he children, the girls are to be
given soup tickets to distribute to beggars, and the boys are to have
their choice between French and German wooden soldiers. The former will
be treasured up, the latter will be subjected to fearful tortures. Even
the midnight mass, which is usually celebrated on Christmas-eve, took
place in very few churches last night. We have, indeed, too much on our
hands to attend either to fasts or festivals, although in the opinion of
the _Univers_, the last sortie would have been far more successful had
it taken place on the 7th of the month, the anniversary of the
promulgation of the Immaculate Conception. Among fine people New
Year's-day is more of a fete than Christmas. Its approach is regarded
with dark misgivings by many, for every gentleman is expected to make a
call upon all the ladies of his acquaintance, and to leave them a box of
sugarplums. This is a heavy tax upon those who have more friends than
money--300fr. is not considered an extraordinary sum to spend upon these
bonbonnieres. A friend of mine, indeed, assured me that he yearly spent
1000fr., but then he was a notorious liar, so very possibly he was not
telling the truth. "Thank Heaven," says the men, "at least we shall get
off the sugarplum tax this year." But the ladies are not to be done out
of their rights this way, and they throw out very strong hints that if
sugarplums are out of season, anything solid is very much in season. A
dandy who is known to have a stock of sausages, is overwhelmed with
compliments by his fair friends. A good leg of mutton would, I am sure,
win the heart of the proudest beauty, and by the gift of half-a-dozen
potatoes you might make a friend for life. The English here are making
feeble attempts to celebrate Christmas correctly. In an English
restaurant two turkeys had been treasured up for the important occasion,
but unfortunately a few days ago they anticipated their fate, and most
ill-naturedly insisted upon dying. One fortunate Briton has got ten
pounds of camel, and has invited about twenty of his countrymen to aid
him in devouring this singular substitute for turkey. Another gives
himself airs because he has some potted turkey, which is solemnly to be
consumed to-day spread on bread. I am myself going to dine with the
correspondent of one of your contemporaries. On the same floor as
himself lives a family who left Paris before the commencement of the
siege. Necessity knows no law; so the other da