Thomas was the hall boy, you remember, and a good friend to Patty, too.
So Patty untied Thomas’s box. It held a large silk handkerchief, blue-and-red on one side and red-and-blue on the other.
It was bright, it was gay, and Patty was delighted.
‘But I shan’t use it for a handkerchief,’ said she. ‘It is too good. I shall use it for a—for a shawl,’ said Patty, putting it about her shoulders and making herself look like a little Mother Bunch.
‘You might wear it for a muffler under your coat,’ suggested Father, ‘like my black-and-white muffler, you know.’
‘I will,’ said Patty, ‘I will wear it this very day.’
For Patty was going on a journey this Christmas Day. She was going to Four Corners with Father and Mother and Grandmother to eat her Christmas dinner at the Farm with Aunt Mary and Uncle Charles.
So Patty made haste to empty her stocking.
She found a string of beautiful pink coral beads in the toe. There was a small paint-box, and a book full of pictures all ready for Patty to paint. There was a ball of gay red worsted and two knitting-needles. Grandmother must have known something about that, for she had long ago promised to teach Patty to knit.
But the present in her stocking that Patty liked best of all was a wee pair of brown mittens so tiny that no little girl, not even a baby girl, could possibly have squeezed her fingers into them.