e
at once, and tell him my experience. The fact is, if I were at dinner on
a holiday, and anybody should ask me for a sentiment, I should say, 'God
bless all holidays!'"

FOOTNOTE:

[U] Reprinted by permission of Moffat, Yard & Co., from _Christmas_. R.
H. Schauffler, Editor.

XXX

MASTER SANDY'S SNAPDRAGON[V]

ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS

THERE was just enough of December in the air and of May in the sky to
make the Yuletide of the year of grace 1611 a time of pleasure and
delight to every boy and girl in "Merrie England" from the princely
children in stately Whitehall to the humblest pot-boy and scullery-girl
in the hall of the country squire.

And in the palace at Whitehall even the cares of state gave place to the
sports of this happy season. For that "Most High and Mighty Prince
James, by the Grace of God King of Great Britain, France, and
Ireland"--as you will find him styled in your copy of the Old Version,
or what is known as "King James' Bible"--loved the Christmas
festivities, cranky, crabbed, and crusty though he was. And this year he
felt especially gracious. For now, first since the terror of the Guy
Fawkes plot which had come to naught full seven years before, did the
timid king feel secure on his throne; the translation of the Bible, on
which so many learned men had been for years engaged, had just been
issued from the press of Master Robert Baker; and, lastly, much profit
was coming into the royal treasury from the new lands in the Indies and
across the sea.

So it was to be a Merry Christmas in the palace at Whitehall. Great were
the preparations for its celebration, and the Lord Henry, the handsome,
wise and popular young Prince of Wales, whom men hoped some day to hail
as King Henry of England, was to take part in a jolly Christmas mask, in
which, too, even the little Prince Charles was to perform for the
edification of the court when the mask should be shown in the new and
gorgeous banqueting hall of the palace.

And to-night it was Christmas Eve. The Little Prince Charles and the
Princess Elizabeth could scarcely wait for the morrow, so impatient were
they to see all the grand devisings that were in store for them. So good
Master Sandy, under-tutor to the Prince, proposed to wise Archie
Armstrong, the King's jester, that they play at snapdragon for the
children in the royal nursery.

The Prince and Princess clamoured for the promised game at once, and
soon the flicker from the flaming