"I want to post my letter," he said, "but I've no stamp."
"They'll give you one at the post office. We haven't one in the house," said Mrs. Thorn, "or I would give it to you."
Noel put his hand in his pocket rather grandly.
"I have two pennies of my own. I'll go to the post office and buy one. Good-bye, God's man, and I like Bertie and Mrs. Thorn. I'll ask you all—every one—to my Chris'mas tree."
He ran off down the street to the village, and Mrs. Thorn looked after him and smiled:
"Quite the little man, isn't he? I wish our Bertie was as spry!"
Bertie looked at his mother.
"He's bigger nor me. I'd like well to see his Chris'mas tree."
Meanwhile, at home they were very anxious about Noel. Chris went down the garden to look for him and then into the church and churchyard. Mrs. Tubbs was worried.
"You shouldn't have been so high-handed, Master Chris. What shall we do if any harm has come to him? Even Nurse never locks him into a cupboard."