to continue its previous
success.

* * * * *

SHAKSPEARE AT YULETIDE.--Excellent arrangements at the Lyceum for
Christmas. Genial _Ravenswood_ is to be performed only on a Friday.
For the rest,--no not "the rest" where so much work is involved,--for
"the remainder" of the week, the Master of the Shakespearian Revels
gives us _Much Ado About Nothing_, with our ELLEN and HENRY as
_Beatrice_ and _Benedick_, and with all its memorable glory of costume
and scenery,--a Shakspearian revival well worthy to be reckoned as
among the foremost of all the attractions offered by the theatres this
Christmas.

* * * * *

[Illustration: CHRISTMAS EVE AT THE MOATED GRANGE.

_Emily_ (_in the midst of Aunt Marianna's blood-curdling
Ghost Story_). "HUSH! LISTEN! THERE'S A DOOR BANGING SOMEWHERE
DOWNSTAIRS!--AND YET THE SERVANTS HAVE GONE TO BED. GEORGE, DO JUST
RUN DOWN AND SEE WHAT IT CAN BE!"

[_George wishes himself back at Charterhouse._]]

* * * * *

"KEEP THE POT A-BOILING!"

(_A SEASONABLE SUGGESTION._)

Christmas comes once more,
Well-beloved Old Father!
Though the season's hoar,
Warm his welcome--rather!
Parties come and go,
True to _him_ our heart is,
With his beard of snow,
Best of (Christmas) Parties!
Say the day is chill,
Say the weather's windy,
He brings warm good-will,
Not heart-freezing shindy.
"Union!" is his cry,--
Hearts and hands and voices.
Confraternity
His kind soul rejoices.
When the youngsters slide
On the frozen river.
As they glow and glide,
Do they shrink or shiver?
Nay; nor dread nor doubt
Their brisk sport is spoiling,
Gleefully they shout,
"Keep the Pot a-boiling!"

Keep it? Ay, by Jove!
We are on our mettle.
'Tis a game we love
More than Pot and Kettle.
Poorish sport that same,
Angry mutual blackening.
Here's a merrier game.
Pull up there! Who's slackening?
Not the leader, _Punch_!
On he goes, amazing,
To the rest his hunch
Like a beacon blazing.
Not Old Father X!
How the Ancient goes it!
'Tis a sight to vex
Malice, and he knows it;
Not young Master BULL!
At the game _he_'s handy,
Nor has much the pull
Of his pal, young SANDY;
Not that dark-eyed girl
With her cloak a-flying,
She can swing and swirl
With the boys. She's trying
Eve