_A Wayfarer's Fancy._


"A felicitous combination of the German, the Sclave, and the
Semite, with grand features, brown hair floating in artistic
fashion, and brown eyes in spectacles."

_George Eliot._




TWO CHRISTMASES.


I.

It was the time of the great war. Germany was desolated. Towns and
villages were destroyed by flames. Order and law had given way to savage
power; and from the walls of many a ruined house of God the wooden image
of the Saviour looked down with a face of anguish on the horrors of the
degenerate times.

The terrified citizens of towns that were still untouched by war, hid
themselves within their narrow walls, awaiting, in tremulous fear, the
day on which their homes must also fall a prey to plundering soldiers.
If any one were obliged to go beyond the boundaries, he would glance
anxiously at the bushes on either side of the road; and when night came
on, he would be forced to look with horror and sorrow at the reddened
horizon, where a little village or lonely hamlet was burning to ashes.