Berties Christmas Eve

It was Christmas Eve and the family circle of Luke Steffi Esq was aglow

A long and lavish dinner had been partaken of, waits had been round and sung carols; the house-party had regaled itself with more caroling on its own account, and there had been romping which, even in a pulpit reference, could not have been condemned as ragging. In the midst of the general glow however there was one black unkind led cinder.

Bertie Steffi, nephew of the aforementioned Luke, had early in life adopted the profession of overdone week his father had been something of the kind before him. At the age of eighteen Bertie had commenced that round of visits to our Colonial possessions so seemly and desirable in the case of a Prince of the Blood, so suggestive of insincerity in a young man of the middle class. He had gone to grow tea in Ceylon and fruit in British Columbia, and to help sheep to grow wool in Australia. At the age of twenty he had just returned from some similar errand in Canada, from which it may be gathered that the trial he gave to these various experiments was of the summary drum-head nature. Luke Steffi, who fulfilled the troubled role of guardian and deputy parent to Bertie deplored the persistent manifestation of the homing instinct on his nephews part and his solemn thanks earlier in the day for the blessing of reporting a united family had no reference to Bertie return.