Christmas Day, too! and all the shops shut! “What was turkey without sausages?” gruffly asked Mr. Jenkins. “Oh, Jem!” whispered Mary, “hearken what a piece of work he’s making about sausages,—I should like to take Mrs. Jenkins up some of mother’s; they’re twice as good as bought sausages.” “I see no objection, my dear. Sausages do not involve intimacies, else his politics are what I can no ways respect.” “But, oh, Jem, if you had seen her last night about baby! I’m sure she may scold me for ever, and I’ll not answer. I’d even make her cat welcome to the sausages.” The tears gathered to Mary’s eyes as she kissed her boy. “Better take ’em upstairs, my dear, and give them to the cat’s mistress.” And Jem chuckled at his saying. Mary put them on a plate, but still she loitered. “What must I say, Jem? I never know.” “Say—I hope you’ll accept of these sausages, as my mother—no, that’s not grammar;—say what comes uppermost, Mary, it will be sure to be right.” So Mary carried them upstairs and knocked at the door; and when told to “come in,” she looked very red, but went up to Mrs. Jenkins, saying, “Please take these. Mother made them.” And was away before an answer could be given. Just as Hodgson was ready to go to church, Mrs. Jenkins came downstairs, and called Fanny. In a minute, the latter entered the Hodgsons’ room, and delivered Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins’s compliments, and they would be particular glad if Mr. and Mrs. Hodgson would eat their dinner with them. “And carry baby upstairs in a shawl, be sure,” added Mrs. Jenkins’s voice in the passage, close to the door, whither she had followed her messenger. There was no discussing the matter, with the certainty of every word being overheard. Mary looked anxiously at her husband. She remembered his saying he did not approve of Mr. Jenkins’s politics. “Do you think it would do for baby?” asked he. “Oh, yes,” answered she, eagerly; “I would wrap him up so warm.” “And I’ve got our room up to sixty-five already, for all it’s so frosty,” added the voice outside. Now, how do you think they settled the matter? The very best way in the world. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins came down into the Hodgsons’ room, and dined there. Turkey at the top, roast beef at the bottom, sausages at one side, potatoes at the other. Second course, plum-pudding at the top, and mince pies at the bottom. And after dinner, Mrs. Jenkins would have baby on her knee; and he seemed quite to take to her; she declared he was admiring the real lace on her cap, but Mary thought (though she did not say so) that he was pleased by her kind looks and coaxing words. Then he was wrapped up and carried carefully upstairs to tea, in Mrs. Jenkins’s room. And after tea, Mrs. Jenkins, and Mary, and her husband, found out each other’s mutual liking for music, and sat singing old glees and catches, till I don’t know what o’clock, without one word of politics or newspapers.