December

One of the charming things about Christmas Day is the now customary late luncheon for the members of the family and the intimate friends who are afterwards expected to prolong their stay until the lighting of the tree at early candle-light. Men as well as women are invited to this holiday celebration, and the occasion is one of the happiest of the happy season. Of course the guests are chosen with an especially careful thought as to their congeniality, for Christmas is never the time for the payment of social obligations, but rather for the fulfilment of the idea of peace and good-will, and comradeship must mark the keeping of the festival.

This Christmas luncheon in no way conflicts with the family dinner which comes later in the day, but is a thing apart. The children join in this, even if they are too young to remain out of bed for the later meal, and will hugely enjoy the fun which marks it.

A CHRISTMAS LUNCHEON

FOR A CHRISTMAS LUNCHEON.

The table should be arranged in scarlet, with holly to offset the more brilliant colour; in the centre should stand one of the diminutive Christmas trees, such as are to be had in the German toy shops; they are artificial, and do not take fire from the candles, and have the additional advantage of lasting for years, as they fold up like an umbrella and may be tucked out of the way from one season to another. The pot in which this little tree stands is to be surrounded with a broad wreath of holly, lying on the table. The candles on the tree are to be scarlet, and they will sufficiently light the room except for the side lights on the wall. A narrow scarlet ribbon should extend from each plate to a little parcel lying at the foot of the tree, tied up with white tissue paper and scarlet ribbons, with a spray of holly attached, and at the close of the meal these ribbons are to be pulled by each guest and the gift opened; here the fun of the Christmas luncheon begins, for these presents should in every case be some small joke on the recipient, and ingenuity and cleverness should be the price paid for them by the giver. If one has the knack of writing jingles,—and it is easily acquired,—the card bearing the verse is to accompany the gift, and the words must be read aloud for the entertainment of all.

A young man who is addicted to the bad habit of Sunday golf might have a small plaid paper golf-bag, and a card with a picture of a golfer with his sticks,—this can be cut from an advertisement or catalogue,—and a rhyme something like this:—

"Behold this young golfer so fit,
Who his ball (or his caddie) doth hit,
When six days in the week
And the seventh day eke,
To the links he doth eagerly flit."

An enthusiastic young housekeeper might be given a set of small tin baking dishes with this jingle:—

"This matron can cook wondrous well;
Every recipe known she can tell;
She can roast, stew, and bake,
Make marvellous cake,
And her jelly will frequently 'jell.'"

A pretty girl might have a pasteboard heart with the words written on it, "A heart for the heartless," and this verse below:—

"This maiden's an arrant young flirt;
Her ways are both subtle and pert.
Every man that she spies
She looks on as a prize,
And she cares not a fig for his hurt."

A little practice will make perfect in writing similar ridiculous nonsense.

The menu for this Christmas luncheon should be a very simple one in order not to impair the appetites for the Christmas goose, which will appear before many hours.