These things, I said, are natural fruits of after-Christmas meditations. And the Christmas tree remains--although the gifts that surrounded it have been taken away, it is a pleasanter sight than it was yesterday, because it is already a beautiful old friend, a friend to whom we are grateful. It does not look ridiculous because its great day is gone, as, for example, a fire-cracker looks ridiculous on July 5. For Christmas is more than a day, it is a season, of which December 25 is only the commencement. And as the Christmas tree seems pleasanter and more friendly when some of its needles have formed little green aromatic heaps on the carpet, and when the china angel and two or three of the red glass balls have been taken down for the baby to play with--so does the Christmas season seem pleasanter and more friendly when its first great feast and pageant has come to its joyous close and become a part of time's rich treasury of golden days. FUGITIVE PIECES THE ASHMAN PEOPLE AN ASHMAN. A POLICEMAN. A LITTLE GIRL IN GREEN. SCENE: _A city alley. The ASHMAN is fastening a nosebag on his horse, which is harnessed to a wagon half-filled with ashes. A POLICEMAN is watching him._ TIME: _Noon._ POLICEMAN What do you feed him? Ashes? ASHMAN No, I don't! I feed him Harps. Come over here, you boob, And let him bite your face, he's hungry! POLICEMAN Aw! You're nothing but a Harp yourself, you poor Old God-forsaken ashman; Or a wop, Or some fool kind of foreigner. ASHMAN O Hell! You make me sick, you big fat pie-faced mutt! Get out, you spoil my horse's appetite! POLICEMAN I'd hate to be your horse, but then I guess I'd rather be your horse than you. (_Exit._) (_A LITTLE GIRL IN GREEN appears from behind the wagon._) LITTLE GIRL Hello! ASHMAN Hello there, kiddo! Where did _you_ come from? (_Climbs to his seat on the wagon, takes out a tin pail, and begins to eat his lunch._) LITTLE GIRL I think I'd like some bread and butter, please! ASHMAN All right, old girl, just take a bite of that. (_Tosses his half loaf down to her._) LITTLE GIRL There isn't any butter on it. ASHMAN No. I haven't got no butter. But it's good, It's first-rate bread, all right. LITTLE GIRL (_tossing back the loaf, from which she has taken a bite_) Thanks very much! Thanks, Captain Thunder! ASHMAN Huh? You're a queer kid, all right, and hungry, too, To eat dry bread. (_Eats some of the bread._) Why damn my eyes! God's wounds! Here's scurvy provender. (_Throws the bread down._) And scurvy mirth! What, Kate! Dear Kate o' the Green, well met, well met. Slip up and sit beside me, lass! It's not The first time you have been upon this seat. LITTLE GIRL (_climbing up beside him_)