Marjorie put it on her finger with great satisfaction, and Kitty looked at it lovingly.
"May I have one when I am twelve, Mother?" she asked.
"May I, may I?" chimed in Rosy Posy.
"Yes," said Mr. Maynard; "you girls may each have one just like Marjorie's when you are as old as she is now. That last parcel, Mops, is my present for you. I'm not sure that you can learn to use it, but perhaps you can, and if not I'll take it back and exchange it for something else."
Marjorie eagerly untied the wrappings of her father's gift, and found a little snapshot camera.
"Indeed I can learn to use it," she cried; "I took some pictures once with a camera that belonged to one of the girls at school, and they were all right. Thank you heaps and heaps, father dear; I'll send you pictures of everything on the place; from Grandma herself down to the littlest, weeniest, yellow chicken."
"Next year it will be my turn to go," said Kitty; "I hope I'll get as lovely presents as Mopsy has."
"You will," said Kingdon; "because last year mine were just as good, and so, of course, yours will be."
"I'm sure they will," said Kitty.