A GARDEN DIARY 67 



upon it. I wish with all my heart that he would 

 lend us each a piece of it. We want it badly. 

 Pray heaven and all its saints that we may none 

 of us ever need it much worse than we do this 

 Christmas-day, 1899! 



CHRISTMAS-DAY, 4 P.M. 



OINCE luncheon I have been to see a neigh- 

 *^ bour, in the vague hope that some fresh war 

 news might have arrived this morning. There 

 was none of course, and I walked home again 

 between banks of withered bracken and trailing 

 bramble, under the big tree-hollies, glistening 

 all over their surfaces with a thousand reminders 

 of Christmas, and of its gifts. England is so 

 big, and old, and sensible that she does not 

 generally care about Christmas presents, but 

 there is one present that, I take it, she would 

 dearly like to have to-day. Shiploads of holly, 

 forests of mistletoe are hers for the asking, but 

 that one little leaf of victor's laurel that she 

 wants so badly, that she would so gladly pin upon 

 that broad breast of hers, this, it seems, is denied 

 her. It may come to-morrow. It must, we all, 

 not alone Cuttle, feel convinced, come before long, 

 but it will not come in time for her Christmas- 

 box. 



