364 OLD HOLIDAY AMUSEMENTS. 



become the types of written things. Yet one of 

 them in the irritation of the moment I have at 

 times wished, selfishly enough perhaps^ consigned to 

 oblivion with monks and monkish deeds. " Christ- 

 massing," as we call it, the decorating our churches, 

 houses, and market meats with evergreens, is yet 

 retained among us ; and we growers of such things 

 annually contribute more than we wish for the 

 demand of the towns. Sprays and sprigs may be 

 connived at, but this year I lost most of my beau- 

 tiful young holly trees, the cherished nurselings of 

 my hedgerows. The holly, though indigenous 

 with us, is a very slow growing tree, and certainly 

 the most ornamental of our native foresters. Its 

 fine foliage shining in vigour and health, min- 

 gling with its brilliant coral beads, gives us the 

 cheering aspect of a summer's verdure, when all 

 besides is desolation and decay. It is not only 

 grateful to the eye, but gives us pleasure, when 

 we contemplate the food it will afford our poor 

 hedgefaring birds, when all but its berries and those 

 of the ivy are consumed ; and we are careful to 

 preserve these gay youths of promise, when we 

 trim our fences: but no sooner do they become 

 young trees, in splendid beauty, than the merciless 

 hatchet, in some December's night, lops off their 

 heads, leaving a naked unsightly stake to point out 

 our loss ; and we grieve and are vexed, for they 

 never acquire again comparative beauty. These 



