84 CHRISTMAS 



the breeze until long after the train has disap- 

 peared from sight. 



Thus the busy days pass by, and gradually the 

 names upon our roster list become fewer as one 

 by one they are erased, until only the six faithful 

 ones remain who have decided to postpone their 

 holidays until after Christmas. These are wanted 

 to keep watch over the plants, for, like children in 

 a nursery, they need constant care and vigilance. 



Much shopping has to be done, and I am often 

 surprised at the number of little neat, white 

 packages, tied up with College ribbon, that I see 

 emerging from the house. Upon inquiry, I am 

 told, " Oh, the whole village is getting presents, 

 for all the students' landladies must, of course, be 

 thought of in return for the care they have be- 

 stowed upon their young lodgers." 



It is upon the rounded slopes of the downs that 

 most resemblance is to be found to our human 

 ideas of the first peaceful Christmas, and even this 

 exceptional year, so full of turmoil and grief, has 

 not removed the likeness. As I look from a dis- 

 tance towards Mount Caburn a small speck of 

 drab is noticeable slowly moving in ever-varying 

 shape across the grey-green turf. To the rear of 

 it is one dot of black, which moves forward, oc- 

 casionally remains stationary, and then resumes 

 a forward movement, as if accompanying the 

 coloured speck. It is the shepherd with his 

 sheep, and he is continually selecting the warm, 

 sheltered bends and undulations of ground, so 

 that his flock, the drab-coloured object, can graze 

 in warmth. With him goes a shaggy-haired, grey- 



