Mr. Clapp looked as if it were a kind of rudeness that he was enjoying very much. As he rose to go, he said:
“Don’t you think I’m a pretty good sort of a Santa Claus after all, Miss Polly?”
Polly seized his outstretched hand.
“I didn’t believe any one person could be so rich, and so good, too!” she declared.
“And, O Dan!” cried Polly, the minute they were alone together, “let’s send a New-Year’s box home. There’ll be just time enough. We can get one of those great carriage rugs for Uncle Seth, and a China silk for Aunt Lucia.”
“And I’ll send Cousin John’s boys some Indian bows and arrows.”
“And Cousin Martha a dozen Chinese cups and saucers.”
“And the old Professor a meerschaum pipe.”
“And Miss Louisa Bailey, and dear Mrs. Dodge, and the Widow Criswell,—what shall we send the Widow Criswell, Dan?” 193
“Some black-bordered pocket-handkerchiefs!” cried the irreverent Dan.