After a search, they remembered at the same time that the scissors had been used before the goose could be cleaned, and they were found lying under the neck of the bird just where Mrs. Tregennis had put them before Sam Trimble knocked.
The sacking was sewn with stout cord and the scissors were blunt, therefore it was some little time before the opening made was wide enough for Mrs. Tregennis to pull out the padding of straw. Under the straw something hard revealed itself to the touch, but there were more stitches to be cut through before the contents could be withdrawn. Then Tommy held on as firmly as he could at one end of the sacking while Mammy tried to pull out whatever it was that was so carefully packed within. Something rolled to the floor as she pulled, and after a glance at it she snatched it up and furtively hid it underneath her apron.
“What’s that, Mammy?” said Tommy, all alert.
“That,” pointing disdainfully to the pile of straw, “’n do we pay for your schoolin’, Tommy Tregennis, an’ you not so much as to know as that’s called straw!”
“But there was somethin’ as fell, an’ you——”
“You’m but a noosance an’ in the way, Tommy. Run an’ see if your Daddy’s on the quay, and if he be tell him to come an’ help clear up.”
When Tommy had gone Mrs. Tregennis took from underneath her apron a brown paper parcel, on which was written: “From Tommy’s Ladies, for his Christmas stocking.” She put it among the potatoes and fire-wood in the dark kitchen cupboard, and had only just time to kneel down and pull out more straw when Tommy bounded into the kitchen and again made the feathers fly.
“Can’t see Daddy nowheres, Mammy!”
“And much trouble you’ve taken to find he, my son. However, never mind, I’ve done it.” With a final push and one last pull a simple but well-made fumed-oak book-case came into view.