The Xmas Reckoning

Northern Advocate, 9 August 1938, Page 2

The Xmas Reckoning

Diana Carruthers, her fair buster hair tossled, her blue eyes laughing with fun her breath coming in little gasps, came to a standstill in the little cupboard-like room she had entered, and looked round her interestedly. This was the jolliest Christmas Eve party she had ever had. There were all those boys and girls searching every nook and cranny in the big old English home, and she had eluded them. But where was she ? Again Di. looked round the shadowy, tiny room. Surely she knew every secret passage, every hiding place in her home, but this Quite regardless of the flimsy dainty parly frock, Dianna sank down among the debris on the floor. This was a find without a doubt. It looked like dad’s old war things—the little souvenirs he had brought back, and which he had vowed were somehow lost. Quite forgetful of the happy crowds searching the house for the popular young hostess. Diana eagerly examined the dusty, grimy objects. A revolver, several helmets, a couple of stoutlooking boxes and a uniform. She ran her hands deftly through the pockets. Could there be any war coins or , Ah, what was this? She drew out a tiny book, and rising to her feet, crossed the room to where a few stray beams of moonlight peeped through the slating. A dusty little brown leather dairy it turned out to be, with dull gold French lettering on the cover. Diana, her han(ds quite trembling with excitement. opened the little book that had been her captain father’s during those long years in France. They were brief notes, almost little records, and Diana skimmed through the pages until came a page at last where the crinkled yeh low sheet was crammed with the pale, faded hand writing. Diana, bending closer, could just distinguish the date—- “ Christmas Eve, 1917.”

‘■Just 13 years ago to-day,” she murmured. and read the faded entry. (.To be continued Thursday next.)