agination, and its appearance
would have surprised him more than any one else, so speculative was it.

[Illustration: CHRISTMAS EVE.
THE FOOD IN PERSPECTIVE.]

Mr. Brown is in the City, homeward bound by the omnibus, intending to
realize "a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year." It is so foggy that
he finds he is going at an invisible pace, obliging him to abandon the
invisible vehicle in an invisible street, paying an invisible fare.

[Illustration]

He ties a handkerchief round his foot to prevent slipping; and has
something "short" to keep out the cold; and a little brandy-punch to
keep out the fog; and a little egg-flip to keep him warm; and a link
that he may see the way, for his vision is not very distinct;--his head
is delightfully buoyant, his optics inclined to multiply, and his legs
very refractory, having a great desire to dance or go sideways, but
obstinately refusing, in their eccentricity, to proceed in a straight
line; for Mr. Brown is more merry than particular--taking Newgate Market
in his way home to Mizzlington from the 'Change. Having a great
veneration for old customs, he buys a boar's head there and boy to carry
it; next, being taken with a crockery-shop-sign, "The Little Bason"
(which, by-the-bye, was a very large one), he purchases that also,
thinking it will do for a wassail-bowl; likewise some holly; and an old
butcher's-block to serve as the yule-log; not forgetting the last new
Christmas book of sympathy and sentiment, "The Black Beetle on the Hob,"
a faery tale of a register-stove, by the author of the "Old Hearth Broom
and the Kettle-Holder:"--With these articles Mr. Brown and his retinue
reach home in safety--a miracle, considering the toast and ale they have
consumed,--the Holly being jolly, the Bason groggy, the Log stupid, and
the Boar pig-headed. They find Victoria deaf; for Mr. Brown has made her
little gothic door to shiver, and the bolts to chatter with the blows,
yet none respond; for the servants are very jovial over boiled ale in
the crypt--little thinking or caring about their master; who, after
having rung all the bells singly, walked backwards, surveyed the
windows, tumbled over the block, and endangered the wassail-bowl, tries
ringing all the bells at once without avail; so enters by the back
window, and performs a dexterous summerset down the stairs, in company
with some evergreens and a flower-stand, ending in a series of double
knocks performed upon the inside o