The wind howls around here, and the snow is above the fences. We walk on it with snow shoes. My love to Papa. Could you send me some alligator's eggs? Your loving son, BOLAX. * * * * * PALM BEACH, December. _My Noble, Generous Boy_: Your letter touched Papa to the heart, but there will be no necessity for your making such a sacrifice. It would grieve me to have my child so far away from home, without the means for having a pleasant Christmas. Uncle wrote to say he would attend to your holiday pleasures, and Papa now sends ten dollars. We laughed so heartily at your description of how the butter was washed for your benefit. Dearie, do you remember the stories old Colonel O'Brien used to tell us of his campaign during the Civil War? How once he was nearly forty-eight hours without food, and was glad to eat an old piece of ham-fat, which he saw a darkey throw out on the grass as he rode past? Colonel told us it was the spirit of self-control he had learned while at College that enabled him to bear hunger, cold, privations of all kinds, while in the army. Of course, the food is not expected to be as dainty as at home, but it is always wholesome; no Catholic College would give bad food to the children entrusted to its care. I tried to get the alligator's eggs, but the darkies tell me that it is a hard matter to find them; one old fellow told me: "Dem ugly beasteses loves dere young like de dogs and cats do, dey hide dere eggs and watches round when de time comes for de little ones to be hatched out; you don't better be near at dat time hunten' eggs or young ones, de mudder would snap you up in half a minute." I have some curious shells which I will give you when I see you; they would only be destroyed among so many boys, if I sent them. Pray for Papa, not forgetting your loving mother. P. S.--You ask me to describe Palm Beach, so I send the advertising pamphlet. The description given therein is a perfect pen-picture of the place, much better than I can give. I am Papa's amanuensis and he has so many business letters to send I have little time for other writing, with love, MAMMA. * * * * * DECEMBER 29. _Bien Chère Maman_: Such a happy Christmas as I have had. At midnight I was awakened by the Parish Church bells chiming the Adeste Fidelis. The Midnight Mass was celebrated in the College Chapel, because the snow is so deep, Monsieur Le Curé had announced to the Congregation that the grand High Mass would be at 6 A. M. in the Parish Church. I assisted at the Mass in the Chapel. It was my first Midnight Mass, and I felt awed by the solemn ceremony. The grand High Mass was sung by four gentlemen from Quebec. Brother would not let me get up for it, but I attended Vespers in the evening; they had the same choir as at the morning service, with a band of music.