Although it seemed like northern spring weather, some days being quite chilly, and others warm enough for summer clothes, we awoke one morning to the fact that to-morrow would be Christmas. It had seemed to us, since our arrival in St. Augustine, as if we were in a foreign country, the Spanish element was so large in proportion to the rest of the town, both in the people and their customs and in the arrangement and the construction of the city. We heard of the celebration of midnight Mass in the old Cathedral, and resolved to "assist;" but, as the evening came on crisp and chilly, our enthusiasm cooled with it. The tonic qualities of the unaccustomed salt air had inspired us with a keen interest in food and sleep; so, after fully deciding to sit up for the Mass, we were ready by half-past nine to declare that there was not a sight in the world worth the sacrifice of such a night's sleep as that for which we felt ready. So we embarked for dreamland, whence we were recalled at daylight by Bruno's excitement over a perfect din of tin trumpets and toy drums. As we dressed, we peeped through the blinds at the processions of small boys marching by in the narrow streets below, blowing trumpets and pounding drums. The daily drills at the barracks in the old city made all the small boys of the town even more ambitious than small boys usually are to be soldiers. Apparently, every one of them had sent Santa Claus a petition to bring him something warlike for a Christmas present. Julius delighted Bruno by taking him out and buying him a paper of candy, which he ate with much relish; then we three sat on the upper piazza on which our room opened, listening to the music and watching the processions. It was a very strange Christmas to all three of us. The air was pleasantly warm, and green things, with roses and other flowers, were in sight in all directions. As soon as Christmas had passed, we, with that feeling of having turned a corner, common at such times, began to hasten our preparations to go on South. We had inspected various tracts of land around St. Augustine, but had not found anything to which we felt particularly drawn. It seemed rather odd, too, to come South intending to pioneer, and then to settle in or near what the old sergeant at the Fort assured us was the oldest city in the Union. We felt that we must, at all events, see what the wilder parts of the State were like before deciding; so we soon found ourselves speeding away again towards "Decoy," to catch the boat for a little station away down South, up the river, which was then the only route to a small settlement in the mid-lake country, where a relative was living, who had urged us to see his part of Florida before deciding on anything.