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<h1><span>Part III</span></h1>
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<h2><span>Chapter I</span></h2>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">On the evening of New Year's day, Grandfather
was walking to and fro, across the carpet, listening
to the rain which beat hard against the curtained
windows. The riotous blast shook the casement, as
if a strong man were striving to force his entrance
into the comfortable room. With every puff of the
wind, the fire leaped upward from the hearth,
laughing and rejoicing at the shrieks of the wintry
storm.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">Meanwhile, Grandfather's chair stood in its customary
place by the fireside. The bright blaze
gleamed upon the fantastic figures of its oaken back,
and shone through the open-work, so that a complete
pattern was thrown upon the opposite side of
the room. Sometimes, for a moment or two, the
shadow remained immovable, as if it were painted
on the wall. Then, all at once, it began to quiver,
and leap, and dance, with a frisky motion. Anon,
seeming to remember that these antics were unworthy
of such a dignified and venerable chair, it suddenly
stood still. But soon it began to dance anew.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">"Only see how grandfather's chair is dancing!"
cried little Alice.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">And she ran to the wall, and tried to catch hold
of the flickering shadow; for to children of five
years old, a shadow seems almost as real as a substance.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">"I wish," said Clara, "Grandfather would sit
down in the chair, and finish its history."</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">If the children had been looking at Grandfather,
they would have noticed that he paused in his walk
across the room, when Clara made this remark.
The kind old gentleman was ready and willing to
resume his stories of departed times. But he had
resolved to wait till his auditors should request him
to proceed, in order that they might find the instructive
history of the chair a pleasure, and not a
task.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">"Grandfather," said Charley, "I am tired to
death of this dismal rain, and of hearing the wind
roar in the chimney. I have had no good time all
day. It would be better to hear stories about the
chair, than to sit doing nothing, and thinking of
nothing."</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">To say the truth, our friend Charley was very
much out of humor with the storm, because it had
kept him all day within doors, and hindered him from
making trial of a splendid sled, which Grandfather
had given him for a New Year's gift. As all sleds,
now-a-days, must have a name, the one in question
had been honored with the title of Grandfather's
Chair, which was painted in golden letters, on each
of the sides. Charley greatly admired the construction
of the new vehicle, and felt certain that it
would outstrip any other sled that ever dashed
adown the long slopes of the Common.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">As for Laurence, he happened to be thinking,
just at this moment, about the history of the chair.
Kind old Grandfather had made him a present of a
volume of engraved portraits, representing the features
of eminent and famous people of all countries.
Among them Laurence found several who had formerly
occupied our chair, or been connected with
its adventures. While Grandfather walked to and
fro across the room, the imaginative boy was gazing
at the historic chair. He endeavored to summon
up the portraits which he had seen in his volume,
and to place them, like living figures, in the empty
seat.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">"The old chair has begun another year of its
existence, to-day," said Laurence. "We must
make haste, or it will have a new history to be told
before we finish the old one."</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">"Yes, my children," replied Grandfather, with a
smile and a sigh, "another year has been added to
those of the two centuries, and upward, which have
passed since the Lady Arbella brought this chair
over from England. It is three times as old as
your Grandfather; but a year makes no impression
on its oaken frame, while it bends the old man
nearer and nearer to the earth; so let me go on
with my stories while I may."</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">Accordingly, Grandfather came to the fireside,
and seated himself in the venerable chair. The
lion's head looked down with a grimly good-natured
aspect, as the children clustered around the old
gentleman's knees. It almost seemed as if a real
lion were peeping over the back of the chair, and
smiling at the group of auditors, with a sort of lion-like
complaisance. Little Alice, whose fancy often
inspired her with singular ideas, exclaimed that the
lion's head was nodding at her, and that it looked
as if it were going to open its wide jaws and tell a
story.</p>
<p class="tei tei-p" style="margin-bottom: 1.00em">But, as the lion's head appeared to be in no
haste to speak, and as there was no record or tradition
of its having spoken, during the whole existence
of the chair, Grandfather did not consider it
worth while to wait.</p>
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