The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-12-31 00:00:00

utiti•tot4a.6 Unzilsit.

I propose to glance back at some of the

antique associations of Christmastide feasting in
our own country. Scott, and scores of other
singers of smaller voice, have bid us look to bygone
days for England's merry epoch; but, poets and
romancers notwithstanding, our latd was never
merrier, not even at the • joyfurst feast,' as Withers
called Christmas, than it is now. I grant you our
foregoers had a wonderful capacity for mirth. They
were a tilarions race, ever ready for sport or for ths
banqueting board; but they did not live under such
conditions for inspiring substantial merriment as their ,
more favoured posterity enjoy. Nowadays nearly
every household, excepting the poorest of all, can
gather together a sufficiency of creature necessities and
comforts to make a family Christmas feast. But before '
the schoolmaster and the political economist had been
abroad and changed TA:a-conditions of sockety, a great ,
gap stood between toed-and Labour; on the one band
was wealth and plenty, on the other poverty and
dependence. Then, asnow, notwithstanding, the spirit
of Christmas, as the end of the year drew nigh, got
into the hearts of all, and baron, squire, and plutocrat
were wont to loose their purse strings in honour of
the season, and make such a right royal fosst that well
nigh everybody experienced the pangs of disordered
digestion. The blood of our sweaters is in our veins
still, and many among us would, if speaking truly,
say that their highest ideal of Christinastide—apart
from the sacred associations of the season—is that it
ought to be a time when every man, woman, and
child in the land, should have food and drink and en-
tertainment in plenty, with such accompaniments of
appropriate jollity as would drive care and want and •
sorrow out of sight for one day, at least, in the year.
The revels and feasts of olden Christmases in England
were on a vaster, more centralised scale, than ours are.
The dinner at the manor-house, to which the lord
invited every tenant and all the serving fo'k, was
always a very extensive feast, and if the Christmas
cheer beneath which the table groaned was not cooked
and dressed by the cunning French and Italian hands
to whose tenderness fastidious Britons trust their
stomachs in Victorian days, the fare was substantial
and served up with pomp and magnificence. In the
long ago to which we would look back Charles Dickens
had not penned that glorious 'carol' of his which set
agoing the good fashion of turkey giving; even the
older vogue of goose eating at Christmas was far from
general until a comparatively recent period. But the
big boar's head, gaily garlanded and bravely bedecked
with hay and rosemary, was an indispensable dish
when the ascetic chiefs of the Commonwealth did their
best to kill Christmas. The terribly tucked brawner '
with its unfailing accompanying condiment of
mustard, had the place of honour in the stately pro-
cession to the Christmastide banqueting tables. Sturdy
Oliver's enmity to festal mirth was not potent enough
to destroy the Englishman's love of the day-of-all-days
in the calendar; but the boar's head never again re-
covered its pre-Puritan popularity. Almost as far back
as the page of the antiquary can take us, roast beef
has been a favourite food in these Wee, an everyday
dish, so to speak; but at Christmas it appeared in
Royal ' baron ' guise. Then the peacock was never
absent from the Christmas table of the stomach-loving
lords of Tudor and Stuart times. A skilled taxider-
mist stripped off the bird's skin, with all the brilliant
plumage undisturbed. The noble fowl was roasted
with tender • care, plumply stuffed with spices and
sweet herbs, sewed up again in the sheeny feathers,
and with gilded beak served in a sea of richest gravy,
ths carving being delicately done by the most dis-
tinguished of the lady guests. On occasion the bird
of magnificent tail was baked in a pie, as students of
Shakespeare who call to mind a favourite oath of
Justice Shallow will remember. Fat capons and
pheasants drowned in ambergris were frequently met
with among the 'cheer' of all Christmases; as were
also pies of calf's tongue and venison, and many
other inviting viands, including the luscious little
sucking porker, roasted whole. But foriner time
Christmas tables always lied a good gracing of con-
coctions sacred to the season to supplement the more
substantial and showy dishes. Furmerty was of first
Importance among these; not the simple arid whole-
some creed' wheat which our grandmothers loved,
but a more pretentious compound. The finest wheat
was taken and brayed in a mortar, until the pestle bad
dissolved the partnership aforetime existing between
husk and kernel. All the chaff having been removed,
the:clean wheat was set to seethe in a big pot, and in
due course carefully put to cool. Next fresh broth
and a mingling of the milk of almonds was added, or
rich milk from the dairy did service instead. The
yolks of eggs were introduced, and after a boiling
process in which Elizabethan cooks excelled, the whole
was 'messed forth' with fat venison or mutton. Now
and then the broth' would be omitted, and the
furmerty eaten alone with a sweetening of sugar.
Three hundred years ago, the precursors of the still
popular mince pies which one sees everywhere at
Christmas, mutton or 'shred' pies, as they were some-
times called, were much eaten at this season, and then
every pie was symbolical, being cradle-shaped in
memory of the manger bed of the child Christ at
Bethlehem. Now not even the neat's tongue which
succeeded shredded sheep's flesh is much used in
mince-pie making, and hardly one pie in a hundred
has any meaning in its presentment. When the
womenfolk are preparing the Christmas cheer, and
ptsce an occasional oval pie among the many round
ones, how few of them have any idea that therein is a
relique of the cradle (or coffin,' as old cookery books
occasionally call it), crust of the mince pies of so long
ago? That friend of doctor and druggist which every
Christmas calls into being in increasing quantity, I
mean the plum pudding, is a survival of a dish dear
to Englishmen of other days. Plumb-porridge—a very
different compound from the frugal oatmeal fare of
the Scottish breakfast table—was as much the forego 'r
of the universal plum pudding of to day as pork and
the fat goose were the predecessors of the greet joints
of beef and the pretentious turkey in favour as
Christmas edibles. But even when plum-pudding had
become very nearly what plum-pudding is now,
plumb porridge had alliance with the soups. There
was a ginger-flavoured go-between known as prune-
pudding, which was a sort of batter; but plumb-
porridge the traditional, one as characteristic a
Christmas dish as any, was fearfully and wonderfully
made. I have a transcript of a recipe written by a
master of the culinary art at the time of the French
Revolution, which gourmets may rely on es perfection
—a full and particular direction for the manufacture
of the plumb-porridge as it was in its palmiest days.
Be it premised that this delicacy, of which our fore-
fathers were so fond, was really a solidified soup, kept
cold in the larder, and cut off from time to time as
wanted, and warmed in the needed quantity, being
diluted for use, somewhat similar to the way in which
mockturtle is dealt with now. Here is the modus
operandi of the kitchen emperor who flourished long
before Francatelli or even his celebrated teacher
Careme—and this maker of matchless plumb-porridge
founded his method on a most careful collation of the
practices of all the cookswho had enjoyed fame before
his time as preparers of this particular delicacy: Take
a leg and shin of beef. Put them into eight gallons
of water, and boil them until the meat is quite tender.
When the broth is strong strain it off, shake out the
meat, and put the broth again into the pot. Slice
six small loaves or plain buns thin, cutting off the
tops and bottoms, put some of the liquor to them,
cover them over, and lot them soak for a quarter of
an hour; then boil and strain and put into your pot.
When the preparation has boiled for a short time, put
in five pounds of stewed raisins of the sun, and two
pounds of prunes. After this has boiled a quarter of
an hour put in five pounds of currants, clean, washed,
and picked. Let these boil till they swell, and then
put in three quarters of an ounce of mace, half an
ounce of cloves, and two nutmegs, all beaten fine.
Before you put these into the pot, mix them with a
little cold liquor, and put them in but a short time
before the whole is done. When you take off the pot
put in three pounds of sugar, a little salt, a quart of
sack, a quart of claret, and the juice of two or three
Lemons. If you think proper, instead of using bread
you may thicken with sago. Pour your porridge into
earthen pans, and keep it for use.' I trust none of
my fair readers will be tempted to follow this elaborate
formula, or the result may be more terrible to some
poor dyspeptic brother, husband, or uncle that even
the nightmare-producting Christmas pudding comrcen
to this country in our own times. To the strong of
stomach, however, a good sized 'square' of this
'porridge' should have sustaining power for a hard
day's tramp in heavy marching military order. Hereto
I have spoken of some of the edib'es in especial favour
at Christmastide. I shall not proceed to the drinks
which have been associated with the season, because
space does not permit. But six hundred years ago
Christmas loved good drinking,' as it does now, so
an old ballad writer tells. Even then—

Every neighbour shared the bowl,
Drank of the spicy liquor deep;
Drank his fill without control,
Till he drowned his care in sleep.'
Unlimited liquor was the rule at old Christmas feast-
jugs; and ages before Father Mathew had raised the
temperance banner or the word 'teetotal' had been
added to the English tongue, roystering and carousing
succeeded eating to the full at Christmastide much
more commonly than they do, I am happy to say, at
this comparatively moderate and enlightened period.
The strongest of drinks like the rarest and richest of
viands, were always reserved for consumption at
Christmas.—T. Broadbent Trowsdale, in the Hull
Christmas Annual.

WHAT part of a locomotive requires the most atten-
tion P—The " tender " part.
WHAT word contains all the vowels, and in their
proper order ?—Facetious.
WHY may a person playing at blindman's buff be
considered to Possess benevolent sympathies ?
Because he feels for his fellow-creatures.
WHY is a new- born baby like a gale of wind?—
Because it begins with a squall.
WHAT man never turns to the left ?—A wheel-
wright.
WHAT was Joan of Arc made of ?—She was "Maid
of Orleans."
WHEN is a man thinner than a lath P—When he's
a shaving.
WHY are cowardly soldiers like butter 7—Because
when exposed to fire they run.
WHY is an accepted suitor like a person guilty of
a crime P—Because he ought to be transported.
CHRISTMAS trees am n looking 'Truce. Children pine
after them.
WHY are your nose and chin always at varianse ?
—Because words are continually passing between
them.

CHRISTMAS IN THE POST OFFICE.
(BY I LETTER-SORTER.)

There is certainly no public institution in the world
more affected by the season of Christmas than the
General Post Office. For some weeks before the
actual season commences evidence of its near
approach is seen in the steady increase of correspon-
dence of all descriptions; atid with every mail arrival
the sorting-tables are plentifully besprinkled with
Christmas annuals, Christmas trade announcements,
Christmas samples of all sorts.
But the great influx of legitimate Christmas corre-
spondence begins about two days before the important
25th. It is then that each of the various sorting
branches assume a strange, and, perhaps, to unofficial
eyes, a bewildering appearance of bustle.
Wherever one turns, there are long tables loaded
with great white heaps and bundles of letters, etc.,
and, from the middle of each, there rises a saperstrue-
tura of either shelves or pigeon-holes.
The sorters stand in almost regimental order on
both sides of these tAbles„ while there is a continual
clockwork-like movement of hundreds of busy arms
as the letters or pAckages are placed into their labelled
topographical divisions.
Porters and collectors are darting hither and
thither; there is a confused Babel of sounds arising
from the hundreds of obliterating or stamping
machines at work, together with the shouting of the
overseers and the hum of subdued conversation from
the numerous army who are .nerrily conversing while
they as busily sort.
The very atmosphere itself is suggestive of the
festive season, for it is redolent with the mingled
perfumes from the hundreds of thousands of pack-
ages containing aromatic delicacies or spicy confec-
tions, besides the untold number of scented Christmas
cards which, everywhere about the office, are piled in
great baskets or carefully tied into bundles and
built up in monumental heaps awaiting disposal.
This may be taken as a general description of
almost every branch; but it is to the great Inland
Letter Branch we must turn to view the most im-
portant section of the work.
Firstly, then, the bag-opening tables receive all
provincial mails, and here the rough sortation is
gone through, such as dividing the lighter from the
heavier correspondence, checking and receiving
register-bags, &c. These tables at all times afford,
perhaps, one of tne most interesting sights in the
office.

But at the Christmas season they present an espe-
cially attractive appearance, by reason of the heaps
of oed and curious articles and packets which come
to hand, sent through the post probably as presents
commemorative of the time of year.
Often, too, some little merriment is canoed among
the receiving officers by the sudden turning out of
some comical novelty disengaged from its torn oover-
ing, or some strange article in the way of a toy with
a label loosely attached to it, as for instance, a big
jack-in-the-box, or perhaps a htige doll found sitting
bolt upright amid the miscellaneous heaps.
Of course all damaged or wounded are at once
carried off to the "hospital," as the sealing table is
by some facetiously called, and tenderly submitted to
surgical tmatment. Here also the lost doll wili pro-
bably be put in the way of finding her home, and the
snrightlyjack-in-the-box will be secured and promptly
sent about his business.

It is worthy of remark that at the Christmas season
the foreign and colonial mails are more than usually
numerous and heavy, the correspondence brought by
them being, however, mostly of the Christmas-card
kind.

- . i There s something of more than ordinary interest
attaching to these thousands of bright mottoes and
gladsome greetings from absent ones, which have
come from sunny lands, and over the wide seas, just
in time to revive pleasant memories and contribute
happiness to many a British home on wintry Christmas
morn.
Indeed, of late years fully two-thirds of the im-
mense correspondence, both British and foreign, re-
ceived and despatched in this office consists of the
many varieties of Christmas cards. It appears that
this pretty custom is fast becoming a permanent and
almost universal one, for from every civilised part of
the world, and seemingly from all sorts and con-
ditions of people, these beautiful pictorial "compli-
ments of the season" literally pour in with every
mail.
It would seem that the sending of Christmas and
New Year cards is fast superseding the kindred cus-
tom of St. Valentine's Day, which latter, judging
officially by its gradual decline, will probably die out
entirely in a few years.
Hundreds of curious and interesting specimens of
these cards come to hand in the process of sortation,
and among such may be mentioned the many designs
having reference to "Hard times," which have been
published these last three or four years.
Strips of coarse brown paper partly burnt, old paper
collars, and even shirt-fronts, cork boot-soles, and
scraps of leather, all bearing some artistically funny
sketch or appropriate motto are now quite common.
At the sealing-tables, too, where broken packets
are dealt with, others of this class are often come
across; and cardboard boxes containing, for instance,
burnt cigar ends, embossed pictures of old boots or
patched and tattered garments, together with that
osseous part of the goose known as the "wishing
bone," all suitably inscribed with seasonable wishes,
compliments, etc., are met with constantly.
The amenities of Post Office life are at this time of
year often displayed in an exceedingly pleasant
fashion, for from various provincial offices hundreds
of miles away, even from Ireland, Scotland, and
Wales, official Christmas cards with sometimes
poetical greetings and in many instances the photos
of the senders, are received at the chief office in
London almost hourly; and for weeks after the
"notice board" in each branch presents the appear-
ance of a pretty picture gallery.
It may possibly interest the public to know that
the usual strict official discipline is somewhat relased
at this season when all the world is making merry:
for by the time the arduous daty is finished- on
Christmas morning the great majority of the force
will have been working for twenty or perhaps thirty
consecutive hours. The great clock clanging out the
hour of twelve on Christmat Eve is usually the signal
for a simultaneous and general burst of cheering, and
by many the Christmas morn is heralded by carol-
singing or snatches of "Auld Lang Syne."
Almost immediately there is an interval in the duty,
and the three or four thousand officers comprising the
entire force merrily troop off to their gaily-decorated
"kitchens" and locker-rooms, there to refresh them-
themselves, and afterwards to keep up the occasion
by a musical entertainment during the one, or perhaps
two, hours' grace allowed them, when band selections,
songs, and recitations are freely indulged in.
The office once more assuming its busy appearance,
the great rampart-like masses and mountains of piled-
up mail bags are again attacked and gradually eaten
into as though by so many thousands of voracious
locusts.

By eight or nine o'clock everything is cleared before
them, and scarcely a vestige of the long night's
tremendcius task remains.—" lit Bits" Christmas
Number.