Jingle BellsMR Willet was as good as his word, and next morning, 'bright and early,' I had my breakfast to the accompaniment of the brushing up of coke in the distance. He was still at it when I crossed to the school, wielding the broom vigorously in his capable hands, his breath wreathing his head in silvery clouds.'Nasty cold morning,' I called to him, scurrying towards shelter.'This keeps me warm,' he replied, pausing for a moment to rest on his broom. 'But I s'pose I shan't be doing this much longer.''Only three days,' I agreed. 'And then it's the lovely Christmas holidays!''You should be ashamed!' said Mr Willet reproachfully. 'Young woman like you, wishing your life away.'But it was too cold to argue, and I only had time to wave to him before whisking into the shelter of the lobby.The last day of term, particularly the Christmas term, has a splendour of its own. There is an air of excitement at the thought of pleasures and freedom to come, but there is also a feeling of relaxation from daily routine made much more acute by the deliciously empty desks.
