“Better take another glass of wine, sir,” said Jeremiah. “Give me leave, sir, to pour it out.”
“No, no!” exclaimed Mrs Wag, starting up and smiling through her tears, “let me! Nobody else! God bless you, sir!”
“And you, too!” ejaculated the old gentleman gaily; “come, that’s a challenge! Glasses round! and then we must say, good-night. Don’t let us make a dull end of a merry evening.”
Warm benedictions were forthwith uttered, and the “compliments of the season” were wished, with more than common sincerity, by all three, as their glasses met jingling together. Then, the whimsical guest tossed off his wine, jumped up, shook his hosts heartily by the hand, wished them good-night, and sallied into the shop to find his cloak. Mr and Mrs Wag followed, and expressed a hope that he would honour their Christmas dinner by his presence on the following day; but all they could draw from him was—“Can’t promise. Ate and drank a little too much to-night, perhaps. Getting shockingly old. See how I am in the morning. Enjoyed myself this evening. A jolly set of Wags altogether! Merry Wags all, eh?—young and old. Well, well, wag along happily, my dear Mr and Mrs Wag! Good-night!” And after once more shaking hands with them, he nimbly whisked himself out at the shop-door, and trotted across to the King’s Arms.
No sooner were the worthy couple alone than curiosity led them to examine the piece of paper which their benefactor had presented to Jeremiah for the purpose of lighting his pipe, and it proved to be the promissory note which the latter had signed for the first thousand pounds. The donor’s intention was plain enough, as it was regularly cancelled, so Mrs Wag was obliged to use her pocket-handkerchief once more; and her spouse, after striding three or four times rapidly across the room, felt himself also under the necessity of taking out his, and blowing his nose with unusual vehemence. Then they congratulated and comforted each other, and said their prayers, and offered up their thanks-givings with a fervour and sincerity that proved they were not unworthy of their good fortune. Then they retired to rest, though not immediately to sleep, for they were each beset by strange waking dreams, and beheld in their minds’ eye a black clerical Wag, two long-coated little blue Wags, with yellow nether investments, and other Wags of sorted sizes, but all very happy.
On the following morning, being Christmas day, our fortunate shopkeeper equipped himself in his best apparel, and, before breakfast, stepped across the road, and found Mr Titus Twist rubbing his eyes in his own gateway. Mutual salutations, and “compliments of the season,” were exchanged in good neighbourly style, and then mine host exclaimed, “There’s a box here for you, Master Wag, left by that queer little old gentleman. I’m sure he’s cracked! In he comes here yesterday, just after dark, posting in his own carriage. Well, he orders up anything as we happened to have ready, and I sets him down to as good a dinner as ever any gentleman need sit down to, though I say it, because why, you see, our larder’s pretty considerably well stocked at this season. So down he sits, rubbing his hands, and seeming as pleased as Punch, and orders a bottle of wine; but, before he’d been ten minutes at table, up he jumps, claps on his cloak and hat, and runs smack out o’ the house, and never comes back again till past eleven at night, when he pays his bill, and orders horses for six o’clock this morning.”
“Is he gone, then?” exclaimed Jeremiah.
“Off, sure enough,” replied Titus; “but he’s left a great box for you, which I was just going to send over. So, I suppose you and he have some dealings together.”
“Yes,” said Mr Wag, “I shall have cause to bless and thank him the latest day I have to live; but I wish he had stopped here to-day. Well, God bless him, wherever he is gone. Hark ye, neighbour—you have often heard me speak of having a friend—well, that’s him. I don’t know why, but he’s taken a fancy to me and my wife and family, and has done for us more than you’d believe, if I was to tell you. However, we can chat that over another day, as I can’t stop now, as Mrs Wag and the children are waiting breakfast. But where’s the box? I’ll take it with me, if you please.”