II
At breakfast she knew that it was her birthday. There were presents from her aunts—a picture-book and a box of pencils—there was also a mysterious parcel. Angelina could not remember that she had ever had a parcel before, and the excitement of this one must be prolonged. She would not open it, but gazed at it, with her spoon in the air and her mouth wide open.
"Come, Miss Angelina—what a name to give the poor lamb!—get on with your breakfast now, or you'll never have done. Why not open the pretty parcel?"
"No. Do you think it is a twain?"
"Say train—not twain."
"Train."
"No, of course not; not a thing that shape."
"Oh! Do you think it's a bear?"
"Maybe—maybe. Come now, get on with your bread and butter."
"Don't want any more."