Page:New Brunswick Magazine Issue 1.djvu/394

the festival. Most old fellows carried doughnuts about in their pockets, and ate them at all sorts of unseasonable hours, and I have heard of some of the old families who made them by the barrel!

But the principal party was old Dinah, the cook. She was in her glory. Fat, and at ordinary times the soul of good nature, on this occasion, under the weight of the responsibilities put upon her, and to uphold the reputation of her master's house for gastronomic superiority, she became a very tyrant in her domain; none dare dispute her orders, or suggest changes or improvements in her dishes. They simply became humble assistants in the great work of preparation for the Christmas dinner. And this dependence was well repaid when the festal day arrived and the products of her culinary art were proudly placed on the table, and elicited delighted encomiums from all who partook of them, but her greatest reward was when the old master turned to her and said, "Well done, Dinah!"

Early on Christmas morning, the young men assembled in some open field and tried their skill as marksmen by shooting at live turkeys buried to the neck in the snow, leaving the head only visible. Their guns were old flint muskets, which formerly had done service in the war of the Revolution across the border. The range for shooting was about 30 or 40 yards, so the unfortunate turkeys had a poor show for their lives, but as the killing of them was the main object of the gathering it is to be hoped the aim was generally good. Sixpence or a shilling was the price usually paid for a shot, and some of the crack ones generally brought home two or three birds as a result of their skill. These sports came down to modern times, they were quite in vogue forty or more years ago, and may still be practised in some country districts.

The older people, before church time, visited each