DECEMBER 313 



It is the last day of the Old Year ; the last sad twilight 

 deepens over its aged form. We sit in the glow of the 

 embers and muse upon the many things that have fled for 

 ever, the beauties of the passing seasons which we have beheld, 

 saying with Shakespeare 



" We have eyes to wonder, but lack tongue to praise. 11 



Anon the bells chime from the tower. In the silence of 

 the year's last hour we gaze from our window over the sweep 

 of the star-strewn frosty sky, where fall, ever and anon, the 

 stars like golden petals from over-blown flowers, and we 

 almost hear the Old Year bidding us farewell in the words of 

 Michael Drayton 



" Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part. 



Nay, I have done, you get no more of me ; 

 And I am glad yea, glad with all my heart 

 That thus so cleanly I myself can free. 

 Shake hands for ever ! " 



THE END 



Printed by BAJLLANTYNE, HANSON & Co. 

 Edinburgh 6* London 



