“It _is_ a terrible time!” it whimpered--“A terrible, terrible time! Everybody expects everybody else to give them something! Such a waste and such an expense! Oh, hoo-roo!” Again Josiah essayed to speak,--but his tongue still refused to utter. “At this depressing period,” went on the ranting “Firebrand”--“When stupid Humans wished each other to be ‘Merry’ without any cause for merriment, it is a great joy to find so sensible and practical a person as our dear, rich, wise friend Mr. Millionaire McNason among us! Yes, my brethren, it is a great joy! For _he_ never wished anyone a ‘merry’ or even a happy time in his life, and quite right too! He never wanted to be ‘merry’ himself--never felt like it--never looked like it! He is the master of a great Business and has no time for Sentiment. Sentiment is an imbecile quality pertaining to girls, women and fools. And our Human brother is not a fool! Oh dear no! He is living precisely as he wishes to die;--he is making himself into one of US with all possible speed! And how clever that is of him! His only regret is that he will have no use for Money when he becomes a member of our United Empire Club:--and that to be a lord will give him no extra privileges! Otherwise, he is perfectly satisfied with Himself--just as we all used to be perfectly satisfied with Ourselves! And are we not satisfied with ourselves still? Oh yes, my brethren!--oh yes, we are satisfied, because we are compelled to be satisfied! There is no getting out of Our condition! We chose it, We made it, and here We are! And in the spirit of One Timothy Two, we exhort our Human brother to continue in the self righteous way he is going! We beseech him never to be ‘merry,’ never to be kind! We implore him never to either lend or give money to those in need, not even to an old and faithful servant! For old and faithful servants are just as great humbugs as any other class of persons! Moreover gifts are always resented, and kindnesses considered as merely personal advertisements of generosity! Let our Human brother always be as he is now, and so shall he reap the just reward of his labours! The just reward!--the just reward----” Here the bells suddenly began again, pealing their chimes with a delicious softness as though far, far away. “Soon, very soon,” continued the “Firebrand,” lifting both its skeleton arms aloft from the enshrouding folds of its black draperies--“for our Human brother the joys of money-making will be no more! Soon, very soon, the demands upon his Purse will cease, and his weary eyes will close for the last time upon the pleasant sun! Soon, very soon, he will hear no more ‘compliments of the season’--nor will he be troubled by the hand-shake of a friend, or the suffering appeal of the sick and needy. Soon, very soon, his ears will be deaf to all entreaties or messages--he will not even hear the message of the Bells! The Bells!”