_Vailima_, _December_ 5, 1893.
MY DEAREST CUMMY,—This goes to you with a Merry Christmas and a Happy New
Year. The Happy New Year anyway, for I think it should reach you about
_Noor’s Day_. I dare say it may be cold and frosty. Do you remember
when you used to take me out of bed in the early morning, carry me to the
back windows, show me the hills of Fife, and quote to me.
‘A’ the hills are covered wi’ snaw,
An’ winter’s noo come fairly’?
There is not much chance of that here! I wonder how my mother is going
to stand the winter. If she can, it will be a very good thing for her.
We are in that part of the year which I like the best—the Rainy or
Hurricane Season. ‘When it is good, it is very, very good; and when it
is bad, it is horrid,’ and our fine days are certainly fine like heaven;
such a blue of the sea, such green of the trees, and such crimson of the
hibiscus flowers, you never saw; and the air as mild and gentle as a
baby’s breath, and yet not hot!
The mail is on the move, and I must let up.—With much love, I am, your
laddie,