When the Squirrel, taking a square package, ran with little leaping steps to Mrs. Danforth and began making a speech, everybody stopped talking to listen.
“Grandmother Gray,” he said, “when you invited the Club to have a Christmas-tree at your house, I had an idea that you must be very rich, and I thought you must need a good safe place to keep your money in, so I made this for you.”
Mrs. Danforth, with trembling fingers, like any surprised grandmother, unwrapped the package to find a box, neatly jointed together, with the lower part just large enough to put bills in laid out flat, and the upper part divided into five places,—one, each, for pennies, five-cent pieces, ten-cent pieces, quarters and half-dollars, as Ben, looking on, explained. The box was stained a rich, dark red colour, and had a tiny padlock and key.
“Nonsense!” said the grandmother in greatest delight. “Did you make this, Ben?”
“Yes, grandmother; I used to think I would be a carpenter,” replied Ben, as she took his two gray kid-gloved little hands into hers for a moment. “I think now, though, that I shall be a bird-man.”
Then, just like any fond, indulgent grandmother, Mrs. Danforth smiled and said: “You shall be whatever you want to be, my boy.” And Mrs. Holt looked with motherly pride upon her bright-eyed, happy-faced son.
While the box was being passed around and admired and the Squirrel was explaining it, the Gray Owl hopped in his funny sidelong fashion, with awkward, flopping wings, to Alice—who was not afraid of him now—and asked her to give to Elsa a long white box marked: “From the Christmas Makers’ Club.”
“Susie! Susie! You dear old doll,” Elsa cried, drawing a long, sobbing breath of delight. They all turned at her exclamation and saw her clasping to her breast an old-fashioned china doll in a white ball dress looped up with morsels of pink rosebuds over a blue silk petticoat.
But there was no time even to explain to Elsa why the Club had given her the old-fashioned doll, for another exciting event claimed their attention immediately. The Gray Owl and the Squirrel together took a heavy, flat package to Miss Ruth, who had already received so many remembrances that she was far from having thoughts of anything more. The Club watched breathlessly. This was the present which Mrs. White had helped them choose.
From under many white-paper wrappings appeared at last a beautiful Fra Angelico trumpeter angel, soft, rich, scarlet-and-gold in colouring, in a handsome gilt frame. With the picture came a card, on which Betty had written with great carefulness: “An angel to blow you a greeting from your affectionate Christmas Makers’ Club.” And to this card all the members of the Club had signed their names.