“Fore Tes and Dot, from there fathefull frend S. P.”
Mrs. MacCall had not the heart to say anything about it when she went upstairs again, after having confined the Belgian hare in the sink closet in the kitchen, out of which he was not likely to gnaw his way before morning. The “Christmas bells” had ceased ringing, and so the two little girls went back to sleep without learning of their unexpected present until the proper time.
But a lot of fun was had over that gift of Sammy’s. Neale and Uncle Rufus made a proper pen for the Belgian hare in one end of the goat shed where Billy Bumps chewed his cud in lonely glory.
“Billy won’t eat him up, and maybe the two will become good friends,” said Neale.
“What won’t that boy think of next?” gasped Agnes, weak from laughter.
What Mrs. Pinkney said about it when she learned the nature of her son’s “nice present” to Tess and Dot, was plenty! And how Sammy’s father laughed!
“I can’t understand,” said the worried Mrs. Pinkney, “how that boy comes to do such ridiculous things. I know I never had such ideas when I was a child and I don’t believe you did.”
“No, I never did,” her husband chuckled. “I own up that Sammy has inventive traits—and others—that he does not come by, by heredity.”
“Say, Mom!” said Sammy thoughtfully.
“What is it, you strange boy?” sighed his mother.