"That's the best notion that ever came from Roger," approved James. "I think I'll make one and give it to Father. The Recognition Day procession and all that, you know."
"Envelopes make me think that we may have some small gifts—cards or handkerchiefs—that we can send in envelopes," said Ethel Blue, "and we ought to decorate them just as much as our boxes."
"They won't be hard. Any of the ideas we've suggested for the boxes will do—flowers and silhouettes, and seals. You're a smarty with watercolors so you can paint some original figures or a tiny landscape, but the rest of us will have to keep to the pastepot," laughed Margaret.
"For home gifts we can write rhymes to put into the envelopes, but I suppose it wouldn't do for these European kids," said Tom. "We don't know where they're going, you see, and it would never do if an English child got a German rhyme or the other way round."
"O-oh, ne-ver," gasped Ethel Blue whose quick imagination sympathized with the feelings of a child to whom such a thing happened. "We'll have to make them understand through their eyes."
"Fortunately Santa Claus with his pack speaks a language they can all understand," nodded Roger.
"Here comes his humble servant right now," exclaimed Mrs. Hancock at the door.
Tom ran to hold it open for her, and Roger relieved her of the waiter which she was carrying.
"James has to have an egg-nog at this time," she explained, "so I thought all of you might like to be 'picked up' after your hard afternoon's work."
These sentiments were greeted with applause though Tom insisted that the best part of the afternoon was yet to come as he had not yet had a chance to tell about his invention.