Volume XI, 
DECEMBER, 1882. 
No. 12. 
The Christmas Guest. 
A TALE OF LONG AGO. 
Night in Uie Baron’s castle. 
Night on the windy moor, 
The best of nights for the very rich 
And the worst for the very poor ; 
For the Yule-log blazed in the ancient hold, 
And the begger shrank from the biting cold 
The Baron’s only daughter, 
The little Lady Grace, 
Was better dressed than any guest 
And fairer in the face; 
But never a thought of pride had she, 
As they gayly danced round the Christmas-tree 
When lo! an Ul-clad 
stranger 
Stood in the firelight’s 
glow; ' 
His head was bare, his 
golden hair 
All wet with melting 
snow. 
“Whence eomest thou?” 
the children cried, 
But only a dim, sweet 
smile replied. 
It is the little Christ-child,” 
Low spoke the Lady Grace. 
I dreamed last night that a halo bright 
Shone round that very face. 
And he said : “ Be sure you have eyes to see, 
For I shall stand by your Christmas-tree.” 
So, when they spread the table, 
A chair I bade them set 
At my right hand for a guest more grand 
Than all assembled yet. 
And my mother said, when the servant 
smiled: 
’Tis the second sight. Obey the child. ” 
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