Lazy Thoughts of a Lazy Girl / Sister of that Idle Fellow.""

ristling with prickles. Go where you will, you cannot avoid these pointed, j

han holly, only such a little suffices. At Christmas time you are literally saturated with it. In e

latter, I must confess. It is the most disagreeable work I have ever undertaken. Such dirty work, too! Your hands or your gloves grow perfectly black under the operation; and it is a curious thing, that when this stage is reached, your nose invariably begins to itch, and you forget the condition of your fingers, and-well, the result is anything b

eir fists down sharply on some charming arrangement of holly round the pulpit. They do not actually swear then, but their faces express s

f these cheerful, sociable beings together as we can; and, in short, make a delightful family party. Holly? it is an insult to the tree to compare it in any way. No, I think the w

they ever danced and enjoyed themselves like other people? What has made them so sour, so bitter? Is it disappointment or regret? Poor old souls! In spite of their money, they never seem happy. They are to be pitied, I think, though they do try to make themselves as disagreeable as possible. They are

ng, for you have always to be ready to smooth over and soften every sentence that is said. And she never helps you at al

rnish with a pun of the poorest description. It generally has to be repeated twice, too, for it is never noticed the first time. The poor pun, indeed, has a most melancholy existence, f

parties either? They are our thorns in th

st you expect is a good night's rest to support and invigorate you for the ba

ngs under your window. Morpheus flies, he has a musical ear has that god, and when once, "Oh, come let us adore him," with a concertina accompaniment, b

eluded people squalling outside! It must be so cold, so raw; and they never get appreciated, these so-called

eason draws to a close, and the last petitioner for Christmas-boxes goes on his way rejoicing. To me it always rea

nt about them; and it is not until the following day, when you find yourself with a dozen letter

st wearying to read. Between every line you seem to see the words, "Is not this a charming letter?" and in reality you are so bored it is all you can do to reach the end. Then those dreadful persons who "cross and recross" their epistles in every

ise if we addressed him so to his face! And we end in just such a foolish and unreasonable way, "Yours obediently, faithfully, truly!" Where is the sense? Your signature should be quite enough. You have to be so careful, too, in sa

s, and some go right away and spend the time at a different place every year. These last are, I think, by far the most sensible. It is a mistake to have land-marks to remind you how time is running on, how frien

f sorrow is remembe

es which recall no sorrows or recollections a

s tired of all that. He likes a change of fashion, like everybody else. He either comes so thickly enveloped in yellow fog that you can scarcely di

not blame him. But still he is not a very great favorite of mine, and I cannot refrain fr