December should be a cheerful month, weather or no. It should be a warm one too, though never so cold. People blow their fires and use their bellows within, while the wind bellows without. Lawyers are glad over _Coke_. Men _take measures_ to secure the comfort of their bodies, and preserve the coats of their stomachs. Though the Legislature does not sit, the middle classes rejoice in the carrying of _many of their bills_. Pastrycooks begin to _mince matters_; and "eyes" are turned towards "pies." Politicians affect sincerity; and _Peel, tout_ _sweet_, becomes _candid_. _Gross_ acts of plum-puddingizing are effected by means of a _grocer_; and _Plum-tree-street_ is then the sweetest locality in St. Giles's. The Irish daily find fresh _raisins_ for flocking there. With the sale of plums money gets _current_; but the sovereign is just now more valued than ever, and, at the great theatres, _Stirling_ is all the go. The markets grow lively, and Smithfield puts forth its show. Pigs have lots of stuffing, and get so heavy that it is quite common to ask for a _pig of lead_. About oxen and sheep there is a decided _ignis fat-you-us_. Beasts visit beasts, and human fat cattle—to survey the quadrupedal—walk in, _plump_. Butchers display fine _traits_. _Boxing day_ arrives, and with it the _knocks_ of tradesmen, but they only make a _hit_ when they are paid. People are obliged to wait for their own _Nox_ till _night_. Merry drinks and games then stir not the fire, but the fire-side. The _younger_ branches of families are indulged in wine that is _elder_, universal _supperage_ supplies the place of universal suffrage; and the only ballot is for the bean in the cake. Christmas is as brave a fellow on land as ever Admiral _Winter_ was at sea, and should be toasted accordingly. He lights our fires, and leaves few without fuel:—he tows up our colliers to warm our toes; and, though he is too kind to sink the barges, he always _scuttles the coals_! He is no revolutionist, for, whilst warming the _little_, he has a respect for the _grate_. "He is," says the Frenchman, "our defender, by _de_ _fender_; and if he do seem cold, it is only because he is neither a _bore_ nor a _muff_." [Illustration: 15. Mrs. Trimmer d. 1810.] Hurrah! for jolly Christmas, boys! his days are coming fast; When rod is nought but rod'montade, and birch becomes bombast. DECEMBER.—CHRISTMAS BUSTLE. Tuggeridge vowed that I should finish my days there, when he put me in prison. It appears that we both had reason to be ashamed of ourselves, and were, thank God! I learned to be sorry for my bad feelings towards him, and he actually wrote to me, to say,—