written just after her death and was a simple request that he might
be buried by her side. One thing he questioned the rector anxiously
about: as to whether in the Better Country we would know each other.
The letter was delivered and the next day baby's father and mother
came to see her old friend. He was fast going, and lay with his eyes
closed. Somehow, it seemed to cross his mind that they would know, and
as they were leaving, he said, "You think I'll know the little one?
Oh, I hope I will know her." After he was buried, adds the writer, we
found some of her broken toys in his desk, and a list, written way
back in the fall, of Christmas gifts to buy for her.

Has he seen her again? It cannot be that the loving Father has not
taken this simple hearted of His by the hand and led him to the little
one who went before. And that in this blessed Christmas time, in that
far off and better land, listening to the songs of angels and gazing
at the glories of a brighter world, there walk, once more, hand in
hand, the Major and his Last Love.




OBSERVATIONS OF A RETIRED VETERAN V


The people are taking their vacation--an imposing three-syllable name
for a very tiny slice of holiday taken off an immense lump of work.
Of all the impositions that I know, this vacation business, in the way
we take it, is greatest. Somehow, by some inexplicable way, it has
grown into a custom with men who have business, to understand that a
vacation means two weeks, fourteen days, out of three hundred and