Now to proceed a little further with my narrative.

Christmas was a time which I knew not how to fill up.  I wanted to be jolly and to make some festive difference in the usual routine of my daily life and fare, but with no companion I found it a very difficult task, even to make myself believe it really was Christmas time.

I made a plum pudding which had scarcely the consistence to hang together when I rolled it out of the cloth; but that mattered little, as a broken pudding required less muscular activity for the jaws.  The main point was the flavour; it was not at all bad.  Tinned beef, potatoes, tomatoes, a cauliflower, a rabbit pie, walnuts, and apples formed my Christmas dinner, which was washed down by a bottle of Bass I had reserved as a special Christmas treat.  I drank the health of my absent friends, and even gave three cheers for the King of Jethou—­myself.

To make the season appear as Christmassy as possible I cudgelled my brain for a whole week, and composed what I am pleased to call

A CHRISTMAS CAROL.[3]

In olden time a child was born
In Bethlehem the holy;
Mary was the mother’s name,
Who lay in manger lowly

Refrain—­Sing, happy Virgin, mother mild;
Sing, Joseph, father blessed;
Sing, angels, shepherds, men so wise,
For this thy Lord confessed.

And as she in the manger lay,
Beside the stalled cattle,
A throng of shepherds entered in
To hear the childish prattle.

The shepherds low obeisance made,
Before the manger kneeling,
As thro’ the casement’s open space
The star’s bright ray came stealing.

     The winged angel choir stood by,
       Their carol sweet a-singing;
     While men of wisdom from the East,
       Drew near, their offerings bringing.

     Then from the clouds was heard a voice,
       This message earthward sending,
     “Peace rest upon the earth so fair,
       Good-will ’twixt men ne’er ending.”

Although the lines seemed to go very well, I had great difficulty in hitting upon a suitable tune; but when once I did fit the verses to a composition of my own, I howled it from morning till night all over the island.  The very animals and birds must have been satiated with it.  Possibly they would gladly have exchanged Christmas for Easter, or some other church festival, just for the sake of variety and change of tune.

One misty morning at the end of February, I was standing near the old cannon, chopping firewood wherewith to heat my oven, for it was my weekly baking day, when I saw a boat containing two men coming through the Crevichon channel towards the house.  One was pulling, and the other, who sat in the stern sheets, waved a white flag or handkerchief upon a stick, to attract my attention.  I noticed them as soon as they did me, and waved in return, making signs for them not to land.