"Breakfast first," decreed her father, "or I fear you'll become so excited you'll never eat at all."
So Marjorie contented herself with pinching and punching the bundles, while she ate peaches and cream and cereal.
"Oh, what is in this squnchy one?" she cried, feeling of a loosely done-up parcel. "It smells so sweet, and it crackles like silk!"
"Kitty sent that," answered her mother, smiling, "and she wrote me that she made it herself."
But at last the cereal-saucer was empty, and the ribbons could be untied.
Kitty's gift proved to be a lovely bag, of pink and blue Dresden silk.
"What's it for?" asked King, not much impressed with its desirability.
"Oh, for anything!" cried Marjorie. "Handkerchiefs,—or hair-ribbons,—or,—or just to hang up and look pretty."
"Pretty foolish," opined King, but he greeted with joy the opening of the next bundle.
"Jumping Hornets!" he exclaimed; "isn't that a beauty! Just what I wanted!"