The Blossom family never opened their Christmas gifts till after breakfast Christmas morning. The children had their stockings and that was supposed to keep them contented till it came time to open the parcels; but often they thought they just could not wait another minute after the first peep at the little mountain of white paper packages under the tree.
“I declare, Twaddles, you remind me of a bumble bee on a hot griddle,” said Uncle Dave laughingly. “I never saw anyone in such a hurry to get through his breakfast; now I call these hot rolls first-rate and I need another cup of coffee, please, Margaret,” he added to Mother Blossom.
“Dave, I think you’re real mean,” scolded Aunt Miranda, but she spoke so gently, no one thought she really meant to scold. “How can you sit there and drink another cup of that hot coffee when you know these children are counting the minutes till they can open their presents? It isn’t good for you to drink that much coffee, anyway.”
“All right, I won’t take the second cup,” said Uncle Dave meekly. “I seem to have had my breakfast, then, Margaret.”
“May we be ’scused, Mother?” shouted the four little Blossoms. “Please, Mother? Is it time to open the things now, Mother?”
Mother Blossom laughed and said they would all go into the living-room and look at their presents. And in ten minutes that beautiful, orderly room was a sea of white tissue paper and seals and string and pink and blue cotton. How Aunt Miranda laughed when she unwrapped one canvas glove!
“I couldn’t afford to buy two of them,” Dot explained, “because I had to buy a present for Mother and Daddy, too. But you can use one hand, can’t you, Aunt Miranda?”
“Why, of course, I can,” Aunt Miranda said heartily. “I’ll wear it when I’m fussing with my garden this spring, Dot, and think of you every time I wear it.”
Aunt Miranda had knitted a lovely scarf of brushed wool with mittens to match for each of the children, and a tam-o-shanter hat for Meg and one for Dot. The four little Blossoms were delighted with these, as they might well be. Dot’s set was of scarlet wool, Meg’s was a delicate blue, Bobby had brown and Twaddles’ set was a light buff color. Uncle Dave had whittled each of the boys a ship, and for Meg he had made a little chain of curious wooden beads and another smaller chain for Dot.
It took a long time to see all the presents for there were a good many of them and everyone wanted to show his gifts to everyone else. Sam was very proud of the little diary Meg had given him and he promised to write in it every day; Norah laughed till she cried over the cologne bottle Bobby gave her for he had pulled the cork out to smell of it after he got it home and the cologne had either evaporated or had been spilled and the tiny bottle was quite empty. But as Norah said, when she thanked Bobby, it still smelled exactly like cologne. Twaddles had bought a pocket-knife with six blades for Uncle Dave and not one of them would open. But Uncle Dave declared he liked that kind of a knife because it always looked well and yet there was no danger that he would cut himself.