long in taking our placs, for the supper had
arrived with me, in the following procession.

Myself with the pitcher.
Ben with Beer.
Inattentive Boy with hot plates.
Inattentive Boy with hot plates.
THE TURKEY.
Female carrying sauces to be heated on the spot.
THE BEEF.
Man with Tray on his head, containing Vegetables and
Sundries.
Volunteer hostler from Hotel, grinning,
And rendering no assistance.

As we passed along the High-street, Comet-
like, we left a long tail of fragrance behind
us which caused the public to stop, sniffing
in wonder. We had previously left at the
corner of the inn-yard, a wall-eyed young
man connected with the Fly department, and
well accustomed to the sound of a railway
whistle which Ben always carries in his
pocket: whose instructions were, so soon as
he should hear the whistle blown, to dash
into the kitchen, seize the hot plum-pudding
and mince pies, and speed with them, to
Watts's Charity: where they would be received
(he was further instructed) by the
sauce-female, who would be provided with
brandy in a blue state of combustion.

All these arrangements were executed in
the most exact and punctual manner. I never
saw a finer turkey, finer beef, or greater prodigality
of sauce and gravy; and my Travellers
did wonderful justice to everything set before
them. It made my heart rejoice, to observe
how their wind-and-frost hardened faces, softened
in the clatter of plates and knives and
forks, and mellowed in the fire and supper
heat. While their hats and caps, and
wrappers, hanging up; a few small bundles
on the ground in a corner; and, in another
corner, three or four old walking sticks, worn
down at the end to mere fringe; linked this
snug interior with the bleak outside in a
golden chain.

When supper was done, and my brown
beauty had been elevated on the table, there
was a general requisition to me, to "take the
corner;" which suggested to me, comfortably
enough, how much my friends here made
of a fire—for when had / ever thought so
highly of the corner, since the days when I
connected it with Jack Horner? However,
as I declined, Ben, whose touch on all convivial
instruments is perfect, drew the table
apart, and instructing my Travellers to open
right and left on either side of me, and form
round the fire, closed up the centre with
myself and my chair, and preserved the
order we had kept at table. He had
already, in a tranquil manner, boxed
the ears of the inattentive boys until they
had been by imperceptible degrees boxed
out of the room; and he now rapidly skirmished
the sauce-female into the High
Street, disappeared, and softly closed the
door.

This was the time for bringing the poker to
bear on the billet of wood. I tapped it three
times, like an enchanted talisman, and a brilliant
host of merrymakers burst out of it,
and sported off by the chimney—rushing up
the middle in a fiery country dance, and
never coming down again. Meanwhile, by
their sparkling light which threw our lamp
into the shade, I filled the glasses, and gave
my Travellers, CHRISTMAS! —CHRISTMAS EVE,
my friends, when the Shepherds, who were
Poor Travellers too in their way, heard the
Angels sing, "On earth, peace. Goodwill
towards men!"

I don't know who was the first among us
to think that we ought to take hands as
we sat, in deference to the toast, or whether
any one of us anticipated the others, but at
any rate we all did it. We then drank to the
memory of the good Master Richard Watts.
And I wish his Ghost may never have had
worse usage under that roof, than it had
from us!

It was the witching time for Story-telling.
"Our whole life, Travellers," said I, "is a
story more or less intelligible—generally less;
but, we shall read it by a clearer light when
it is ended. I for one, am so divided this
night between fact and fiction, that I scarce
know which is which. Shall we beguile the
time by telling stories, in our order as we sit
here?"

They all answered, Yes, provided I would
begin. I had little to tell them, but I
was bound by my pwn proposal. Therefore,
after looking for a while at the spiral
column of smoke wreathing up from my
brown beauty, through which I could have
almost sworn I saw the effigy of Master
Richard Watts less startled than usual; I
fired away.

IN the year one thousand seven hundred
and ninety-nine, a relative of mine came
limping down, on foot, to this town of Chatham.
I call it this town, because if anybody
present knows to a nicety where Rochester
ends and Chatham begins, it is more than I
do. He was a poor traveller, with not a
farthing in his pocket. He sat by the fire in
this very room, and he slept one night in a
bed that will be occupied to-night by some
one here.

My relative came down to Chatham, to
enlist in a cavalry regiment, if a cavalry
regiment would have him; if not, to take
King George's shilling from any corporal or
sergeant who would put a bunch of ribbons
in his hat. His object was, to get shot; but,
he thought he might as well ride to death
as be at the trouble of walking.

My relative's Christian name was Richard,
but he was better known as Dick. He
dropped his own surname on the road down,
and took up that of Doubledick. He
was passed as Richard Doubledick; age