The half hour before dinner, 1871. ...when half-past seven is marked by the gilt Paris clock on the mantelpiece, while the summons to walk into the dining-room is still delayed, it must be confessed that the power of dulness is heavily laid upon such a company as our Artist presents...The moment he has chosen...is one about to break the spell of commonplace stupidity and decorous apathy, by the coming announcement of a domestic disaster. This mishap may even relieve the spirits of those who can laugh at the loss of good victuals...The boy in buttons, or page...has just approached Mrs. Fiddings with a message of dismay from the frightened cook outside the drawing-room door. A volcanic eruption in the kitchen chimney, at the moment when the soup and boiled fish were removed from the fire, and when the roasts were approaching perfection, has brought down a vast quantity of soot, with clouds of foul smoke, and spoiled the fine Christmas turkey...which was to have figured at the head of the table. We are really sorry for the lady of the house, as she hastens out to meet and confer with poor Martha on the best means of mending the repast...The only comfortable creature in this party is the cat upon a soft stool before the drawing-room fire. From "Illustrated London News", 1871.