aisins in it was the richest possible pudding! The
sale of sweets was unprecedented--so unprecedented that toothache was an
epidemic until French relieved it. How the shop assistant clung to his
reason is a mystery which has yet to be solved. Behind the counter he
was hampered by the local _elite_: Judges, Doctors, Directors, etc., who
would never say die (from hunger) while they lived. Outside the counter
the madding throng felt likewise. But the great ones were able to help
themselves; they inspected the shelves, perused the labels of every
antiquated sauce and pickle bottle in stock since the "early days," and
placed the best of these relics of a pre-consolidated era in heaps aside
for Monday's dinner. There were special constables on duty within and
without the store, which was as full as an egg; and when after a while
it was apparent that this congestion retarded business, the hundred
Christians nearest the door were hustled into the street with all the
"good will" in the world. But the relief came too late; the clock
struck nine ere half the multitude were served--or even formally
satisfied that blood is not in turnips. Of the merry season we were wont
to enjoy, the busy throng was the sole reminiscence. Its good things
were absent. But that bitter truth did not make less keen our hunt the
slipper pursuit of Christmas fare.

CHAPTER XI

_Week ending 30th December, 1899_

Christmas Eve--a memorable day in its own way--dawned in due course. It
was not the siege alone, with its attendant inconveniences, that made it
memorable. It was not that the season accentuated the want of _enough_
to eat; nor was it the absence of the time-honoured turkey that tried us
most. There was something else besides, namely, the capers of the sun.
Thermal phenomena are of course not strictly pertinent to my story. But
I feel impelled to digress for a little and warm, as it were, to this
new element of discomfort, provided doubtless as a Christmas Box by the
thoughtful clerk of the weather. To those of us who were enjoying our
first taste of a sunny southern summer the heat of the day was
excruciating; it literally took one's breath away. A man could not even
read; he tried to, in the hope of falling asleep incidentally. But in
vain. 'Nature's soft nurse' was not to be cajoled by artifice. There was
no air, no breeze to fan her softness. The thermometer registered on its
imperturbable face one hundred and seven in the shade, at