Holly Hill was a place for Christmas Holly Hill, the old rambling
Stratford homestead in Virginia, on its high hill, looking down the
long slope and across the wide fields to the far woods rimming the
sky. From Bob, the veteran, within a month of his teens, down to
brown-eyed Evelyn, with her golden hair floating all around her,
when Christmas came everyone hung up a stocking, and the visit of
Santa Claus was the event of the year.
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