The Road to Christmas

All year long we have been traveling toward Christmas--I and my old wife, our children and our grand children--not all by the same road, not all with the same expectations, but all looking out alike for the first glimpse of its smoke rising above the wintery landscape of the year. Now we can almost fancy that we hear the chiming of the famous bells--all Christmas towns are famous for their bells--and we know that shall soon be at our inn.

If life be a journey, and each year a stage upon the road, I do not know where else a sensible man would stop for the recruiting of his health that the fine old Christmas towns. There, if anywhere, men are found living together merrily; the inns are warm, the cheer is good, the amusements are the heartiest, and the society is the best. I have been through many a Christmas town --for I have traveled far-- and have rested thoroughly in each. I never found two of them alike.

Of late they have been much grayer and quieter than they used formerly to be; but I do not think that I have been less happy of the quiet towns at which I of late years have resided. Let me confess so much. As for those about me who declare them to be not quiet by any means, but perfectly uproarious with jollity, I do not interfere with their opinion. Children so easilydeceive themselves; it is enough for me that I am old enough to see things as they are.