and a din, I thought, I had never heard raised before, even by female voices; when suddenly awaking, I found that the noise proceeded from my own sweet-voiced better-half, who told me that my fire had burnt out, my candle was glimmering in it's socket, and that, unless I speedily roused myself, I must go supperless to bed.

"NEWS OF LITERATURE," 1826.

THE

DINNER OF THE MONTHS.

ONCE upon a time, the Months determined to dine together. They were a long while deciding who should have the honour of being the Host upon so solemn an occasion; but the lot at length fell upon December, for although this old gentleman's manners were found to be rather cold upon first acquaintance, yet it was well known that when once you got under his roof, there was not a merrier, or more hospitable, person in existence. The messenger too, Christmas Day, whom he sent round with his cards of invitation, won the hearts of all; although he played several mad pranks, and received many a box in return. February begged to be excused coming to the Dinner, as she was in very bad spirits on account of the loss of her youngest child, the twenty-ninth, who had lately left her, and was not expected to return for four

years. Her objection, however, was over-ruled; and being seated at table between the smiling May, and that merry old fellow October, she appeared to enjoy the evening's entertainment as much as any of the Company.

The Dinner was a superb one; all the company having contributed to furnish out the table. January thought for the thirtieth time what he should give, and then determined to send a calf's head. February not being a very productive Month, was also a littled puzzled, but at length resolved to contribute an enormous cake, which she managed to manufacture in fine style, with the assistance of her servant Valentine, who was an excellent fellow at that sort of ware, but especially at Bride-cake. March and April agreed to furnish all the fish; May to decorate the dishes with flowers; June to supply plenty of excellent cyder; July and August to provide the dessert; September a magnificent course of all sorts of game, excepting pheasants; which exception was supplied by October, as well as a couple of hampers of fine home-brewed ale; and November engaged that there should be an abundance of ice. The rest of the eatables, and all the wine, were provided by the worthy host himself.

Just before sitting down to table, a slight

squabble arose about precedency; some of the Company insisting that the first in rank was January, and some that it was March. The host, however decided in favour of January, whom he placed in the seat of honour, at his right hand. November, a prim, blue-nosed old maid, sat at his left; and June, a pleasant, good-tempered fellow, although occasionally rather too warm, sat opposite him at the end of the Table.

The Dinner was admirably served. Christmasday was the principal waiter; but the host had been obliged to borrow the attendance of some of his guests' servants, and accordingly Twelfth-night, Shrove-Tuesday, and Michaelmas-day, officiated in various departments: though Shrove-Tuesday was speedily turned out, for making rather too free with a prim, demure servant-maid, called GoodFriday, while she was toasting some hot-cross buns for the tea-table.

A short, squab, little fellow, called St. Thomas's day, stood behind December's chair, and officiated as toast-master; and much merriment was excited by the contrast between the diminutive appearance of this man, and the longest day, who stood behind June, at the other end of the table. Master Thomas, however, was a very useful fellow; and besides performing the high official duty, which we

have mentioned, he drew the curtains, stirred the fire, lighted and snuffed the candles, and, like all other little men, seemed to think himself of more importance than any body else.

The pretty blushing May was the general toast of the company; and many compliments were passed upon the elegant manner in which she had decorated the dishes. Old January tried to be very sweet upon her, but she received him coldly; as he was known not to be a loyal subject, and to have once stolen a Crown and Sceptre, and hidden them in a grave; and May, who was loyal to the back-bone, had much trouble in finding out, and restoring them. January at length ceased to persecute her with his attentions, and transferred them to November, who was of the same politics as himself, although she had not been quite so successful in supporting them. Poor May had scarcely got rid of her venerable lover, before that sentimental swain April, began to tell her that he was absolutely dying for her. This youth was one moment all sunshine, and smiles, and rapture; and the next he dissolved in tears, clouds gathered upon his brow, and he looked a fitter suitor for November than for May; who having at last hinted as much to him, he left her in a huff, and entered into close conversation with September, who al