"This is for mother for her mending" Mäzli called out looking with suspense at her uncle's fingers. He was just pulling out a dainty little sewing case.
"You guessed wrong that time, Mäzli," he said. "Your mother gets a present, too, but this is for Mea, who is getting to be a young lady. She will soon visit her friends with the sewing case under her arm."
"Oh, how lovely, uncle, how lovely!" Mea cried out, altogether enchanted with her gift. "I wish you had brought some friends for me with you; they are hard enough to find here."
"I promise to do that another time, Mea. To-day there was no more room for them in my overcoat. But now comes the most important thing of all!" and with these words the uncle pulled a large box out of each pocket. "These are for the small people," he said, "but do not mix them up. In one are stamping little horses, and in the other little steaming pots. Which is for Mäzli?"
"The stamping horses," she said quickly.
"I don't think so. Take it now and look," said the uncle. When Lippo had received his box also, the two ran over to their table, but Mäzli suddenly paused half-way.
"Uncle Philip," she asked eagerly, "has mother gotten something, too, something nice? Can I see it?"
"Yes, something very nice," the uncle answered, "but she has not gotten it yet; one can't see it, but one can hear it."
"Oh, a piano," Mäzli guessed quickly.
"No, no, Mäzli; you might see as much as that," said the uncle. "You couldn't possibly guess it. It can't come out till all the small birds are tucked into their nests and everything is still and quiet."