looked up
to as having the best memory for dates at home.

"Himmel!" he exclaimed. "What day do you think it is?"

"I'm sure I can't imagine," replied Eric. "All the days go alike here;
why, it seems more than a year already since good Captain Brown left us,
although I know it's only a few months."

"Only, think, Eric, it is--"

"No, never!" said the lad, interrupting his brother and guessing that
the answer he was going to give would confirm his own conjecture. "It
cannot be, really, eh?"

While saying this, Eric stopped abruptly as they were entering the
little grove of buckthorn trees, where the thrushes and finches were
hopping about amongst their branches as merry as grigs in the sunshine;
for, the weather was as warm as our June, although it was then
December--the seasons in southern latitudes being the reverse of what we
are accustomed to in Europe.

"Yes, you've guessed right, laddie," replied Fritz, looking into his
face with a smile. "It is, without doubt, Christmas Day!"

"What, to-day?" said Eric, incredulous in spite of himself.

"Yes, to-day," repeated his brother.

"Well, that is wonderful!" exclaimed Eric; adding a moment afterwards,
however, in a tone of the greatest dismay, "only think, though, we
haven't prepared a Christmas tree, or anything!"

"Never mind," said Fritz consolingly. "Those sort of arrangements for
the festival would be a little out of place here."

"Would they?" cried Eric. "Ah, we'll see about that!"

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

FRITZ GOES HUNTING.

After his last remark, Eric, silent for a little while, as if buried in
deep thought, followed behind his brother to the garden patch, which was
found in the most flourishing state.

The potatoes were all in full flower and the haulms of sturdy growth
promised well for the crop of tubers beneath, some indeed being already
half withered, as if fit for digging; while pods were thick on the two
rows of peas planted, and the scarlet runners were a mass of bloom and
brilliancy.

At such a glorious sight, Eric could remain silent no longer.

"This is capital," he exclaimed in high delight; "why, we've got a
regular harvest, brother!"

"Yes, the great Mother Earth has rewarded our exertions," said Fritz
thoughtfully. "It is wonderful how she yields to those who cultivate
her properly! I can see that we'll have bushels of potatoes--enough to
last us through the winter."

"Aye, and peas and beans, too," chorussed Er