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THE GOOD FELLOWS' CHRISTMAS EVE
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rang out the hour in a clear Christmas strain.
' ' Stuff and nonsense ! " he muttered. "How glad I'll be when it's over for another year ! ' '
The dignified quiet of the Commonwealth Club was not broken by any holiday festivities, tho wreaths of holly hung in every window and trimmed the gleaming chandeliers. With a sigh of relief, Crocker flung himself into a chair before a blazing
half-dozen men. Crocker knew them all well. Ordinarily, they were dignified and conservative citizens, conducting themselves like true Bostonians. Tonight, they danced across the room, with clasped hands, carolling gaily,
God rest ye, merry gentlemen, Let nothing ye dismay !
until they stopped with a lew bow before the disgusted Crocker.
CROCKER REFUSES TO BE ONE OF THE TEN THOUSAND
fire and ordered a bottle of wine and a newspaper.
"What's doing on State Street today?'' he wondered, turning toward the sixth page. But, instead of the familiar list of quotations, his eyes fell upon a glaring headline :
WANTED— 10,000 Good Fellows, to bring Christmas joy to 10,000 cheerless families!
The paper was flung to the floor in disgust, just as the door opened, letting in a whiff of frosty air and a
"Hello, old man!" they chorused; "come, get off your grouch. Dont you know it's Christmas eve? Seen the paper? We're off to be jolly good fellows. Come along."
"I'm not a lunatic," returned Crocker. ' ' Come on and have a game of whist."
"On Christmas eve? Not much! What ails you? Were you never a kid? Didn't Santa Claus come down your chimney? Come along and celebrate."