CHAPTER VIII
CHRISTMAS AT ST. AUGUSTINE
Whoever has since discovered the North Pole,
we know that Santa Claus was the original settler
and, to whatever land he may come, we think of
him as cheering his reindeer on over new fallen
snow. Nor was frost to be denied him here in
St. Augustine where many people believe perpetual
summer reigns. The red-nosed morning
sun looked forth in some indignation on fields
white with it, palm trees crisp, and broad banana
leaves wilted black under its keen touch. The
gentle breeze that drifted in from the north had
ice in its touch and I do not know how the roses
that held up pink petals bravely and tossed their
soft, tea scent over the garden fences stood it
without wilting. Most of them are planted near
shelter, which may account for it. But the tea
roses are essentially the ladies of their kind. They
seem to have the feminine trait of exposing pink
and white beauty to the inclement winds without
growing goose flesh upon it. They stand brave
and unconcerned in an atmosphere where mere
