[BOOK III]
1916
Scrapped
[CHAPTER XVI]
January, 1916
January 1st, 1916. Each New Year's Day one wonders afresh at the oddness of commencing the year in January, cold January, when all the world is engrossed in recovering from Christmas benevolence and bracing itself to hustle through the days with the minimum amount of cold, instead of Nature's New Year in April. January, this month of surprises, with its rain and sunshine, sleet and mists, its promises of rest soon to be found, is surely already a hoary old man with a life of infinite experience behind him, a month for achieving and not for beginning things.
At least, this is how we felt when the New Year's festivities, over which we had taken such trouble, commenced. Our tables, plentifully laid out with fruits, bonbons and crackers, the gifts of friends at home as well as those here, betokened rather Christmas than New Year gaieties.
If our decorations of green garlands, mistletoe, holly and ribbons were more elegant than effective, they were, at any rate, appreciated, judging by our guests' criticism as they waited in a queue for the doors to open.
Throughout the tea, which kept us well occupied as, cans in hand, we filled and refilled cups, a first-rate volunteer concert party kept the room in roars of laughter.