This mat, or cushion, in between the horns of the buffalo Lieutenant
Alden killed, was so thick and tangled that I could not begin to get
my fingers in it.
FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY,
December, 1871.
OUR first Christmas on the frontier was ever so pleasant, but it
certainly was most vexatious not to have that box from home. And I
expect that it has been at Kit Carson for days, waiting to be brought
down. We had quite a little Christmas without it, however, for a
number of things came from the girls, and several women of the
garrison sent pretty little gifts to me. It was so kind and thoughtful
of them to remember that I might be a bit homesick just now. All the
little presents were spread out on a table, and in a way to make them
present as fine an appearance as possible. Then I printed in large
letters, on a piece of cardboard, "One box--contents unknown!" and
stood it up on the back of the table. I did this to let everyone know
that we had not been forgotten by home people. My beautiful new saddle
was brought in, also, for although I had had it several weeks, it was
really one of Faye's Christmas gifts to me.
They have such a charming custom in the Army of going along the line
Christmas morning and giving each other pleasant greetings and looking
at the pretty things everyone has received. This is a rare treat out
here, where we are so far from shops and beautiful Christmas displays.
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