IT was bitterly cold， the sky glittered withstars， and not a breeze stirred. “Bump”—an old potwas thrown at a neighbor's door; and “bang，bang，” went the guns; for they were GREeting theNew Year. It was New Year's Eve， and the churchclock was striking twelve. “Tan-ta-ra-ra， tan-ta-ra-ra，” sounded the horn， and the mail-coach camelumbering up. The clumsy vehicle stopped at thegate of the town; all the places had been taken， for there were twelve passengers in thecoach.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried the people in the town; for in every house the New Year wasbeing welcomed; and as the clock struck， they stood up， the full glasses in their hands， todrink success to the new comer. “A happy New Year，” was the cry; “a pretty wife， plenty ofmoney， and no sorrow or care.”
the wish passed round， and the glasses clashed together till they rang again; while beforethe town-gate the mail coach stopped with the twelve strange passengers. And who werethese strangers? Each of them had his passport and his luggage with him; they evenbrought presents for me， and for you， and for all the people in the town. “Who were they?what did they want? and what did they bring with them?”
“Good-morning，” they cried to the sentry at the town-gate.
“Good-morning，” replied the sentry; for the clock had struck twelve. “Your name andprofession?” asked the sentry of the one who alighted first from the carriage.
“See for yourself in the passport，” he replied. “I am myself;” and a famous fellow helooked， arrayed in bear-skin and fur boots. “I am the man on whom many persons fix theirhopes. Come to me to-morrow， and I'll give you a New Year's present. I throw shillings andpence among the people; I give balls， no less than thirty-one; indeed， that is the highestnumber I can spare for balls. My ships are often frozen in， but in my offices it is warm andcomfortable. My name is JANUARY. I'm a merchant， and I generally bring my accounts withme.”
then the second alighted. He seemed a merry fellow. He was a director of a theatre， amanager of masked balls， and a leader of all the amusements we can imagine. His luggageconsisted of a GREat cask.
“We'll dance the bung out of the cask at carnival time，” said he; “I'll prepare a merrytune for you and for myself too. Unfortunately I have not long to live—the shortest time， infact， of my whole family—only twenty-eight days. Sometimes they pop me in a day extra; butI trouble myself very little about that. Hurrah!”
“You must not shout so，” said the sentry.
“Certainly I may shout，” retorted the man; “I'm Prince Carnival， travelling under thename of FEBRUARY.”
the third now got out. He looked a personification of fasting; but he carried his nose veryhigh， for he was related to the “forty (k)nights，” and was a weather prophet. But that isnot a very lucrative office， and therefore he praised fasting. In his button-hole he carried alittle bunch of violets， but they were very small.
“MARCH， March，” the fourth called after him， slapping him on the shoulder， “don't yousmell something? Make haste into the guard room; they're drinking punch there; that'syour favorite drink. I can smell it out here already. Forward， Master March.” But it was nottrue; the speaker only wanted to remind him of his name， and to make an APRIL fool of him;for with that fun the fourth generally began his career. He looked very jovial， did little work，and had the more holidays. “If the world were only a little more settled，” said he： “butsometimes I'm obliged to be in a good humor， and sometimes a bad one， according tocircumstances; now rain， now sunshine. I'm kind of a house agent，1 also a manager offunerals. I can laugh or cry， according to circumstances. I have my summer wardrobe in thisbox here， but it would be very foolish to put it on now. Here I am. On Sundays I go outwalking in shoes and white silk stockings， and a muff.”
After him， a lady stepped out of the coach. Shecalled herself Miss MAY. She wore a summer dressand overshoes; her dress was a light GREen， andshe wore anemones in her hair. She was so scentedwith wild-thyme， that it made the sentry sneeze.
“Your health， and God bless you，” was hersalutation to him.
How pretty she was! and such a singer! not atheatre singer， nor a ballad singer; no， but asinger of the woods; for she wandered through thegay GREen forest， and had a concert there for her own amusement.