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. 
GINCE 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 victors 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. 
