"Yes, never felt so mean in my life. To think of that little Ed sending us these splendid whips, and the little girls these pretty books. I 'most wish they hadn't."
"But where's 'the larger gift' they say is 'a joint present from themselves'?"
"Oh that must be what Pomp called the rest left down stairs. Come, let's hurry and get down there to see what it is."
Toilet duties were attended to in hot haste and in a wonderfully short time the two were on the front veranda in eager quest of the mysterious present.
Each boyish heart gave a wild bound of delight as their eyes fell upon a group in the avenue, just before the entrance;—two beautiful ponies, ready saddled and bridled, in charge of an Ion servant; old Mr. Dinsmore, Calhoun and Arthur standing near examining and commenting upon them with evident admiration.
"O, what beauties!" cried Dick, bounding into the midst of the group.
"Whose are they, Uncle Joe?"
"Well, sah," answered the old negro, pulling off his hat and bowing first to one, then to the other, "dey's sent heyah, by Massa Travilla and Miss Elsie, for two boys 'bout de size o' you, dat don' neber mean to frighten young chillen no mo'."
The lads hung their heads in silence, the blush of shame on their cheeks.
"Do you answer the description?" asked Calhoun, a touch of scorn in his tones.
"Yes; for we'll never do it again," said Walter. "But it's too much: they're too kind!" and he fairly broke down, and turned away his head to hide the tears that would come into his eyes.