Free Classic Christmas Stories by Frank Galgay

His
     outfit in neatness and attractiveness was second to none and he certainly could
     handle a whip. He got more than his share of the wedding parties when he bought
     the grand brougham that was owned by one of our former Governors. Mingling with
     the tinkling of his grand chime of sleigh bells I hear the slower and deeper
     sound of the hand bells calling the people to come to the booths and take a
     chance in a raffle on the wheel of fortune for a turkey, a goose or a Xmas cake.
     “One more ticket to fill up! Three chances for a shilling! Come on ladies and
     gentlemen!” The lotteries are going on at Beck’s Cove, McBride’s Hill,
     Merchants’ Block, Adelaide St. and on the “Beach.” The spaces on the wheel of
     fortune are laid out with the names of towns, animals and sealing steamers,
     making the affair so much more popular and interesting.When
     the wheel stopped revolving at the named corresponding town on a ticket held by
     someone the number was announced and the prize forthwith handed over to the
     winner. I see the crowd surging forward with tense excitement on their faces
     when the wheel is being set for a new revolution. They grab the tickets as fast
     as they can be held out, each purchaser hoping to have better luck this
     time.
    The supply of poultry was bountiful in those days. It came from Prince Edward
     Island in schooner loads to Clift Wood & Co. and James Pitt’s wharves. I see
     the vessels lying at the landing piers two or three days before Christmas filled
     to the hatches with poultry, carcases of mutton and quarters of beef, also oats,
     potatoes, turnips and oysters in barrels. Oh, yes my friend, PEI gave us her
     best products in the sixties and seventies. Nearly all well off citizens laid in
     a barrel or two of oysters for the winter. The prices of fresh meats and poultry
     were so low that all could afford to buy them. Imagine paying three or four
     cents a pound for a quarter of beef! Christmas was indeed a grand time for even
     the poor man to lay in cheap farm products for the winter. Potatoes five
     shillings a barrel, turkeys four and sixpence, oats three shillings a bushel and
     real butter from PEI and Antigonish nine pence a pound.
    The crowds on the street gradually lessened after 11 o’clock at night. The
     women, girls and children are gone home with their parcels to get ready for
     tomorrow. The streets however are still thronged with men folk and with slides,
     sleighs and catamarans whose drivers are piling up to take to the homes parcels
     of “good things” for the Xmas time. Parcels! Parcels!! Parcels in every
     direction. The conveyances once loaded are going with full speed from the stores
     with their loaded festive goods to the people’s homes. The shops are open still
     and are doing a brisk trade till mid-night. When the Cathedral bells fling out
     their glad carillon over the town their iron tongues seeming to come as near to
     the spoken word as inanimate nature can be—
“Gloria in Excelsis Deo,
    Et in Terra pax hominibus voluntatis.”
    I now see the bands coming, coming out to parade Water St., calling on friends
     to serenade. The “Total Abstinence, ” the “Phoenix, ”the
     “Avalon” and the Scotch Pipers. They are all there in their uniforms making a
     picturesque and spectacular display. The Anglican choir boy too are out singing
     Xmas Carols through the streets. Nobody is in bed, the children half asleep and
     half-awake waiting for the footsteps of Father Christmas on the roof. The homes
     are lighted up with their best display of kerosene and gas.
    As the last brand in the fire tumbles down and dies in ashes and the last clang
     of the joy bells dies away I awake from reverie and thank God that in whatever
     else my nature has become impaired and weakened that my faith is stronger than
     ever in all that my youth was told and taught that Christmas means, and as I
     rise to retire my soul goes forth in an ardent and natural