“Whoopee!” cried Joe. “We shan’t miss our Christmas after all!”
The dinner, being in the nature of a surprise, surpassed all previous Christmas dinners. Somehow, the turkey was more succulent, the mince pie had a better flavor, simply because the boys had been resigning themselves to missing the good things that year. The mere fact that the calendar indicated Christmas Day as being actually four days off seemed to matter little.
Mr. Hardy had even ordered a Christmas tree and, after dinner, when the boys went into the library and found that even this crowning touch had not been omitted, they felt that life had little more to offer. The tree glittered with lights and there were certain mysterious packages in tissue paper that aroused speculations. Frank and Joe immediately dashed upstairs and returned with the presents they had bought for their parents and for Aunt Gertrude, which they distributed at the base of the tree.
“I think we’re lucky,” said Frank, when they went to bed that night.
“Lucky! I never expected to have Christmas and our outing too,” returned his brother.
“Christmas dinner, a tree, and our presents!”
“I hope Chet and Biff get off as well.”
They fell asleep, happy.
In the morning, the usual Christmas ceremony of opening the presents was observed. Frank and Joe were unusually fortunate. The usual gifts of clothing, which included neckties, scarfs, socks and shirts came first, then for each of the lads came a complete outing costume of breeches, mackinaw shirts and short coats. To top it all came two small calibre rifles, each with a box of ammunition.
“Don’t kill too many rabbits,” laughed their father.