CHRISTMAS COMES BUT ONCE A YEAR It was not much after seven o'clock, but early hours are kept in the country, and there was a six-mile drive between Holly Lodge and Marrowbone. Betty enjoyed the drive, inhaling the icy, crisp night air as if it were champagne. Old Whitey did the six miles in less than an hour, and Betty was in the thick of the arrivals for the party. The hospitable host, Major Lindsay--for there were many majors and colonels in Virginia in those days--met his guests on the great portico, with the big wooden Doric columns. "How do you do, Miss Betty?" Major Lindsay said. "And where is the Colonel, pray?" "Granddaddy sent his compliments and regrets, but he says he is really too rheumatic to go out to dances," answered Betty, slipping out of the rockaway. "Nonsense, nonsense!" shouted the Major, who was big and florid and handsome. "The Colonel is as able to shake a leg as ever he was, by George! I hope Cesar has brought the fiddle, because we are reckoning upon him." "Yes, sirree," answered Uncle Cesar, with important emphasis. "I got some rheumatiz, too, same like ole Marse, but mine is in my legs, thank God A'mighty, and ain't tech my bow arm yet, praise the Lamb!" Betty tripped up the steps, and Major Lindsay gallantly escorted her into the wide hall. Within this great hall were Christmas mirth and cheeriness, and laughter and bright eyes and gay smiles. The house, following the plan of most houses of eastern Virginia, had a splendid great hall, big enough for a ball-room, and always used for dancing; for the people of Virginia are inveterate dancers, and a house is but poorly provided which cannot furnish space for balls. Holly wreaths were everywhere, and over each door was a sprig of mistletoe, causing the ladies to scamper through the doorways with little shrieks of laughter, while the gentlemen used strategies to intercept them. Already dancing had begun, though the orchestra was by no means complete without Uncle Cesar. But the impatient young feet could not wait. Isaac Minkins, a saddle-colored person, who combined the profession of driving a fish-cart in the day-time and fiddling in the evening, was the director of the orchestra, and his sole assistant, until Uncle Cesar arrived, was a coal black youth who also helped on the fish-cart, and who performed upon the concertina, or, as the negroes call it, the "lap organ." Uncle Cesar, who was quickly hustled into the hall, promptly tuned up and played second fiddle.