“Fine!” approved Mrs. Merrill, “I think I have enough yarn for the mittens and if you’ll get it out of the drawer there we can wind it while we talk and it will be all ready for you to set up at once. You’ll have to work hard and fast if you want to make a muffler and a pair of mittens before Christmas.”
“Now then,” she continued, looking at the list, “they have very few bed covers and the children get so cold at night.”
“Why couldn’t you make some covers, mother?” suggested Alice, “and let me make them each some flannelette pajamas like we wear—you know how toasting warm they are. And I have the pattern and I know I could make them all myself.”
“That’s a beautiful idea,” approved Mrs. Merrill, “and I hadn’t even thought of such a thing. When we get through planning, dear, you can get out your pattern and see how much material you’ll need. Then, when I go up town to-morrow, I’ll get it for you.”
“And they need stockings,” she continued, “and shoes—”
“Could any of ’em wear my good shoes that are too little?” asked Mary Jane eagerly. She had been greatly distressed about those “best” shoes that were so good, and yet were hopelessly outgrown.
“I think they’ll be exactly right,” said Mrs. Merrill. “In fact I picked out this particular family because I was sure we could find nice things for them among you girls’ outgrown things and that, put with what we buy new, would make all the bigger Christmas for them.
“And about toys,” she continued with the list, “the girls have never had a doll—”
“Never had—” began Mary Jane but she couldn’t quite get the words out. Never had a doll. Never had a Marie Georgiannamore to love and care for and take riding in a beautiful cart. Never had—no, she couldn’t quite imagine it.
After that there was no more reading off a list. Mary Jane and Alice began making a list of their own, of what those children were to have for Christmas.