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I'm so glad it's white. Any other kind of Christmas doesn't seem real, does it? I don't like green Christmases. They're not green they're just nasty faded browns and greys. What makes people call them green? Why why Matthew, is that for me? Oh, Matthew!"
"No, I do like Christmas on the whole," she announced. "In its clumsy way, it does approach Peace and Goodwill. But oh, it is clumsier every year." "Is it? I am only used to country Christmases."
When Christmas came again Susan did not set any vacant places at the festive board. Two empty chairs were too much even for Susan who had thought in September that there would not be one. "This is the first Christmas that Walter was not home," Rilla wrote in her diary that night. "Jem used to be away for Christmases up in Avonlea, but Walter never was. I had letters from Ken and him today.
"I dined well, and recalled in fancy old, youthful Christmases, and pledged mentally many an old friend, and my melancholy was mellowing into a low, sad undertone, when, just as I was raising a glass of wine to my lips, I was startled by a picture at the window-pane. It was a pale, wild, haggard face, in a great cloud of black hair, pressed against the glass. As I looked it vanished.
I've spent ten Thanksgivings, and ten Christmases, and ten New Years in hotels. Hell has no terrors for me." They were walking down the corridor together. "Take me along please!" pleaded T. A. Buck, like a boy. "I know all about flats, and gas-stoves, and meters, and plumbing, and everything!" "You!" scoffed Emma McChesney, "with your five-story house and your summer home in the mountains!"
I called to the dragoman, and said: "Imam, Hassan won't bring up my donkey." Imam looked at him a moment in silence, then with a lightning slap on the cheek he laid him flat in the sand. I was horrified. But to my amazement Hassan hopped up and began to kiss my sleeve and to apologize, saying, "Very good lady. Bad donkey-boy. Hassan sorry. Very good lady." We have had three Christmases this year.
Of course you spent Christmas at the old home in England one of those yule-log and plum-pudding Christmases you read of in novels. You Englishmen " "My dear Sanderson, don't call me English! I've told you a dozen times that I'm not English." "So you did; so you did!
The good cheer enjoyed on this merriest day of the year. How the little people look forward to it. It comes to the older ones as a joy, and yet tender and sad with the memories of other Christmases. The religious and the secular elements of the day. The countries where it is most observed. The long contest between the two days, Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Honora sat up in bed, shivering with cold and delight. "Is it awake ye are, darlint, and it but four o'clock the morn!" "What are you doing, Cathy?" "Musha, it's to Mass I'm going, to ask the Mother of God to give ye many happy Christmases the like of this, Miss Honora." And Catherine's arms were about her. "Oh, it's Christmas, Cathy, isn't it? How could I have forgotten it!"
"Here I am, over by the chimney." "Oh, now I see you!" said the Horse. "But what is the matter? Are you so very old?" "Oh, yes, I am almost five Christmases old," was the answer. "My two legs are broken, and one of my arms, and the spring by which I used to jump is all worn out. So, as I am no longer of any use in this world, I am in the Attic Home.
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