It was Christmas eve, and the whole of the family were congregated in the little back parlour, when young Jerry started up at the well-known sound of a customer at the shop-door, at which he arrived with a hop, step, and jump; and, jerking it open, beheld a little old gentleman wrapped in a large cloak.
“Please to walk in, sir,” said Jerry Wag.
“Hush!” whispered the stranger, placing his forefinger on his mouth, “I want to surprise them. You’re all together to-night, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Jerry, smiling, for he thought he knew to whom he was speaking.
“That’s right,” said the odd elderly gentleman, advancing cautiously towards the darkest part of the shop, and throwing off his cloak. “Now for a Christmas frolic! Come here, you rogue! Why, you’ve grown taller than me. That’s right! a thriving Wag! Now, mind, you go back as if nothing had happened, and give me hold of your coat-tail, so that I can’t be seen. That’ll do. No laughing, you young monkey. There, step along.”
Jerry did as he was bid, save that, though he bit his lips unmercifully, his risible muscles would not remain inactive; and thus the oddly-joined pair made their way into the family apartment just as the eldest daughter had exclaimed, “Now, mamma, it’s your turn to wish!”
They were sitting in a semicircle before the fire, and the stranger and his shield, of course, stood behind them.
“Heigho!” said Mrs Wag, “there’s only one thing I wish for to-night, and that is the addition of one more to our party.”
“Name! name! You must name your wish!” cried three or four juvenile voices, in full glee.
“I wish I could tell you his name,” said Mrs Wag, “but your father knows who I mean. Don’t you, my dear?”