secret additions to the order
originally given by aunt George at the pastry-cook's, such as another
dozen of mince-pies for the dinner, and a large plum-cake for the
children.

On Christmas-eve, grandmamma is always in excellent spirits, and after
employing all the children, during the day, in stoning the plums, and all
that, insists, regularly every year, on uncle George coming down into the
kitchen, taking off his coat, and stirring the pudding for half an hour
or so, which uncle George good-humouredly does, to the vociferous delight
of the children and servants. The evening concludes with a glorious game
of blind-man's-buff, in an early stage of which grandpapa takes great
care to be caught, in order that he may have an opportunity of displaying
his dexterity.

On the following morning, the old couple, with as many of the children as
the pew will hold, go to church in great state: leaving aunt George at
home dusting decanters and filling casters, and uncle George carrying
bottles into the dining-parlour, and calling for corkscrews, and getting
into everybody's way.

When the church-party return to lunch, grandpapa produces a small sprig
of mistletoe from his pocket, and tempts the boys to kiss their little
cousins under it--a proceeding which affords both the boys and the old
gentleman unlimited satisfaction, but which rather outrages grandmamma's
ideas of decorum, until grandpapa says, that when he was just thirteen
years and three months old, _he_ kissed grandmamma under a mistletoe too,
on which the children clap their hands, and laugh very heartily, as do
aunt George and uncle George; and grandmamma looks pleased, and says,
with a benevolent smile, that grandpapa was an impudent young dog, on
which the children laugh very heartily again, and grandpapa more heartily
than any of them.

But all these diversions are nothing to the subsequent excitement when
grandmamma in a high cap, and slate-coloured silk gown; and grandpapa
with a beautifully plaited shirt-frill, and white neckerchief; seat
themselves on one side of the drawing-room fire, with uncle George's
children and little cousins innumerable, seated in the front, waiting the
arrival of the expected visitors. Suddenly a hackney-coach is heard to
stop, and uncle George, who has been looking out of the window, exclaims
'Here's Jane!' on which the children rush to the door, and helter-skelter
down-stairs; and uncle Robert and aunt Jane, and the dear little