There never was such a Christmas dinner as they had that day. The fat turkey was a sight to behold, when Hannah sent him up, stuffed, browned, and decorated; so was the plum-pudding, which quite melted in one’s mouth; likewise the jellies, in which Amy revelled like a fly in a honeypot. Everything turned out well, which was a mercy, Hannah said, “For my mind was that flustered, mum, that it’s a merrycle I didn’t roast the pudding, and stuff the turkey with raisins, let alone bilin’ of it in a cloth.”