On the eighth day of
Christmas, my true love sent to me eight maids a’milking…
Jonathan, 1-2
What are
your intentions toward me? I hope not as strange as your courtship. The postman
was here bright and early, at the crack of dawn, saying that these eight very
large cows were accustomed to an early milking. Such a cacophony: the cattle
lowing, the birds awakened and adding their bit, the milkmaids shouting to be
heard! I’m accustomed to arising at a more reasonable time, and since your
generous gifts have begun, I lie awake until the wee hours trying to solve
these problems. Though Matilda made a cold poultice of milk to repair the
shadows under my eyes, I hesitate now to ask you to come, not wanting you to
see me at less than my best. Please call, Jonathan, and hurry, before I am
overwhelmed by your generosity.
Love,
Alicia.
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