at the doors
Of those, their fellows, sunk in Somnus' arms,
Great hubbub made, and much the town alarm'd.
At length the gladsome, congregated throng,
Toward the school their willing progress bent,
With loud huzzas, and, crowded round the desk,
Where sat the master busy at his books,
In reg'lar order, each receiv'd his own,
The youngsters then, enfranchised from the school,
Their fav'rite sports pursued."

A writer in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for February, 1795, gives the
following account of a Christmas Eve custom at the house of Sir ----
Holt, Bart., of Aston, near Birmingham:

"As soon as supper is over, a table is set in the hall. On it is
placed a brown loaf, with twenty silver threepences stuck on the top
of it, a tankard of ale, with pipes and tobacco; and the two oldest
servants have chairs behind it, to sit as judges if they please. The
steward brings the servants, both men and women, by one at a time,
covered with a winnow-sheet, and lays their right hand on the loaf,
exposing no other part of the body. The oldest of the two judges
guesses at the person, by naming a name, then the younger judge, and
lastly the oldest again. If they hit upon the right name, the steward
leads the person back again; but, if they do not, he takes off the
winnow-sheet, and the person receives a threepence, makes a low
obeisance to the judges, but speaks not a word. When the second
servant was brought, the younger judge guessed first and third; and
this they did alternately, till all the money was given away. Whatever
servant had not slept in the house the preceding night forfeited his
right to the money. No account is given of the origin of this strange
custom, but it has been practised ever since the family lived there.
When the money is gone, the servants have full liberty to drink,
dance, sing, and go to bed when they please."

Brand quotes the foregoing paragraph and asks: "Can this be what
Aubrey calls the sport of 'Cob-loaf stealing'?"

THE DELIGHTS OF CHRISTMAS.

A New Song by R. P.

(Tune--"Since Love is my Plan.")

_In the Poor Soldier._

When Christmas approaches each bosom is gay,
That festival banishes sorrow away,
While Richard he kisses both Susan and Dolly,
When tricking the house up with ivy and holly;
For never as yet it was counted a crime,
To be merry and cherry at that happy time.
For never as yet, &c.

Then comes turkey and chine, wi