dinner, consisting of a leg of pickled pork and greens, and a pair of roast stuffed fowls. A handsome mince-pie had been made yesterday morning (which accounted for the mincemeat not being missed), and the pudding was already on the boil.

These extensive arrangements occasioned us to be cut off unceremoniously in respect of breakfast; “for I ain't,” said Mrs. Joe, — “I ain't a going to have no formal cramming and busting and washing up now, with what I've got before me, I promise you!”

So, we had our slices served out, as if we were two thousand troops on a forced march instead of a man and boy at home; and we took gulps of milk and water, with apologetic countenances, from a jug on the dresser. In the meantime, Mrs. Joe put clean white curtains up, and