DECEMBER 



Dec. 'T^HIS is the Day of the Unconquered 

 2 5' jL Sun dies invicti solis. To-day seems 

 to justify the patristic choice of Christ's birthday 

 anniversary, for we have been rejoicing in the sun's 

 glorious brilliancy since early dawn, and there is 

 even warmth in his rays. 



My labours of Christmas are at an end. I have 

 tied up, labelled, and myself distributed parcels to 

 two hundred and ten children and old people, not 

 forgetting the shepherd in the distant field known 

 as Cunnigaw Hill since the Saxon days when 

 perhaps a king owned it. It is always the 

 shepherds who are apt to be forgotten at times 

 of rejoicing, and a special effort is entailed to 

 provide some pleasure for them. The season's 

 responsibilities and the day's duties being alike well 

 over, I can spend an hour in the greenhouse before 

 darkness drives me indoors. It is weeks since 

 I have been able to give a whole hour to my plants, 

 and I know no greater refreshment to the tired 

 mind and body than to get away into their company 

 and pore over every growing stem and leaf and 

 note their rate of progress and their prospects of 

 a speedy delivery of their tender blossoms. 



December is a month when every bloom is valu- 



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