“Course we will,” said Kenneth promptly.
“I’d like to write a letter to the little girl Prouts,” mused Rose. “It must be awfully lonesome on the island in winter.”
“We must wait till next summer, Rose dear,” said her mamma. “We have been bad neighbors to those little children, and we must get acquainted with them first. The little Prouts do not know us, and it is our fault. But another summer we will know them. And then we will plan what we can do to make their winters less lonely. Poor babies!”
“I’d like to send them a Christmas box,” said Kenneth, who had been thinking all this time. “I’ll send the boys a lot of books and candy and things.”
“And I’ll send some to the girls,” cried Rose, clapping her hands. “Oh! That will be fine,—and a doll for each one.”
“That is a good plan,” said Mrs. Thornton. “We will certainly do it. How selfish we have been to care for our beautiful island only while we were there, and to forget our neighbors who live there all the year through! Just think, Kenneth and Rose, those children believe that our Father doesn’t come there in winter. We must change that, and show them that He is watching all His children all the time.”
Kenneth and Rose had a beautiful time making ready that Christmas box. Into it they put all the things that they had first thought of, and a great many beside. And they sent it so that it reached the island on Christmas eve. Tim Parks brought it over to the Prouts the next morning.
“I guess your friend who sends you the magazines has sent you something fine for Christmas,” he grinned, as he carried the heavy box into the room where the six little Prouts stood gaping with wonder. “‘The Misses and the Masters Prout!’” he cried, reading the label.
Mary squeezed Tommy’s hand and whispered something as they all crowded around while the box was being opened. And Tommy nodded wisely.
On the top of the box, inside, was a card which read: “Merry Christmas to the little Prouts, from a brother and a sister who read Tommy’s letter in the Letter-Box. The kind Father watches over us all alike, on islands and in the big cities, and He bids us love one another, especially on His birthday.”