There was an awful pause, every one staring at the smooth layer of brown paper.
"I'm goin' to peek first," announced Elvira, finding her tongue.
This unloosed all the others. "She shan't; Elviry's always a-pushin' first."
"Mammy, mayn't I?"
"No, let me." It was a babel in a minute.
"You be still." It was Matthew who commanded silence. "Mother's goin' to look first; it's her box," he added convincingly.
The little widow would much rather have allowed this privilege to one of her brood, but it was difficult to choose between the five; so she put out her hand tremblingly, then drew it back.
"We'll let Susan do it," she said; "she couldn't go out to the wagon with the rest of you."
"Oh, yes, let baby do it," cried the others, easily pleased, and in a dreadful twitter to begin operations. "Yes, let baby," echoed Elvira, dashing away from the box to hug Susan, who, delighted at the opportunity, seized one of the black braids in her fat little hands, with a crow that disclosed the few teeth she possessed.
"Ow! Let me go!" screamed Elvira, very red in the face and twisting violently. "Mother, Susan's got my hair! Slap her."
"Oh, no, no," said the little widow, getting the small, triumphant hands within her thin ones; "we wouldn't slap baby for anything. There, there, Susan mustn't. Naughty—naughty!"
Susan looked up in her mother's face to see if she really meant it, and concluding that she did, the black braid slid out of her hands, the string flying off to the floor.
"There, see what she's done! My hair's all untied," cried Elvira, in great vexation, and picking up the old white string; "she ought to be slapped," she added, bobbing her head decidedly, her black eyes flashing.
"Oh, no, no," said her mother again; "why, we couldn't slap our baby, Elviry, ever in all this world," and she pressed her closely to her breast. "Well, come, children, now Susan's going to pull up the paper."
"Wait!" screamed Elvira, the string between her teeth, and doubling over in great distress, "till I tie my braid. Oh, wait, Mammy."
"Oh, never mind! Viry, hurry up!" cried all the boys together. And the other children, capering around the big box, with many dashes and pickings from impatient fingers, made Mrs. Hansell say, "Stop, children; there now, hurry, Elviry. Yes, yes, Susan, you're going to do it," until at last the great moment had arrived, and the whole family was drawn up around the centre of operations, each one scarcely daring to breathe.
"Now, baby," said the little widow, grasping Susan's fat hand in one of her thin ones, "you must take hold of one end of the paper; there, see," and she folded the little one's fingers over it. But Susan preferred to spat the smooth surface, and to crow loudly. So it was really Mother Hansell after all that lifted the veil and opened up fairyland to view.