Day being ended, the Days called for their cloaks & great-coats & took their leaves. Lord Mayor's Day went off in a mist as usual; Shortest Day in a deep black Fog that wrapt the little gentleman all round like a hedgehog. Two Vigils--so watchmen are called in heaven--saw Christmas Day safe home--they had been used to the business before. Another Vigil--a stout, sturdy patrole, called the Eve of St. Christopher--seeing Ash Wednesday in a condition little better than he should be--e'en whipt him over his shoulders, pick-a-back fashion, & Old Mortification went floating home singing-- "On the bat's back do I fly," & a number of old snatches besides, between drunk & sober; but very few Aves or Penitentiaries {you may believe me} were among them. Longest Day set off westward in beautiful crimson & gold--the rest, some in one fashion, some in another; but Valentine & pretty May took their departure together in one of the prettiest silvery twilights a Lover's Day could wish to set in. FINIS [Illustration] FINIS [Illustration]