n their daily visit,
found the turkey had vanished. Inquiries were made for it, and the
invited friends were assiduous in helping to unravel the mystery, and
concluded in the end that it had been stolen. They condoled and
sympathized with the bereaved, and tried to assuage the grief by
telling Trimble and wife that they would give him a dinner on
Christmas Day instead! The grief-stricken parties accepted the
invitation, as the best thing to be done under the unfortunate
circumstances. So on Christmas Day they assembled very jollily.
The earlier courses were eaten with fizz, etc. Now comes up the
principal dish, which being uncovered displayed a fine cooked turkey.
Trimble was a good-natured fellow, so you may easily foretell what
followed. Who stole the turkey? The echoes of their laughing,
intertwining shadows reply "Who-o-o?"

CHAPTER XXXIX.

MY FIRST CHRISTMAS DINNER IN VICTORIA, 1860.

By D. W. H.

"Ask and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find; knock and
it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh receiveth;
and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh it shall be
opened."--Matt. 7:7, 8.

On the 22nd day of December, 1860, nearly fifty-three years ago, I
sat in the editorial room of the _Colonist_ office on Wharf
Street, concocting a leading article. Mr. Amor De Cosmos, the able
editor and owner, had contracted a severe cold and was confined to
his room at Wilcox's Royal Hotel, so the entire work of writing up
the paper for that issue devolved upon me. The office was a rude,
one-story affair of wood. It had been erected for a merchant early in
1858, and when he failed or went away the building fell into Mr. De
Cosmos' hands. On the 11th December, 1858, Mr. De Cosmos established
the _Colonist_, which has ever since filled a prominent and
honorable position in colonial journalism. Our office, as I have
remarked, was a rude affair. The accompanying picture will convey a
better idea of its appearance than anything I might write. The
editorial room was a small space partitioned off from the composing
room, which contained also the little hand-press on which the
paper was printed. A person who might wish to see the editor was
forced to pick his way through a line of stands and cases at which
stood the coatless printers who set the type and prepared the forms
for the press.

[Portrait: Amor de Cosmos.]

The day was chill and raw. A heavy wind from the south-west stirred
the