After the ball was over, Mac A'Rony was returned in safety to his stall. The little fellow appeared to be the nimbler from his cold-water plunge, and was so elated over his extraordinary exploits that he brayed all the way to his quarters."
As soon as I heard Mac I rushed out to the barn bare-headed, and threw my arms round his neck. I found the little fellow joyously rummaging in four huge stockings filled with corn bread, molasses cake, mince pie, carrots, and apple-sauce. "I had a h--l of a time last night," was all he said.
Christmas day is a merry day For all good lads and lassies, But dull and lorn for th' fellow born To ride or drive jackasses.
Yuletide afforded me few pleasures. How I was to bridge the gulf of penury and want of the Holiday season caused me much concern. Lacking the funds to pay my hotel and stable bills, I canvassed the town and sold a few pictures before church time. I wished to attend Christmas service, but lacked the nerve. My grotesque attire might have inspired the preacher.
I had worn holes in all my socks, and not having the price of a new pair, retired to my room to darn them. It was the first darning of that sort I ever did; when I had finished, I darned my luck, the hard times, and many things not down on the calendar. I pictured to my mind's eye the pleasures of Christmastide, of which I had cheated myself; but it was no time to brood over might-have-beens. I would start for the next town that morning. I felt a constant anxiety for Mac A'Rony's safety, and shouldn't feel easy until we were out of the college district.
We reached Amsterdam in time for Christmas dinner. I will not give the bill of fare; it wouldn't whet your appetite. The following day was almost as dull as Christmas. In the morning I was fortunate enough to receive in advance two dollars for distributing calendars to the farmers on my way to the next town, and employed the afternoon repairing saddle-bags.
The snow lay deep, the weather was windy and chill, and my donkey slower than axle grease; so I tarried over night and heard Sabbath bells.
Sunday evening saw us comfortably quartered in the little village of Fonda, a few miles' journey. While supping I learned that a German newspaper reporter, who claimed to be walking across the continent on a $750 wager, was a guest at another hotel. He came into town shortly after dark, and, unable to pay for a bed, was permitted to sleep on a bench, where my informant saw him. By the terms of his bet, the fellow was not allowed to beg, but could accept the earth, if offered him.