resisted desperately. Several of our men were badly wounded. How many Ribbonmen were injured we never could discover accurately, for we found afterwards that some of those who got away carried with them very unpleasant reminders of their night's work.

By degrees the men brought in the prisoners, and then we found that ten had been arrested, three or four of whom were rather badly hurt; and it is a singular fact that, although we explained to the farmer and his household the reason of their visit, some of the women could not restrain their pity for the injured prisoners, but as they tended their wounds expressed their compassion in such remarks as, "Oh, the fine boys! what a pity they should be so knocked about," and so on.

Of course we could prove nothing against our friend, the spy, he was sitting quietly in the house taking no part in the proceedings. We kept him prisoner, however, and made him serve a very useful purpose as I shall relate further on.

Having procured carts in which to carry the wounded, we marched back to M and lodged our prisoners in the County Jail. It was Christmas morning, as we passed through the streets; the bells were ringing in the glad time, and a mournful commentary our sad procession appeared to be on the joyful sound. I am afraid there was not much peace or "goodwill" in any of our hearts.

I was engaged for a short time in some necessary work, making out a report or something of that kind, and on going into the large room where the prisoners were seated, awaiting their examination, I found the "spy" sitting dolefully in a corner-and immediately began to display great concern for him, asked him to come toward the fire, and told one of the turnkeys to get him some coffee and make him comfortable; instantly all eyes were turned on him and meaning glances were exchanged, as much as to say "Oh! there's the Informer, that's the villain who betrayed us!" This was exactly what I wanted, and so well was suspicion fastened upon him that to this day he is spoken of as the man who gave the information, and he had to leave the country as soon as he was discharged, or his life would not have been safe. It is needless to say that the true informer got safely away during the attack, and that I afterwards paid him handsomely for his services.

I have only to add that at the assizes the prisoners were sentenced to various periods of transportation: I received the thanks of the Magistrates and Grand Jury assembled, and myself and the police were substantially rewarded.

After all, too, we brought "Peace" into the district, and "Goodwill" has gradually grown up amongst the different classes of the population, so that the police have now but little to do in this county, and our escapes and successes in the earlier days have become but traditions of the force.

This was the remark with which the old man usually finished his tale. Had he lived until now he would have seen that the spirit of lawlessness

was only checked-not subdued. Let us hope that the efforts now being made will have a more permanent effect, and that the time may not be far distant when the aspiration of the poet will become a reality, and that year by year the Christmas bells may

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

G. J. S.

The Christmas Meditations of Policeman X.

"D like to know who'd be a policeman if he warn't obligated to!

I'D It's ard lines enuf at reglar times, but it's orful aggrawatin at

Crismas; speshully wen the snow's a snowin, and the wind 's a blowin as it do to night, and a feller's got well nigh four hour more to trapes up an down these ere roads afore he can turn in. Why, we'm wuss nor the cabbies and they'm bad enuf-lord knows; but they do get a hextra drop o' summut ot wen they takes their fares ome arter a party; and they can sit a bit, and be cumfertubul like, and read the Sportin Life in them shelturs o' theirn wen they ain't got nair a job. Besides, they knocks orf at 'leven or twelve; and they don't stand a charnce o' avin a brickhend shied at their bloomin eds evry night.

I orfen wunders, as I'm a moonin on my beat, if the folks as is a hinjyin theirselves in their warm, cumfertubul ouses, ever thinks about the poor devil of a pleeceman as is obligated to tramp, tramp, all night long in the cold an the sludge wi never a sole to speek to. Why if I could'nt watch the goins-on at some o'them ouses, an tork to myself bit, I should go a ravin mad I do believe. An wen I sees the lights a shinin thru the winders, and ears the larfin an the fun as is a goin on inside; an wen I catches sight o' the shadders on the blinds of the young cupples a rompin an a kissin under the misselto, I do get that down in the dumps as I never thinks on at no other time.

I spose as ow there must be pleecemen, an I spose as noboddy ud jine the force, as the sayin is, as long as he'd got summut better to do; but wot riles me orful is them beaks, and them folks as is allus a ritin to the noosepapers. They expex a pleeceman to be a heddicated mon, and a hangel in temper; to say nothin about his bein as strong as a norse and as hupright as a lamp-post. Why if a pleeceman carn't tell a

drunken booze from a happle-wot-chyer-call-it fit, or if he gies a chap wun for is nob, arter he's bin sorced for arf an hour, and ad a peck or two of stones whizzed at his ed-he's pulled up strait and lekchured accordin. Bless yer ! -- a pleeceman ain't sposed to be flesh and blood like other folks! he mayn't av rheumatis, or tuth ache, and he may'nt be sorry for any o' the poor craters as he's got to run in-tho' praps he knows ow they'n bin led on and ruined.

Ah! I've seen some rum things in my time, I have; and some as as made my art ache, and made me right down glad to get back to my own little crib, tho' it is in a back court in a back street; for it don't much matter where yer ouse is, if a feller's got a good tidy sort of a wife, like mine, to look arter im when he gets ome.

Now there's one o' them big ouses on my beat to-night, it ain't got no lights a shinin through the winders tho', and there ain't no larfin and fun goin on there now--more's the pity; why, two year ago this Christmas night I was on this identical beat, and that ouse was a lighted up, and there was no end o' carriages a waitin outside, and there was music and dancin and all sorts o' fun. And I could see right into the roɔm, for the blinds wos pulled up, and didn't I wish I could a bin wun o' the party!

Well, every time I cum round, I watched this ere room, and I saw all the gentlefolks leave one arter another till the room was quite empty. And twelve o'clock cum, and one o'clock cum, and two o'clock cum-and still the gas wos all a flarin, and the glasses and the dishes and things wos a lyin on the table, and there worn't a soul stirrin. Well, yer know, it worn't no biznis o' mine, but I couldn't help thinkin as there wos summut the matter; and just as I cum round agen, and the church clock wos a strikin three, a woman rushed out o' the ouse with nothin on but her night clothes, and shrieked out "Help! Help!" and then her vice left her all on a sudden, and she fell down on the gravel walk in a dead faint.

By the time as I'd carried the lady into the ouse, the servunts had come down arf dressed just as they wos, and the sight there wos in that ere dinin room I never shall forget. There wos the master a lyin stone dead on the floor, with a little bottle o' pison in wun and, and the t'other a twisted in the tablecloth as ad pulled over all the glasses, and the dishes, and the flowers,-and there wos his wife—the lady as I'd carried in, looking as white as the poor dead man hisself; and all the wile there wos a little child a strugglin to get out o' the nusse's arins and a callin out-" Papa! Papa!" I'm blest if the water didn't cum into my eyes unbeknown to me, and I couldn't say a blessed word for the lump in my throat.

There wos a hinquest, in course, but nobody know'd for sartin wot the mystery wos, tho' Sarahann, the ousemaid next door, and the cook at number five, allus shook their eds and said it was all along o' jealousy.

Well, this ain't a werry nice thing to come inter yer ed on a Crismas night, but it will come yer know, and yer can't elp it. God elp the poor

widder! I say; which I ope He will, for I don't believe as her mean't to do anythin wrong; and I know as the waits and the carol-singers allus got a good haul, and plenty o' wittles there.

NOTE. So far as memory serves me, I have related these Christmas meditations in the very words used by Policeman X, and in so doing I have taken a few liberties with the Queen's English: not, however, from any desire to affect a peculiarity in spelling, but simply to give the reader a more accurate idea of his (Policeman X's) manner of speaking. Even with the fear of the Watch Committee before my eyes, I am not afraid to confess that I did coax my policeman into a loquacious mood by a little innocent bribe in the shape of a mince pie and "summut ot," (coffee I assure you), and I venture to ask my readers, when, warm and rosy by their own firesides, they are revelling in the good things that Christmas-time brings forth, not to forget the poor "Bobby" who is facing the cold wintry blast outside, silent, and, may be, sad, with none to bear him company.

LEO.

Bringing parties, feasts, and dances,
Cheering us with joke and pun,
Drowning thoughts of life's mischances,
In charades, and games, and fun.

Of past hours, too, memories bringing,
Spent with friends in converse sweet,
And whose words of love come ringing,
Once again our thoughts to greet.

Christmas breathes the benediction,—
"Peace on earth, Goodwill to men,"
Softening sorrow and affliction,
Healing wounded hearts again.

Welcome! then, Old Christmas hoary,
Tho' he comes 'mid ice and snow,
Hail his bright and tranquil glory,
Scatt'ring darkness, want, and woe.

A. T. C.