“That is because she has no French teacher, papa and you know I do not allow her to speak the island patois, lest it should corrupt the little she knows.” “What spelling! The English is bad, but the French worse.” “Do not rob yourself, child,” said the father, wearily casting his eyes over the slip of paper again. (But has she not, thou unsuspicious elder sister?) That will be the very thing for Tita she has not even seen it.” “Miss Lois gave me some last month I had forgotten it. “Think of her faith in Santa Klaus, old as she is, and her writing to ask him! But there is ribbon in the house, after all,” she added, suddenly, her face brightening. But I can not make ribbons,” she added, regretfully, as though she found herself wanting in a needful accomplishment. “Poor little thing! she is so proud of her hair, and all the other girls have bright ribbons. “She wants some ribbons for her hair,” said Anne, making out the words over his shoulder. As he spoke he held Tita’s epistle hopelessly before him, and scanned the zig-zag lines. “Can you make out what the child means?” said Douglas, as his elder daughter entered the study early on Christmas morning to renew the fire and set the apartment in order for the day. The damsel donned her kirtle sheen The hall was dressed with holly green Forth to the wood did merry-men go, To gather in the mistletoe.”-WALTER SCOTT. “ Heap on more wood! the wind is chill But let it whistle as it will, We’ll keep our Christmas merry still.
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