late years he had resided almost entirely with the Squire, to whom he
had become a factotum, and whom he particularly delighted by jumping
with his humour in respect to old times, and by having a scrap of an
old song to suit every occasion. We had presently a specimen of his last
mentioned talent; for no sooner was supper removed, and spiced wines and
other beverages peculiar to the season introduced, than Master Simon
was called on for a good old Christmas song. He bethought himself for a
moment, and then, with a sparkle of the eye, and a voice that was by no
means bad, excepting that it ran occasionally into a falsetto, like the
notes of a split reed, he quavered forth a quaint old ditty:

"Now Christmas is come,
Let us beat up the drum,
And call all our neighbours together;
And when they appear,
Let us make them such cheer
As will keep out the wind and the weather,"
etc.

The supper had disposed every one to gaiety, and an old harper was
summoned from the servants' hall, where he had been strumming all the
evening, and to all appearance comforting himself with some of the
Squire's home-brewed. He was a kind of hanger-on, I was told, of the
establishment, and though ostensibly a resident of the village, was
oftener to be found in the Squire's kitchen than his own home, the old
gentleman being fond of the sound of "harp in hall."

The dance, like most dances after supper, was a merry one; some of the
older folks joined in it, and the Squire himself figured down several
couples with a partner with whom he affirmed he had danced at every