LOUIS ALEXANDER ROBERTSON,
in _Cloistral Strains._



DECEMBER 27.


MEMORIES.

I watched the dying embers, my vision blurred apace--
I trod once more that hallowed ground, of kith, of kin, of race.
I saw again the turf-fire send its living flame on high,
Saw youthful figures grouped around the Yule board, laden, nigh.

The latch went up, the neighbors came and instantly good cheer
Went 'round the festive gathering 'till the Christ-child hour drew near,
The piper played, the dance began, and child and parent fond
Tripped back and forth, tripped high and low, with smile of loving bond.

ELLEN DWYER DONOVAN,
in _The Christinas Card._



DECEMBER 28.


MOUNT SHASTA.