The higher circles of society observe New Year as a time of exchanging calls and visiting, feasting and merrymaking. At the banquets of the wealthy every possible delicacy in the way of food is temptingly displayed, and great elegance in dress indulged in by the ladies, who wear their finest gowns and adorn themselves in priceless jewels and rare laces. But there is so much etiquette to be observed among this class of Spaniards that one looks for the real enjoyment of the season among the common classes. In some parts of Spain bull-fights are given as late as December, but cold weather has a softening effect on the poor bulls and makes them less ferocious, so unless the season proves unusually warm that favorite entertainment has to be abandoned for a time. Meanwhile in the streets and homes one may often see a father on all fours enacting the infuriated bull for his little sons to attack; in this way he teaches them the envied art of bull-fighting. The Yule-tide festivities end at Twelfth Day,--Epiphany,--when crowds of young folks go from gate to gate in the cities to meet the Magi, and after much merriment they come to the conclusion that the Magi will not appear until the following year. NIGHT OF MARVELS In such a marvelous night; so fair And full of wonder, strange and new, Ye shepherds of the vale, declare-- Who saw the greatest wonder? Who? (_First Shepherd_) I saw the trembling fire look wan; (_Second Shepherd_) I saw the sun shed tears of blood; (_Third Shepherd_) I saw a God become a man; (_Fourth Shepherd_) I saw a man become a God. O, wondrous marvels! at the thought, The bosom's awe and reverence move; But who such prodigies hath wrought? What gave such wondrous birth? 'Twas love! What called from heaven the flame divine, Which streams in glory far above, And bid it o'er earth's bosom shine, And bless us with its brightness? Love! Who bid the glorious sun arrest His course, and o'er heaven's concave move In tears,--the saddest, loneliest, Of the celestial orbs? 'Twas love! Who raised the human race so high, E'en to the starry seats above, That, for our mortal progeny, A man became a God? 'Twas love! Who humbled from the seats of light Their Lord, all human woes to prove, Led the great Source of day to night, And made of God a man? 'Twas love! Yes! love has wrought, and love alone, The victories all,--beneath, above: And heaven and earth shall shout as one, The all-triumphant song Of love.