Langshaw waited, smiling.
It was evidently a "boughten" gift, then; the last had been a water
pitcher, much needed in the household. He braced himself fondly for
immense enthusiasm over this.
An expression of intense excitement was visible on each face when
finally he was allowed to enter the upper room. Mary and Baby rushed at
him to clasp his leg, while his wife leaned over to kiss him as he
whispered:
"I brought out a lot of truck; it's all in the closet in the hall."
George, standing with his hands in his pockets, proclaimed loudly, with
sparkling eyes:
"You nearly saw your present! It's from mother and us. Come here, Baby,
and pull brother's leg. Say, father, do you like cut glass?"
"O-oh!" came in ecstatic chorus from the other two, as at a delightful
joke.
"It's a secret!" announced Baby, her yellow hair falling over one round,
blue eye.
"I believe it's a pony," said the father. "I'm sure I heard a pony up
here!"
Shouts of renewed joy greeted the jest.
All the next day, Christmas Eve itself, whenever two or three of the
family were gathered together there were secret whisperings, more
scurryings, and frenzied warnings for the father not to come into the
room.
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