enlistment are up; they will be glad to return to their own countries and be loyal to their own government.

The soldiers divided in the centre and filed back so as to leave an open space down the middle of the nave. Soon a band of music marched in playing "Hail Columbia." These were followed by pioneers with their bearskin caps, white leather aprons, and battleaxes on their shoulders. Then came the priests of the high orders; first, those dressed in black; then those in scarlet; then those in purple with white fur capes; then those in light colors decked with silver and gold. Among these were some bearing large crowns thickly set with the most precious jewels; then came the cardinals. The marked one among them was Antonelli, the brains and engineer of the Papal Realm, walking along carelessly, his countenance seeming to say, "this is a magnificent affair but I don't believe anything in it."

After the cardinals came the Pope, sitting in his palaquin covered with velvet and gold, and fanned by peacock's tails, being borne on the shoulders of some dozen ecclesiastics. Behind the Pope followed a host of priests, some of them men and some of them boys, some of them bearing the marks of scholars, others looking as though they were wholly unacquainted with brain work, but were very familiar with beefsteak and snuff-taking.

Do you ask how Pio Nona looked? Well, he looked like a good-natured, white-headed, red-faced, plump-bodied old grandpapa. We should say, if he could have his own way, he would not kick a dog, or kill a man. Still, if the blood should reach to the occiput of his brain, being more developed than his forchead, it is a doubt if he would hesitate to apply the lash, turn the thumbscrew, or tie the halter, especially would he have the heart to do this to a Garibaldian. As the Pope was borne along he kept lifting and dropping his head. Whether this was a sign of his temporal power, or an indication that he was pronouncing his benediction upon the people, we could not devise.

After the band ceased playing the choir sang most sweetly as the procession was coming into the house. When the Pope arrived at the altar prepared for this occasion, he dismounted and proceeded at once to take the

lead in celebrating High Mass. This was a long and tedious ceremony. Those standing all the while on the marble floor will bear testimony to this. All must have enjoyed the music of the choir composed of some twenty male voices. But the rest of the service was not enjoyable. Really, there was no spirit of devotion, or heart-felt worship in the house. It was a scene of splendid ostentation. All present had come either to see or be seen. Mass was not completed till nearly one. When it was finished, the procession was formed again and they marched out as they came in. After the Pope had disappeared, there was a great rush out of St. Peters, for it was expected that he would appear in front of the church, but all were disappointed in this, for in some hidden way he passed into his palace, the Vatican. But soon, while the band was performing and soldiers were parading, coaches began to rattle and roll down through the corridor from the rear of St. Peters. So this was the Pope and his coterie of cardinals and Bishops, riding out in state! In each coach there were from two to three dignitaries, and on the outside were the coachman and three guardsmen, dressed in colors to indicate the orders of priesthood within.

The coaches were trimmed with velvet and gold, and drawn by noble, sleek horses, some red and some black, arrayed in the most costly trappings. More than fifty of these carriages drove off to the Lateran church where another mass was to take place. In this church all the popes have been crowned. After this service, the Pope and aids drove to Maggiore where Pio Nono has caused a most elegant tomb to be built for himself. There they celebrated mass again. When this was done, the Church and State returned to St. Peters and the Vatican. Christmas with them in a public way was ended. Still, mass was celebrated in some of the churches till twelve at night. Through all these services, it seemed that a special effort was made to exhibit the power of the Pope and induce the people to adore him. The services were becoming man worship. They reminded us of the honors paid to Isis and Diana of Ephesus. The spirit of the day appeared to be in direct opposition to the teachings of the Divine Master. The forced and hollow dis

play reminded us of the last days of Old Rome. Mere show cannot fill the place of real substance. Ceremony without principle is trash.

Christmas in Rome is a gala day. Shops and stores are closed and all but beggars try to make glad and be merry. But how few of the patricians or plebians thronging church or street, come for or understand the spirit of him whose birth-day they pretend to celebrate.

CHRISTMAS AT THE WARDON HOUSE.

A

BY MRS. MARY C. GRANNIS.

CHAPTER IV.

(Concluded.)

FTER the estate was settled, Wardon House was occupied by a distant relative of the deceased until grandfather became of age; then, according to the orthodox custom of those days, he took to himself a wife, with whom he lived nearly twenty years, when she died, leaving him a childless widower, four children having departed this life before his wife was taken from him. Then came lonely days at the old homestead, and after a half year, grandfather embarked for a trip to the West India Islands, hoping that by engaging in more active business and visiting new scenes, he might recover his usual health and spirits. Meanwhile, the mansion was closed, excepting a small part of the rear, occupied by a worthy man and his wife, who took care of the premises until the owner's return. This occurred two years after, when the house was thrown open for the reception of another mistress; grandfather having married a beautiful and intelligent woman of Spanish descent, residing at Havana. My father was the only child of this union. Receiving every advantage of education which affection and money could bestow, he grew into early manhood a comfort and blessing to his parents. Naturally delicate, he was not allowed, by their fond indulgence, to strengthen his system by a thorough physical training, such as was most needed for one of his temperament, and consequently grew up a gentle, quiet man, more fond of his studies and the society of a few genial minds, than of engaging in the stirring life of business or adventure.

At the age of twenty-eight, he married and settled down in a neighboring city, being connected with some Banking House, which left him a good share of his time to devote to his home and family. When Charlie was six years old and myself four, our mother died; and soon after, at the urgent request of grandfather, he removed with his children and aunt Hetty to the paternal mansion. Grandmother had previously been taken away by death and it was thought best to unite the remnant of the two families now so small.

Here, at dear old Wardon House, I passed a happy childhood. Facilities for reaching the city being more abundant and rapid than when old uncle Michael used to occupy five hours in jogging over in his remarkable “gig," my father still attended to his business there, returning to his home before night, always passing his evenings with us. Thus we lived until my thirteenth birthday, when a heavenly voice came to my venerable grandfather saying, father saying, "Come thou up higher!" Fully prepared for the summons of the White Angel, the dear old saint bade us a cheerful "good-bye," and departed with a sweet smile upon his closed lips; and the mortal remains were laid away in the quietude of the ancient burial lot, beneath the shade of that gigantic weeping willow planted by the hands of our old uncle Michael seventy years before.

V.

Charlie sometimes would call me a "little coward," because I was inclined to be afraid of the dark; an element of the supernatural, notwithstanding my father's counter influence, had been wrought into the texture of my mind, through the teachings of grandfather, and showed itself in this timidity, though the activity of my imaginative faculties often led me to court adventure and to run risks that would have affrighted some children of my years.

I know not why the large, arched chamber had been abandoned as a sleeping-room, but ever since my recollection it had been used as a depository for surplus beds and bedding, with a general medley of household articles, including the little obselete spinning wheel at which uncle Michael's housekeeper formerly sat and prepared the thread for the

heavy homespun linens, some of which remained to that day, a proof of their superior excellence over modern fabrics. This little wheel used to buzz merrily round with my foot upon the treadle, and afforded me great amusement at times when out-of-door interests failed.

There was a dim, old legend about some mysterious sounds heard at night in this chamber, something resembling the tinkling of a silver bell, very soft, as though distant, yet quite distinct. That the sounds always occurred in the winter, but only after long intervals; that it was a supernatural alarm was thought evident, by the scampering of the rats, who were probably frightened at such awfully mysterious demonstrations. That just before the death of grandfather's first wife, the woman who slept in the arched chamber heard the mysterious summons and that she recognized it at once as a warning of death, which proved true, as the good woman lived but a short time after it was heard. Once grandfather alluded to it in my hearing, but my father made some remark upon the ill effect which an introduction of the popular superstitions of other days might have upon a child of quick imaginative temperament, and the subject was dropped. But the gossips of W. were not so judicious; this class of people, found in every community, are too fond of raking up everything pertaining to the marvellous in family histories, to allow such an item as this story afforded to pass without due discussion. Taus upon social occasions, like an afternoon tea-party, the subject might be brought up. On such a gathering at Wardon House of aunt Hetty's friends, I heard snatches of what I have related in regard to the mysterious visitation; and although several times sent out of the room upon one pretext or another, I heard enough to excite my childish wonder and fear, in spite of judicious aunt Hetty's efforts to the contrary.

When alone with grandpa I took the opportunity to ask him about the matter, but he, although with some leaning towards a belief in the supernatural himself, put me off with an evasive reply, well knowing my father's opposition to my learning gross superstitions connected with family history. So he said "Pooh! child; little girls of good minds

don't believe in such gossip;" and leading me into the garden I was soon absorbed in the excitement of admiring a new variety of peas, whose luxuriant vines were white with freshly-opened flowers, to my grandfather's delight, who augured favorably from them of the success of raising the imported seed which had pleased him so well.

Some months after, while rummaging in the attic, as cats and children are inclined to do on a rainy day, I conceived the notion of trying to get a peep out of the diamond window in the western gable. To achieve this project, I must crawl through a low, dark passage, scramble up to the arch, and creep along the sleepers. Wouldn't that be fun! and Charlie would never call me a coward again if I could accomplish such an undertaking! Then, too, I could play that I was "Mrs. Bluebeard's sister Annie," and look out for the good "brothers" to come to that amiable lady's rescue! Of course Charlie and I had been duly warned never to go over the arch for fear of breaking through the plaster and getting hurt ourselves, as well as damaging the wall below; this spice of danger, however, added an agreeable flavor to the enterprise, and after a hard climb, I succeeded in dragging myself upon the arch, and slowly crept along without regard to the soiling of my clothes, or the frequent scratches which my hands received from the splinters upon the rough beams, until I stood triumphant upon a narrow board before the quaint old window. Uncurtaining it of cobwebs, to the no small detriment of my apron, though the panes of glass were still somewhat obscured by neglect, I stood entranced with delight at the lovely view stretching out before me. The rain had ceased, and dark masses of clouds were moving rapidly towards the east; a patch of blue sky here and there visible, making a charming effect of light and shade upon the broad sweep of meadow with its sheltering upland thickly studded with trees. A few farm-houses scattered in the distance; the brown line of the village road; the neighboring spires and clustering roofs, and best of all, the deep, blue sea stretching away until lost in the distance, made up the charming picture. So intent was I in taking in this beautiful view, that I forget about "sister Annie," and that trem

to hunt among the old romances and magazines stored upon its shelves for something that might help to brush up my ideas in regard to getting a proper start with the new work contemplated, which of course was to be a "splendid success!"

Dragging a high stool into the closet, I mounted, and looking among the dusty heaps before me, at length selected an armful to examine more at leisure. I turned to descend from my lofty station, and in doing this the fringe of my bertha caught in a little screw on the ceiling, and losing my balance, I fell forward with a crash; a sense as if the wall was tumbling down and the violent ringing of a bell being the last that I recollected as I fainted away.

When I came to my senses, father was bending over me with a strangely bewildered expression upon his white still face. "Thank God!" he cried, while happy tears filled his eyes as he pressed me to his heart, "darling Mabel! you are not dead!" Aunt Hetty and Charlie, the one applying restoratives, and the other half wild with excitement, exclaiming in a choked voice, "Sis! pet! you are not going to leave us now, are you? Your life is worth more than all the old money in creation."

"Of course I am not dead!" I said, raising myself with his assistance, “but what a fall I had!"

"Yes! the luckliest fall you ever had in your life if it hasn't hurt you very much," said he. And with father on the other side, the two supporting me, I was led to the closet and there to my utter amazement beheld a secret compartment in the partition, the sliding panel having been pushed open by the strong netting of my dress fringe when it caught upon the spring and brought the force of my fall to bear upon it. Upon each of the four narrow shelves was standing a row of heavy canvas bags apparently filled with coin, each one being marked with labels in large, yet faded characters, describing the kind and amount of the specie which it contained.

Trembling alike with wonder, delight and physical weakness, I threw my arms around father's neck and burst into tears. Dear father! how calm and almost awed he was, through it all! I was forcibly yet tenderly carried down stairs, and not until quite comfortable and happy, resting on the lounge by the sitting-room fire, would father and Charlie leave me to make a more thorough examination of uncle Michael's long-concealed treasure, now so opportunely revealed in our time of need. Aunt Hetty became quite voluble in her praises of the grand old Captain Wardon, who had so ingeniously arranged the secret closet so long left undiscovered.

The amount of money deposited by our ancestor, and to which my father was the legal heir, was nearly sixteen thousand dollars. It consisted of Spanish and English coins in silver and gold, among which were two smaller bags filled with a variety of curious old pieces, mostly gold, which he had gathered in his visits to distant ports. These last were a fortune alone, as they were eventually disposed of by the banker, a friend of my father's, who came out from the city with his assistant the next day after the discovery and removed the treasure to his strong vault for safe keeping.

It may be supposed that Christmas day ended very happily with us, and that our dinner was served rather later than was intended. For the first time in, her life, aunt Hetty allowed one of her cranberry tarts to get scorched; but notwithstanding this little mishap, got up a spread of good things in her best style.

"We thank Thee, O God, for this unexpected gift of Thy providence! May it never be perverted or misused in any way, but may it become as Thou wouldst have it, -a blessing to others, as well as to ourselves!" These words occurred in our father's prayer that evening before Charlie started to take the night express train for the city, whither it was thought best for him to go directly to secure the services of Mr. Belnap, my father's friend, the banker.

Charlie did not go west; in the course of a month he was settled in college again. The mortgage was paid, and after the next six months had passed, and a reduction of all business expenses had been made from the