'Trotty Veck, my boy! It's got about, that your
daughter is going to be married to-morrow. There
an't a soul that knows you that don't wish you well,
or that knows her and don't wish her well. Or that
knows you both, and don't wish you both all the hap-
piness the New Year can bring. And here we are, to
play it in and dance it in, accordingly.'

  Which was received with a general shout. The
Drum was rather drunk, by the bye; but, never mind.

  'What a happiness it is, I'm sure,' said Trotty, 'to
be so esteemed! How kind and neighbourly you are;
It's all along of my dear daughter. She deserves it!'

  They were ready for a dance in half a second (Meg
and Richard at the top); and the Drum was on the
very brink of leathering away with all his power;
when a combination of prodigious sounds was heard
outside, and a good-humoured comely woman of some
fifty years of age, or thereabouts, came running in,
attended by a man bearing a stone pitcher of terrific
size, and closely followed by the marrow-bones and
cleavers, and the bells; not the Bells, but a portable
collection on a frame.

  Trotty said, 'It's Mrs. Chickenstalker!' And sat
down and beat his knees again.

  'Married, and not tell me, Meg!' cried the good
woman 'Never! I couldn't rest on the last night
of the Old Year without coming to wish you joy.
I couldn't have done it, Meg. Not if I had been
bedridden. So here I am; and as it s New Year's
Eve, and the Eve of your wedding too, my dear
I had a little flip made and brought it with me.'

  'Mrs. Chickenstalker's notion of a little flip, did
honour to her character. The pitcher steamed and
smoked and reeked like a volcano; and the man who
had carried it, was faint.

   'Mrs. Tugby!' said Trotty, who had been going
round and round her, in an ecstasy. -- 'I should say
Chickenstalker -- Bless your heart and soul! A happy
New Year, and many of 'em! Mrs. Tugby,' said
Trotty when he had saluted her; -- 'I should say
Chickenstalker -- This is William Fern and Lilian.'

  The worthy dame, to his surprise, turned very pale
and very red.

  'Not Lilian Fern whose mother died in Dorset-
shire!' said she.

  Her uncle answered 'Yes,' and meeting hastily
they exchanged some hurried words together; of
which the upshot was, that Mrs. Chickenstalker shook
him by both hands; saluted Trotty on his cheek again
of her own free will; and took the child to her capa-
cious breast.

  'Will Fern!' said Trotty, pulling on his right-hand
muffler; 'Not the friend you was hoping to find?'

  'Ay!' returned Will, putting a hand on each of
Trotty's shoulders. 'And like to prove a'most as
good a friend, if that can be, as one I found.'

  'O!' said Trotty. 'Please to play up there. Will
you have the goodness!'

   To the music of the band, the bells, the marrow-
bones and cleavers, all at once; and while the Chimes
were yet in lusty operation out of doors, Trotty
making Meg and Richard second couple, led off Mrs.
Chickenstalker down the dance, and danced it in a
step unknown before or since; founded on his own
peculiar trot.

   Had Trotty dreamed? Or, are his joys and sor-
rows, and the actors in them, but a dream; himself
a dream; the teller of this tale a dreamer, waking
but now? If it be so, O listener, dear to him in all
his visions, try to bear in mind the stern realities
from which these shadows come; and in your sphere --
none is too wide, and none too limited for such an
end -- endeavour to correct, improve, and soften them.
So may the New Year be a happy one to you, happy
to many more whose happiness depends on you! So
may each year be happier than the last, and not the
meanest of our brethren or sisterhood debarred their
rightful share, in what our Great Creator formed
them to enjoy.
.