon as I was bought, I had an

A

FATHER CHRISTMAS.

opportunity of seeing and hearing all
that went on, for it was not worth
while putting me back in the window
again.
I heard, therefore, Miss
Chutney's shopping, her questions, and
Miss Slitherwick's answers thereto.
Miss Slitherwick had the inestimable merit in Mr. Chutney's eyes of
knowing her place; and she rounded
off that merit, and made it complete,
by keeping in it--not only as regards
herself, but also as regards her charge,
which she was to consider as, in fact,
Mr. Chutney himself, only of a different
sex, and not quite so much grown.
All this came out in the purchases
which were made. I was the first
purchase that Kate Chutney made;
and this was something pretty stiff to
begin with; but I was very quickly
followed by others.
These, for the sake of order, and
that the whole might be the more
easily remembered by those, to whom
the remembrance may do good, may
be divided into two classes-such as
Miss Chutney, or, if you can take the
idea, "Mr. Chutney's daughter" made
for herself, and for others; to which
may be added a little supplement, not
worthy of being made into a third
class by itself: viz., a little Christmas
present for Miss Slitherwick.
For herself, Miss Chutney bought a
lovely doll; two guineas went there;

a wonderful doll, and that was enough.
And what was a doll without its
clothes ? The young lady provided
for it in a truly motherly way. She
outfitted it with garments for day and
night, with a horse, and a carriage,
with doll jewellery, and doll pots and
pans, Miss Slitherwick fulfilling her
proper functions by continually saying
"Yes, dear, of course," when her
charge proposed having this, and that.
Then she proceeded to a workbox-not
that she meant to work, for she hated
work in any form-but a new-fashioned
one caught her fancy; and a writingdesk-not that that was much good
either, for the poor ignorant child
could hardly write half-a-dozen words
plainly-and so, on she went merrily,
Miss Slitherwick being, as in duty
bound, a consenting party to all the
extravagance that was going on.
Being thus amply provided for
herself, Miss Chutney proceeded to
think of others. And this she did,
not of her own mental, or heart outcoming, but by reason of a commission
from her father, who told her that,
there were some children coming on
Christmas night; and that, there was
to be a tree for them. "They aren't
anything very particular, my dear," he
said; "they are just the children of
some of the people I know in the City;
and you can buy just what you like for

it walked, and so far as " Ma, ma'"

them."

went, it talked; it opened its eyes and
shut them; and but for the impropriety of the thing, it might have
winked for aught I know; but it was

Now, to some children, the ".just
what you like" would have been a
carte blanche to do wonderful things.
Their little hearts would have swelled

TIE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

with the conscious power of making
others happy, and with the desire to
do it; they would have been delighted
at the thought of being able to be the
" Lady .Jountiful," and to share their
own
piness with others; but poor
little ate had never been taught such
things; she had never seen any
examples of them before her eyes;
they had no part in the surroundings of
her daily life; and so, there was, what
I must call a very niggardly provision
indeed made for the Christmas-tree.
As I was to preside over that Christmastree, and was theoretically, at any
rate, supposed to have been the provider of it, I was indignant, and longed
to say to the shopkeeper : "Here, put
in this, and that;" but what can a
Father Christmas do, when his own
big heart is not met with bigness of
heart in others? it would be a relief to
him if, in some way or other, he could
blow up-or blow out, if you like; but
he can't explode any way; he must,
just like many a human being, keep
his feelings to himself; and very uncomfortable, I can tell you, they sometimes make him.
Miss Slitherwick was not forgotten.
Her young charge presented her with
a scent-bottle with a German-silver
head, the net cost of which was
2s. 33d. Of course, it wasn't silver as
regards its head, nor cut-glass as
regards its body, but it was a smellingbottle, and a present, and a Christmas
present; and that was enough for the
one by whom it was given.
Poor Miss Slitherwick ! She already

OF

had a smelling-bottle at home; but it
was her place to take what she was
given, and to make no remarks. That
smelling-bottle of Miss Slitherwick's!
it had not even a German-silver top;
it was quite plain, and made no pretensions to be cut-glass; it had only
costeightpence the first day; but to her,
it was worth its weight in gold; for it
had come from a little creature now
lying under the sod, who had a little
heart inside his little body when it
was here-it had come from a little
Slitherwick, who, somehow or other,
had got something of heaven inside
him; and who, because of that " something " had gone without lollipops for a
whole year to buy his sister that
smelling-bottle, as a Christmas-box.
Miss Slitherwick, you should not have
remembered this when you received
another smelling-bottle, under somewhat different circumstances indeed,
but with a real German-silver head.
You should have compared the two
bottles, and not the two people by
whom they were given; the two
bottles, I say, and their prices (only
think of the difference between
2s. 34d. and 8d.), and not the heart
feelings from which they came.
Miss Slitherwick, though I don't
entertain the opinion myself, nevertheless it is entertained, and acted upon
too, that, there are some people so
situated in the world that, they have
no business with hearts-hearts are
an encumbrance to them; they might
go even still farther: they might
become a nuisance.
Hearts have

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

been known to keep people from getting
on in the world. When too heavy a
strain has been put on them-the
worthless brittle things have been
known to break-hearts, when they
get into mathematics, and metaphysics,
and machinery, are like chips in
porridge: they make everything go
wrong. Some people hold that, the
world would get on much better without
hearts, at all. Aren't even the doctors
continually plagued with them-they
wouldn't mind if people had two or
three livers, and half a dozen pairs of
lungs, if only they'd dispense with
hearts, and the incurable and obscure
diseases incidental thereto.
Well, let us be getting on. Dear
good Miss Slitherwick was utterly
ashamed of the provision made for the
Christmas-tree, over which I was to
preside, and out of her own slender
pocket did her very best to put the
best face on matters that she could.
She bought walnuts, and gilt them
over, so that the tree looked laden
with untold wealth-if Miss S. had
robbed the Bank of England, or had
shares in the Twenty-two Carat Solid
Gold Rock Company, Limited, that
tree would not have been unworthy of
her. Moreover, she, so to speak,
plated some other nuts with silver
leaf; on the score of which the above
remarks might be repeated, only substituting silver for gold. Moreover, she
did wonderful things with twiddlings
up of ribbon, and coloured paper, and
some cheap coloured lamps; and if
only that tree were looked at from a

little distance it would have passed
muster well enough.
But the mischief was that, whereas
"distance lends enchantment to the
view," in daily life things will keep
coming up close to us, and if they do,
we have continually to come up close
to things; and then, the enchantment
goes-I'm sure I can't tell you where.
So it was when Mr. Chutney's Christmas party came. All the little people
had come duly impressed with the importance of the occasion, and the responsibility and privilege of being
sharers in Miss Chutney's Christmastree; and that, if ever they had been
on their good behaviour, their very
best had been miserable shortcoming
compared with what was expected of
them now.
And all might have
gone well-at least, what the Chutney
family would have called "well," but
not what the Father Christmas with a
large heart, and Felicia Slitherwick,
with a large heart, would have called
" well," had it not been that, amongst
the party was a boy of the name of
Stumps--a boy whom Nature had
forgotten to round off in any way,
when she sent him into the worldtrusting, it may be, to the experiences
of life to chip off his rough edges; or
to its bitter waters to rub him down
smooth, as the waters wear the stones.
Stumps and his sister were of the
party, and Stumps and she had both
come in anything but a chastened and
respectful frame of mind, for their old
uncle had "fixed up," as the
Americans say, a grand tree for them

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF

at home, with no end of real good
things upon it, which they had got a
look at on the sly, though the good
uncle knew nothing about that.
Stumps was a kind of boy that would
have called the Lord Mayor, even in
his robes, "Old chap," or "Old cock;"
and would have squared out even at
the mace itself. When I tell you
this, I have exhausted my descriptive
powers; what kind of a boy he was,
and what he could do, you must judge
for yourself.
A part of the evening's entertainment consisted in Miss Chutney's
showing her young guests her Christmas presents: being those, of which the
reader has already heard; and some
others in addition, which her father
had given her as a surprise.
All wondered, all admired, all
speculated as to how, if they were Miss
Chutney, they should feel that night.
All but the unreverential Stumps-he was unsophisticated enough to
think that he'd rather be " Stumps "
than anyone else-and he'd back his
sister Chatty against a dozen palefaced Chutneys any day-" Chatty
against Chutney any day, and ten to
one on the favourite: the other
nowhere "-that was the form the
matter took in Master Stumps' mind.
Now this boy Stumps, who had
always an eye to the main chance,
had absented himself from the little
side room where Miss Chutney's
Christmas presents were being displayed, and taken the opportunity of
every one's absence to make a minute

inspection of the Christmas-tree. The
motive was interested, for he wanted
to see what there was there that
would suit himself; and for what
he should swop what he got, if it did
not suit him; and the result of this
investigation was very unsatisfactory.
He mentally compared Mr. Chutney's
tree with the one fixed up by his
American uncle at home; and then,
sauntered in to look at Miss Chutney's
spread.
Stumps was a boy of quick apprehension, and quick feelings-he was
quick every way, except in going to
school; but he made up with the
cause of education generally, by thus
supplying the exception that proved
the rule, and being quick all over--he
was quick in action too.
"I say, Chat," said this boy Stumps,
pinching his sister's arm, " here's an
awful shame ! all the good things are
on this table, and none on the tree.
I'm blessed if I don't blow up the
whole affair-we don't want their
rubbishing things; there are ever so
much better on our own tree for tomorrow night; and we're kept out of
them a whole night by having to
I saw a rubbishing
come here.
shilling knife, that I suppose is for me
and I know it wouldn't cut butter;
but there's a regular seven-and-sixpenny one on the tree at home that,
would shave a mouse asleep, or cut off
your nose without your even knowing
'twas gone. You wouldn't know your
nose was gone, Chat, until you looked
in the glass, which of course you,

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A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

being a girl, would never do; and
even if you did, you'd have to have
someone to tell you about it thenyou'll see !"
When Kate Chutney had exhibited
herself, and her presents, to her heart's
content, the proceedings of the Christmas-tree began. As for me, I ought
at that moment to have been full of
delight-quite in my element over the
fun; but, on the other hand, I was
It required a
full of forebodings.
great effort of self-recollection to
make me feel that, I was a Father
Christmas at all; I felt sure that
there was trouble ahead, and within
measurable distance, too.
All went tolerably well, although I
could see that the young people were
not particularly enchanted with their
gifts. Miss Slitherwick managed to
pass that off' pretty well, until we
came to that fatal knife, which, sure
enough, fell to that dreadful Stumps.
Oh, Stumps, that you had been a
girl-or anything else but what you
were !-Oh that you had only put that
knife in your pocket and said nothing
about it there, but anything you liked
about it when you got home. But
no!
You cried out, "Look here,
Chat, here's an old saw that cost
sixpence. Let it go back to where it
came from;" and you flung it into
the Christmas-tree again. Then followed a fearful catastrophe; a Chinese
lantern, struck by the knife, was
upset and took fire; then up blazed
poor Miss Slitherwick's paper arrangements-the whole thing was upset, and

came to grief. Miss Chutoey's hands
and face were, to say the least of it,
pretty smartly singed; the party had
to be broken up; and I was left to my
meditations, to spend the rest of the
evening as best I might.
My meditations were, as you may
well imagine, not of an hilarious
character; indeed, I felt myself
almost like a naughty boy in disgrace,
and I spent much of the succeeding
year in pondering on the miserable
effects of selfishness, and in what
curious ways its punishment is worked
out, at times; and I could not but
think, how entirely my owner had
been mistaken in her ideas of what
Christmas-time should be; and I
wondered whether there were many
like her, and whether many Christmases are spoiled.
III.
HOW I SPENT MY SECONI) CHRIS IMAS.

Tiir year wore on, and as it neared
its end, and Christmas began to draw
nigh again, I wondered what was to
become of me.
Was I going to
remain "oil the shelf "-a position
which so many dread when hilarity is
going on, though it is sometimes much
better to be peacefully and quietly on
the shelf, than to be knocked about,
and cracked, and maybe smashed,
elsewhere? No; there was something better in store for me than that.
Who should let daylight in on me one
day but good Miss Slitherwick.
" Father Christmas," said she, "you

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

are not to be blamed for what happened
last Christmas Day. Still, you'll have
to go; for Miss Chutney has been so
nervous ever since that fatal night,
that, there can be no Christmas keeping here this year, at any rate; and
Mr. Chutney says you had better
clear out. I asked him what I was
to do with you, and he said, 'Anything I liked.' I am anxious that
you should have a good home, and
some amends made to you for having
your Christmas spoiled; so I have
given you to a friend of mine, who
has come down in the world-as,
indeed, for the matter of that, so have
I done myself. But I have learned
this: that, there are many beautiful
flowers growing in lowly places, and
many sparkling streams running
through them, so don't be downhearted; and you would not be a
'Father Christmas,' unless you were
ready to condescend to men of low
estate."
Where do you think, good reader,
I found myself, four-and-twenty hours
after this kind little speech? (And
these few kindly words, let me tell
you in passing, had their effect, as all
such have; they made me go forth
ready for anything, with a heart for
any fate, so as only I could make
people happy.)
Where ? why at Miss Slitherwick's
own uncle's. Now I could understand
why there were some tears in her
eyes last Christmas Day; now, why
she was so earnest in her wish that
I should make the people happy with

OF

whom I was to spend the coming
Christmas Day.
She would have
wished me to make anybody, and everybody, happy; but, as was most natural,
especially her own flesh and blood.
The house to which I was conveyed
was an humble one in the outskirts.
It had never been amansion-reduced
in its old age to letting apartments; it
had always been a self-contained,
perky little house, one that boasted
that it had never passed the three
years by a single day in which it
should be painted outside, nor by one
day the seventh year in which it must
be thoroughly done up within.
Here lived Mr. James Upton, the
only brother of Miss Slitherwick's
mother, hereafter to be known under
the name, style, and title of "Uncle."
Here lived Mr. Upton and his only
daughter Bessy; and, so frequently did
he call to tea, and make himself
generally at home, that here I might
also say lived Mr. Geoffrey Pigment
-a young and very rising artist in
the portrait line, who had painted
Bessy in six different attitudes, and
was now engaged on the seventh,
which promised to be a great success.
Painted Bessies were very nice, but
a substantial Bessy is nicer ; and when
the question came to be between what
is nice and what is nicer, common
sense really left no choice, in Mr.
Geoffrey Pigment's mind, but settled
the matter at once.
"Well, Bessy, what kind of a
Christmas are we going to have ?"
asked Geoffrey Pigment.

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF

" but
only
one
"Why did you say 'we,' Geoff? sentimentally,
You know how father is; he'll never duck."
' Now be off," said Bessy Upton,
be able to get beyond the armchair,
and perhaps I shall not be able to get " and tell the Pentwhistles you'll be
him even into that; and that would with them."
be but a dull Christmas for you. You
" Now, Bessy, look here," said the
had better far go to the Pentwhistles young man, "you say my heart will
-there will be a merry party there. be here. Well, in a general way, I
I know your heart will be with me, like to be where my heart is: 'tis
all the same."
more convenient, to say the least of
you're not afraid of Mary it; so here I Christmas with you, my
"And
Pentwhistle, Bessy, though that scamp dear; and we'll get up a Christmas for
Crimple who is after her says that, she the governor upstairs-or downstairs,
has driven two men to commit suicide, if we can get him down-and when
and sent three into asylums, and a he's settled for the night, we'll settle
callow youth into a duck-pond, who when 'tis to be. The last two pictures
was pulled out very wet indeed. I will pay for the furniture for a bigger
hear he says he never knew what ducks house; and, I think, my foot's well on
lived on before, nor what duckweed the ladder now,"
"Well, if you will come," said
tasted like, but that there is an awful
lot in that pond ; and that, duckweed, Bessy, "I might as well tell youany how, unless 'tis cooked, has a very you'll have company."
nasty taste."
"'No," said the young man,
"Pish ! " said Bessy; "he wants vehemently, "that's the very thing I
to make himself out a fine fellow him- don't want; you know the old saying,
self, when Mary takes him, as I know 'Two is company, but three is none'
she intends to do. You may dance -at least, none to some people-not
with Mary all the evening if you like, to me anyhow, Bessy, when I'm with
and I know what will happen. She'll you. Man, or woman, Bessy; which
come here next day, and say, ' Bessy, is it ? though neither's welcome."
"Man-and I want you to fetch
that's a nice young man of yours; do
you mind changing him for Bob him too. Now, there's a goody--just
Crimple?' Perhaps she'll offer me wait-don't go off in a tantrum,
that pearl brooch of her grandmother's Geoff; he's a very old man."
"He's none the better for that,"
to boot. You go to the Pentwhistles;
only do not spoil poor Crimple's said Geoffrey Pigment.
"Well, you men are dreadfully imChristmas, for he's true to Mary; and
remember, there are more duck-ponds patient. I don't know how the world
in the world than one."
would get on, if women were like
said Geoffrey you-'tis only a 'Father Christmas.'
" Many ponds,"

A

FATHER CHRISTMAS.

Aunt Slitherwick wants some one to
fetch him; and I want you to go and
get him, there's a dear."
If women have to say, "love,
honour, and obey " when they're
married, men have to do the last, at
any rate, whether they say it or not,
before they're married; and Mr.
Geoffrey Pigment was no exception to
Bessy Upton had no
the rule.
servants to send about on such errands,
but Geoffrey was her humble servant
for everything; and, he actually came
himself, and fetched me. He waited
until 'twas dark, and then arrived at
Mr. Chutney's with his coat collar
turned up, and his hat slouched down
over his eyes. I was waiting for him,
ready done up in the hall; and off we
went to the fair Bessy's little home.
I had a grand Christmas of it there
-it was all very quiet, compared to
the previous Christmas; but I had
then the pleasure of performing my
life mission for the first time, though
if
I felt I was eq al,,: opportunity
offered, to doing much more.
But, you must know, good reader,
that it is a cardinal point wit.h the
Father Christmas family to do what
they can; and not to lose all their
opportunities in wishing that they
could do more.
Old Mr. Upton was now a child;
trouble had put him back, I am afraid
to say how many years; but trouble
had not restored him the mother on
whose heart he might have laid his
whitened head-the golden glint of
youth changed into the hoar frost and

the snows of age. The world would
be only half as full of sorrows, if it
were twice as full of mothers. Old
John Upton had lost all his money,
and with it most of his hairs; and
Bessy was a good daughter and a good
nurse to him-but a mother-no;
how could she be ? Wives are grand,
but there is a touch ineffable about
the mother, which my pen shall most
honour, by not making any attempt to
give.
Back in old childhood, Christmas
was well within the old man's thoughts;
and present in gone-by manhood was
his great money loss. The A 1 ship
Eldorado had gone down, and with it
the venture of all he had. Those two
ideas were distinct enough, and out of
them was the old man's Christmas
made. For, you see, Love was at
work; and Love is quick at finding
out many inventions.
"I have it," burst out Geoffrey
Pigment: "he shall have a jolly
Christmas this year-that he shall;
he is but a child, Bessy," said the
young man in a low and tender voice :
" a child with a big sorrow; that's an
out-of-the-way thing, and there will
be no harm in dealing with it in an
out-of-the-way manner. Let us make
a Christmas for him-you and I can
make Christmas for each other. See
here, Bessy; I've been telling him
that Christmas time is coming quite
close, and he's been saying, ' Ah, yes;
Christmas-that's the time when the
people sing "Peace, good will," and
there are lots of presents going, and a

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

stocking, and a Father Christmas-he
brings little people what they want,
doesn't he ? I wonder now if I put out
a stocking for him, if he'd give me
what I want ? I like sponge-cakes,
and almond comfits, and squibe. Once
Father Christmas brought me a pegtop, but he forgot the string.'"
" Hang out the stocking to-morrow
night, sir," said the young man. "I
shouldn't be a bit surprised if Father
Christmas came this way; indeed I
know he was seen in the street to-day."
" Yes, we'll put it up," said the old
man, " and I'll sleep like a top, for he
may not come, if he knows that I'm
awake."
"Now, we'll fill the stocking for
him, dear old fellow, and we'll do
something more. He said to me, 'But
what about the money-will Father
Christmas bring back all the money ? I
wonder if he knows where the Eldorado
is ?' and I've told him, 'Who knows ?
Father Christmas sometimes does very
wonderful things.' "
"Can you get him down, Bessy,
into his chair, to eat his Christmas
dinner with us; and then we'll have
in Father Christmas. I know where
I can get a lot of new farthings, as
bright as sovereigns; you wouldn't
know them from sovereigns by lamplight; you make a bag, and we'll fill
it with them, and sling it over Father
Christmas's shoulder; and I'd bet ten
to one-if ever I bet at all-that he'll
think that he has got back all his
money from the Eldorado-andhe will
have a jolly Christmas of it."

OF

That Christmas Eve the stocking
was hung out; that Christmas morning all the delight of a child abounded
in that old man's room, and heart.
There is happiness in being thrown
forward in time, and there is happiness
in being thrown back-provided only
you go far enough, far enough either
way-back to the time ere sorrow
came-on to the time when sorrow will
he no more.
I came out grandly after dinner.
As the young man thought it would
be, so it was; the old man gave a
scream of delight when he emptied
out the bag which I had upon my
back, but in a moment he became
quite composed. "Susan," said he,
addressing his dead wife, "the Eldorado has come in; and here, my dear,
is all the money for you. I only
wanted it for you; let's count how
And that Christmas
much it is."
night was spent by the old man in
counting out the money, putting it in
little heaps, and sending it to the bank,
and various performances of the same
kind.
And he was so well employed, there
was no need of Bessy's and Geoffrey's
taking special care of him; they gave
an eye to him generally, and entertained each other as best they could.
I was glad to see they got through
the evening very well: indeed, Mr.
Pigment wanted to make out that the
clock was an hour fast when it struck
ten; and it was time for him to go
home. He looked at his watch, but
that was ten, too; but he felt sure that

A FATHER CHRISTMAS,

that also must be fast, and he could
only account for it by supposing that
watches and clocks were subject to
epidemics, and that just then there was
one abroad of going fast.
It was a quiet Christmas evening:
that I grant; but I felt that my life
had not thus far been mis-spent; to
minister even to one afflicted one was
a mission. I had fulfilled the mission
which that Christmas-time had been
entrusted to me, and I was happy-and
all will be happy who do the like.

the skull (requiring trepanning), compound ditto of the thigh, dislocation of
the shoulder, fearful abrasions of the
facial skin, broken nose, and general
shock to the system. These will give
some idea of what I suffered; of
course, my mission at poor Mr. Upton's
was ended; and I had to go -but
whither ? I must tell everythingto the rag-and-bone shop. I fetched
three-halfpence sterling; and, to all
human appearance, my mission in life
was ended. But with me before him
for an example, let no one despair;
like the Phoenix, I rose from the ashes
IV.
with fresh vigour; and what became
of me, and what I did in the last year
SIOWS HOW FATHER CHRISTMAS DEof my existence, I shall now proceed to
SCENDED IN THE SOCIAL SCALE, YET
tell.
CONTINUED HIMSELF FOR ALL THAT.
What the rag-and-bone man meant
As the cruel editor has made me pro- to do with me eventually I do not
mise to condense myself-an opera- know; I shudder to think I might have
tion as necessary in ink as in steam-been bought to be made a scarecrow of;
I must content myself with telling you and anything in the scaring way would
that, I came into my present home have been, as you may well imagine,
through an accident. I am not writ- quite out of my line; but whatever I
ing of a home for incurables, or a may come to hereafter, I was not deshospital-convalescent, or otherwise. tined as yet to come quite so low as
I am the honoured inmate of a poor this. On the contrary, I was to take
man's house ; and, I don't mind in the quite a new start in life, on a lower
least, if I continue here, until I go off plane indeed, as regards worldly posithe scene altogether ; for a jollier time tion and grandeur; but on one, in
I can't conceive anyone's having than which I really lived more than I had
I had when Christmas came round.
ever lived before, and enjoyed myself
A careless little child at Mr. Upton's to my heart's content.
let me fall-or rather, knocked me
Hard by the rag-and-bone shop
down ; and, to put it as shortly as pos- there lived a poor working glazier
sible, almost knocked me into what an and painter, by name Jonathan
Irishman would call "smithereens."
Nopps. He was a man with a big
Shock to the spinal cord, fracture of heart like myself, and though his

THE A UTOBIOGRAPHY

means were small, his aims were
large; they embraced no less than the
happiness of the whole human race,
if only by any means he could bring
it about. Finding it impossible with
his limited means to secure the felicity
of the whole of mankind-partly, because he couldn't get at them; and
partly, because they would not have
minded him if he could-he took up
the idea that, the best thing he could
do, would be to try and make as many
as were within his reach as happy
as he could. He took, in one respect,
a trade view of humanity-not the
common one, as to how much could be
got out of mankind, but of how much
could be done for them. He believed
that they had infinite capacities for
being painted, and varnished and puttied; that they had innumerable cracks
which could be filled up, and that,
they need by no means present at all
times such a dilapidated appearance
as they often did.
The moment he saw me at his
friend's-the rag-and-bone man, he
pounced upon me. An inspiration
shot through his brain that, he would
give a Christmas party; and that, I
should be the chief feature of it. He
bought me accordingly for sixpencethat itself was a rise of 400 per cent.
upon my recent value; andwas, therefore, to be taken as an omen of good
things to come.
I am afraid to say what I went
through in the way of operations.
My new owner might have walked
all the London hospitals, and carried

OF

off all the prizes,: so skilfully did he
put my poor maligled form together
again. Glue was liberally administered as a general strengthener of
the constitution, as well as a powerful
local application: "Pig. Ver.," "Pig.
Alb.," "Pig. Chrom.," and Pigs. of
various tints, were judiciously applied
here and there, as the case required.
There were also partial, snow-like
applications, of cotton-wool. Special
attention was given to the nose, as
the most prominent feature of the
face-in fact, between ourselves, a
new one of putty was stuck on. Pig.
Verm. was liberally applied to the
top of it; then came some varnish,
to make me beam as if I were in the
most exuberant health. Being well
stuffed inside---which I could not but
think was eminently suitable for
Christmas-time-I was ready by
the all-important evening when Mr.
Jonathan Nopps' party came off.
It was a kind of New Testament
party-at least, so far as the spirit
of it went-for there was one halt,
and one maimed, and one blind child
there; besides several who were all
the same, only morally; and not
one of them could have recompensed
Mr. Nopps to the value, I might
almost say, of the putty on my
nose.
These were all entertained by the
good man in question, having had, not
only the pleasure of the Christmas
night, but also the delight of looking
forward to the treat for a whole week
beforehand, and the pleasure of look-

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

g2

'THf AUTOBIOGRAPHY

ing back upon it, for a whole week
afterward.
On that occasion, I distributed in, I
might almost call reckless fashion,
considering the circumstances, buns,
oranges, apples, and tea, and gingerpop. Shall I say squandered ? no, I
will not say I squandered the savings
of Mr. Jonathan Nopps for quite
three months beforehand; but I laid
them out, and the company certainly
took them in. That Christmas night
was an enormous festivity. Under
the genial influence of two highly
odoriferous paraffin lamps, I shone
like a star of the first magnitude.
Not a drop of my varnish failed to
do its duty; I far outdid even my own
most sanguine expectations.
I was privileged also to be not only
a means of enjoyment, but therein to
be a very engine of power. I actually
humanised, or helped to humanise,
some of those young Arabs, who felt
softened in heart at the kindness shown
to them through me. Somebody cared
for them, even if it was only Mr. Nopps.
Only Mr. Nopps!
Strike out the
What were other
word "only."
people to them? what had other
people ever done for them ? Mr. N.
was not to be compared with other
people, and that, evidently to his disparagement, by its being said "only
Mr. Nopps." Mr. N. cared for them;
Mr. N. was the one object that filled
their minds; he was the one they
knew-the one who had provided a
Father Christmas for them. Mr.
Nopps and I hooked on some of those

OP

wild creatures to humanity again that
night, and, if we have our due, we
shall both of us have a statue on the
Thames Embankment some day. I
am told Westminster Abbey is full,
and we are not quite military enough
for St. Paul's. If the Embankment
is full before we are ready for it,
Cleopatra's Needle must go: that's all.
One little instance I may give you
of my power--I may say my victorious
power-that night. And talking of
victory, it may nQt be out of place to
turn my attention to St. Paul's, after
all. I don't see why Mr. Nopps and
I, having fought all the powers of evil
in those troops of Satan, and gained a
victory, should not go down into the
crypt with Wellington, and Nelson
especially.
He said, "England expects that every man will do his duty,"
and we did ours. However, let that
be, for the present.
The instance to which I refer is
this. At Mr. Nopps' party was a little
girl, who was quite lame. She was a
pretty little girl, but very helpless.
Her name was Susan-Susan Pike.
Poor little Susie: she could not get
near me, like the rest of the children ;
and when they crowded round me, she
got pushed about, and had to retire to
the outmost edge of the ring. But the
humanities, which seldom had much
place in John Boulder's heart, took
possession of it now, and putting his
big strong arms under Susan's little
spare body, he lifted her up and held
her in them; so that she got the best
view of every one there. My word,

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

how she did admire me! I never
knew how handsome I was, until then,
nor did I ever know the great advantage and privilege of having a vermilion spot upon one's nose. I am
convinced that one should be of an
humble mind, to enjoy with any degree
of safety such privilege as that.
The humanities stuck to Jack
Boulder ever since that night. He
then got the first idea of the blessedness of being tender; and, from that
Christmas night, Jack adopted certain
Christian ways.
But he had only some months under
Poor
poor little Susie's influence.
child! her disease was not only in
her leg, but in her body; it was in her
leg because it was in her body.
She was to spend no more Christmases on earth-during the autumn
she got worse and worse. You never
heard, I dare say, of a Father Christmas ministering at a sick bed-and I
pride myself upon being unique in
this way-but I did.
Poor little Susie's chief happiness
was associated with me; and she
begged to have me put up opposite
her bed, to keep her company. I was
willingly lent for this purpose by Mr.
Nopps; and many a time I lay by her
side all night, with her thin little arm
round my flowing white beard.
Poor little Susie had little in this
world to love-and even around mepapier-mache though I was, her little
heart began to cling. To her, however, I was a person. She thought I
must be very kind to be associated

always with so many good things.
Some wiser flk, as the world would
call them, might have criticised the
vermilion of my nose; or, perhaps, taken
exception to its material-being putty;
but happier far than they, this poor
child took me in my symbolic aspect,
and I was an embodiment to her of
kindness and love.
Well, thought I, there must be a
deal of yearning for love in the
human heart, when this poor child
fixes itself on something the moment
it has a chance. Isn't it a pity that
more chances aren't given by some
who have something really to give to
their poor fellow-creatures!
There
are long straggling creepers trailing
in the gutter all the world over,
waiting for something to cling to,
and rise up upon; and-and what?
-blossom, and gladden with colour,
and with scent. Perhaps, good reader,
some one would cling to you-forbid
it not-you would not, if you could
experience what I, only a papiermach6 Father Christmas, feel to-day,
from having allowed that poor child
to cling to me.
She wanted to be buried with me;
but the minister's wife, who often
visited her, though she considered this
complimentary, so far as I was concerned, did not consider it suitable;
and she gave her a beautiful wax doll
all dressed in white-which the poor
child said must be an angel, and it
would be very nice to have an angel
with her in her grave.
But, even for the beautiful doll, the

28

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF

A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

Jonathan had lived this Christmas
day not for himself alone, and the day
followed him into the night. It came
again to him on his pillow-it seemed
loth to depart. Happiness-giving is
happiness-getting ; and I, Father
Christmas, now that all the bustle was
over, enjoyed a quiet time with my
owner, I suppose I must call him; but
only "owner" so as also to be " fellowworker" and "friend."
As Mr. Nopps owned only a single
room, I had, of course, now that the
festivities were over, to abide there
with him; and so it came to pass that,
I heard him talking to himself as he
lay awake awhile.
He lay awake from very happiness.
"Who am I," said Mr. Nopps, " teat
I should be privileged to scatter so
ever."
I don't suppose that a happier head much happiness around ?--who am I
was laid upon the pillow that Christ- that I should be able to do so much
mas night than Mr. Jonathan Nopps'. with so little ? but it is the increase of
It was not a very learned head, a very good seed sown. The good Lord
simple problem in mathematics would gives big harvests to little grains.
have puzzled it; Greek and Latin it What is man that he should be like
had none-in history and art it was God-that he should be allowed to be
nowhere. It knew a few plain things like God in doing good!
I'm all
out of an old-fashioned book called the aglow," said Jonathan, "as if I had
Bible; and like many a wiser head fifty Christmas fires burning inside.
than his own, many a thing in that I am satisfied, as if I had had the
did Jonathan Nopps not understand. richest dainties at fifty rich men's
Nor was there any need that be Christmas tables. I am rich as if I
should. Just as Jonathan did not had stripped their Christmas-trees of
understand all the mysteries of the all their gifts-who am I that all this
very bread he ate, but he did eat it, should be given to me, and withal a
and it did him good; so he under- blessing in the Promised Land to
stood not all, either of doctrine, or come ? "-And it was with much ado
precept, but he practised what he that, from sheer overmuch of happiness, the good man could get to sleep.
knew, and verily it did him good.

child did not entirely give me up.
She thought that all that was the
matter with me was my dress, and she
used to talk to me, and say, " Father
Christmas-you dear old Father
I'll make you some
Christmas!
beautiful white clothes some day, and
then you'll be fit to go to heaven:
I'm sure you wvill, for you're very
kind and good; and I'll go to school
and learn to sew, and I'll earn money
enough to buy some white silk, and
you'll look beautiful-that you will.
If anybody wants to know who you
are, I'll tell them you're somebody
that liked to make poor children
happy; and then, they'll be all glad
to see you; and they'll hug you and
kiss you, and love you for ever and

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FATHER CHRISTMAS.

but He is the great Father here as
well as there, now as well as then,
and He allows His children ere they
hunger and thirst no more, to pluck
the little ears of corn, and to drink of
the little brooks by the way.
Many books are written about these
things. I hope they will admit inte
their company, as one earnestly desiring to teach, as well as to amuse,
the pages which, kind reader, you
have just read-

I only know of things at this side of
the grave, but sometimes I wonder
what kind is the Christmas-keeping at
the other. I'm told 'tis all happiness
there, and that all tears are wiped
away from the eyes. Here I see that
there are but snatches of joy, but they
say that, there will be fulness of joy.
Here there are pleasures, but they are
only for awhile; but I am told that
there they will be "for evermore."
The great Father's children will be
grown up then; and they will not
want many a thing they need now,

-

" THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FATHER
CHRISTMAS."

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