d _bouilli_ for dinner, on the auspicious
day itself. I have kept Christmas by the bed-side of a sick friend, and
wished him the compliments of the season in his physic-bottles (had they
contained another six months' life, poor soul!) I have kept Christmas at
rich men's tables, where I have been uncomfortable; and once in a
cobbler's shop, where I was excessively convivial. I have spent one
Christmas in prison. Start not, urbane reader! I was not sent there for
larceny, nor for misdemeanor: but for debt.

It was Christmas-eve; and I--my name is Prupper--was taking my walks abroad.
I walked through the crowded Strand, elate, hilarious, benignant, for the
feast was prepared, and the guests were bidden. Such a turkey I had
ordered! Not the prize one with the ribbons--I mistrusted that; but a
plump, tender, white-breasted bird, a king of turkeys. It was to be boiled
with oyster-sauce; and the rest of the Christmas dinner was to consist of
that noble sirloin of roast beef, and that immortal cod's head and
shoulders! I had bought the materials for the pudding, too, some half-hour
previously: the plums and the currants, the citron and the allspice, the
flour and the eggs. I was happy.

Onward, by the bright grocers' shops, thronged with pudding-purchasers!
Onward, by the book-sellers', though lingering, it may be, for a moment,
by the gorgeous Christmas books, with their bright binding, and brighter
pictures. Onward, by the pastry cooks'! Onward, elate, hilarious, and
benignant, until, just as I stopped by a poulterer's shop, to admire the
finest capon that ever London or Christmas saw, a hand was laid on my
shoulder!

"Before our sovereign lady the Queen"--"by the grace of God,
greeting"--"that you take the body of Thomas Prupper, and him safely
keep"--"and for so doing, this shall be your warrant."

These dread and significant words swam before my dazzled eyelids, dancing
maniac hornpipes on a parchment slip of paper. I was to keep Christmas in
no other company than that of the once celebrated fictitious personage,
supposed to be the familiar of all persons similarly situated--JOHN DOE.

I remember with horror, that some fortnight previously, a lawyers's clerk
deposited on my shoulder a slip of paper, which he stated to be the copy
of a writ, and in which her Majesty the Queen (mixed up for the nonce with
John, Lord Campbell) was pleased to command me to enter an appearance
somewhere, by such a day, in order to answer th