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'A merry Kismas! he repeated, returning Freda's kisses by pulling off her night-cap, and letting down her long hair before she knew what he was about. 'Now, I'll dive 'ou to Tewey. 'Master Harold! don't, sir! said the nurse. But Master Harold was jumping on the pillow behind his sister, making reins of her hair and horses of her head in no very gentle fashion.
I see that "Frank Leslie's Illustrated Weekly" of December 20th has a highly imaginative picture of the muster-in of our first company, and also of a skirmish on the late expedition. I must not forget the prayer overheard last night by one of the captains: "O Lord! when I tink ob dis Kismas and las' year de Kismas. Las' Kismas he in de Secesh, and notin' to eat but grits, and no salt in 'em.
She was, however, aroused on the blessed morning of Christmas Day by something that was very real. 'A merry Kismas, sister Freda, shouted a sharp little voice into her ear, and before her eyes were half opened brisk little feet were stamping at her bedside, and the same voice authoritatively enouncing, 'Put me up, Dane, I 'ull be put up.
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