t
because of the awful aftermath. Numbers were ill, very ill, indeed; and
it was a blessing, all things considered, that none were dead. In the
camps, life, although boisterous, was not exactly merry; but it was a
Christmas, as was afterwards declared with chivalrous unanimity, than
which nobody had ever spent a better. Nobody had ever felt so sick the
next morning, and that was most likely the standard by which the measure
of the merriment was gauged.

His Excellency's congratulations were the innocent cause of a little
friction. Had it not been for _his_ example the "compliments of the
season" might have been left unsaid; good taste and good sense would
have conspired to let them lapse. There was something incongruous about
wishing a man a happy Christmas. Let a man be ever so sympathetic and
cordial; let him mean--not wisely but too well; let his accents ring
true as steel: it was still difficult to convince one that there was no
suggestion of sarcasm in the greeting. But the Governor had changed the
situation; he had set the fashion--had reminded us that the fashion with
its conventions and courtesies was an element, a blessing, of our
civilisation; and that we were not permanently outside the pale. It was
nevertheless trying to be taken by the hand and wished "a merry
Christmas" by every brazen Napper Tandy in the town. It was, as I have
said, all the fault of the Governor; the custom was adhered to in
deference to His Excellency rather than with _malice prepense_ on the
part of a friend to indulge in wanton candour. There _were_ monsters who
out of sheer, crass good nature did offend; but even they took care to
couple with their "remarks" an apologetic laugh, which was intended to
convey that the joke, though carried far, was just a joke. The wags--the
species was not yet extinct--were especially felicitous. They treated
the subject as a very original piece of humour indeed. Their treatment
of it gained them an occasional cuff in the ear, and they had to be
discriminative in their choice of victims. Everybody was not to be
wished "returns of the day" with impunity.

The happiest people in the world on Christmas Day were the wise and
simple natives. They foregathered in the streets and revelled to their
hearts' content. All day long they sang, danced, and laughed; they held
orgies (in honour of the Colonel) and _corroborees_ of the kind
described by _de Rougemont_--the Washington of France. The antics of our
dusk