A Blackstone Christmas Eve. were lately appended to the will that we pre sented to Ralph Murgatroyd, and the sight of which funereal document nearly frightened him into postponing its execution lest he should be signing his death-warrant." When the manager took his departure Trinity clock was striking the hour of seven. Taking up the manuscript and weighing it in his hands in a clerkly sort of way and counting the sheets, Michael remarked to himself— " A tidyish job; but I've got the whole night before me, so now for a good re past at Florence's cafe after buying the muff. The dear old mother shall have a merry Christmas with it." Then pocketing the key of the outer door he sallied into the crisp December air on his errand. Returning in about an hour he found some difficulty in adjusting his key and chaffingly thought, "That generous glass of egg-nog which I drank in honor of old Christmastide was a little too lively." The liveliness followed him to his desk and to a relighting of his gas droplight. " By Jove," he added as the bright flame reflected upon the Blackstone picture, "I could have sworn that the old Judge was winking at me. I wonder if he ever gave to barristers any commentaries upon egg-nog at Christmas time at the Mitre tavern, where the gravest pundits of the Middle Temple near its en trance often met. " Here's to you, Sir Wil liam, and a merry Christmas to you whereever in the spirit-world you may be." And the merry scrivener went through the pan tomime of raising an invisible second glass of egg-nog to his lips. But he began his engrossing job with a light heart, and never was the traditional phrase " In the Name of God, Amen" bet ter done in old English text at the beginning of a will during the olden time of Coke and illuminated text than in the present effort of Michael Sandford. Once or twice he came near writing the word egg-nog at the end of some bequeathement; but happily escaped realizing the
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suggestion. A blot at the bottom of the first sheet caused him to recommence again. A few moments of puzzle over whether he should follow the spelling of "devizes" in the manuscript before him or accept the modern substitution of an "s" for a "z"; and divers pausings for reflections and thoughtful soliloquies over the context he was transcribing, and especially upon the phrase " to my beloved daughter on her marriage," led to many delays; so that eleven o'clock struck from the Trinity tower before he had completed his task. As he did so, his eye glancing up again at the Blackstone picture caught Sir William apparently "wink ing his other eye "; and at the same moment a jostle of his arm caused a book to drop from the desk to the floor. Stooping to pick it up he saw it was the volume of Blackstone containing, as he knew it did, the commen taries on the acts and property of decedents. Turning to the pages as apropos of his labor he began reading almost mechanically. Soon the types of the page began to dance a sort of Christmas reel before his eyes and he felt the back of his head inclining toward the high rail of his office-chair in a sort of deliri ous doze; while thoughts of Sir William Blackstone and the spiritual seances he had lately attended curiously fleeted across his brain. Presently a hard breathing at his right side somewhat aroused him from Tiis som nolence and he slightly turned his face to ward its direction. There seated, on a chair, was the face and figure of the picture, except that Blackstone's wig was now awry with a very comical effect. Looking upward at the picture the scrivener saw now only an empty frame. "I suppose, Michael, you are surprised to see me just as I was in the flesh. How are you, my boy? We have long been tacit friends, and in my spirit home I often reflect upon your worship of me." Michael was not only a Spiritualist but a Swedenborgian; and so the appearance of
