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How have I puzzled over Mr and Mrs Wil-
	liston,
Old friends and good! but only rhyme with
	philistine.
If Ritchie were a lad who �travels on his
	muscle,
How nicely I could manage the name of Rus-
	sell!
Whom every Christmas night we�re glad to meet,
Without whom Christmas wouldn�t be complete.
Besides all these good friends, before I�d done
I was to welcome Mr Eurich and his son;
And many people more with us connected,
Jack said, were more than half-expected.
For them I was to leave some lines in blank,
To full up as we fill up checks in bank.

And now before this rigmarole I close,
A line or two I�ll consecrate to those
Whom a whole continent and ocean wide,
From our circle only, not our hearts divide,
Our absent friends! however distant, they
Are near to us and we to them, to-day.
From friends in England, Christmas day
	has fled
The banquet over, they�re digesting it in bed;