to Alison Cunningham

Vailima, December 5, 1893.

MY DEAREST CUMMY,—This goes to you with a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  The Happy New Year anyway, for I think it should reach you about Noor’s Day.  I dare say it may be cold and frosty.  Do you remember when you used to take me out of bed in the early morning, carry me to the back windows, show me the hills of Fife, and quote to me.

‘A’ the hills are covered wi’ snaw,
   An’ winter’s noo come fairly’?

There is not much chance of that here!  I wonder how my mother is going to stand the winter.  If she can, it will be a very good thing for her.  We are in that part of the year which I like the best—the Rainy or Hurricane Season.  ‘When it is good, it is very, very good; and when it is bad, it is horrid,’ and our fine days are certainly fine like heaven; such a blue of the sea, such green of the trees, and such crimson of the hibiscus flowers, you never saw; and the air as mild and gentle as a baby’s breath, and yet not hot!

The mail is on the move, and I must let up.—With much love, I am, your laddie,

R. L. S.