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Anuradhapura

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This letter written in longhand on Indian Government Telegraph paper.
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Dear Mr. Hecker,

My Christmas is being charmingly spent in this wonderful old buried city --- once larger than London --- now containing less than one dozen white people --- all government officials and less than two thousand natives.  I am the only visitor in the Rest House and probably the only one in the place or city, I suppose it should be called.  Everything seems beautiful.  The weather is like a perfect American July day.  Thousands of birds and butterflies flitting about --- magnificent trees, shrubs and vines with superb foliage.  Flowers of greater beauty than I dreamed of, and a fragrance in the air finer than words can describe.  Over all the sky bluer than that of Italy, and for miles around ruins of wonderful proportions and temples famous to all followers of Buddha.  Early this morning I visited the Sacred Bo Tree.  After my return to the Rest House a large number of the natives from children two years old to men nearly one hundred, all in various stages of nakedness, many very beautiful and intelligent, came bringing me flowers and danced and sang and played upon their weird musical instruments---For they knew it was my Christmas day and they delighted to honour it.  And I must say that pleasanter more polite and apparently more genuine Christmas expressions I have never heard uttered --- and in perfect English too.  But it needed no demonstrations of any sort to remind me of those at home and I hope my affection and interest will not be measured by the few and meagre words of my cablegram.  It will probably reach you late as it cannot be sent until four o'clock this afternoon, because of holiday observance.  But I trust it will be in your hands before the sun has set upon your fifteenth year of Christmas kindness in Detroit.  My full team and guide are at the door and now I must be off to the jungle where I am to see some of the natives who live therein.

Faithfully

C.L.F.

Anuradhapura (about 180 miles from Colombo)
December 25th, 1894.

Stationery is might scarce in this country and I carry next to no luggage with me.  The suit of clothes I have on were made by a native and cost me a little over two (2) dollars our money.

Merry Christmas to all including heads departments.