"Father, it's your present!"
There was hasty scurrying of feet, racing to and fro, and further shrieks. Langshaw waited, smiling.
It was evidently a "boughten" gift, then; the last had been a water pitcher, much needed in the household. He braced himself fondly for immense enthusiasm over this.
An expression of intense excitement was visible on each face when finally he was allowed to enter the upper room. Mary and Baby rushed at him to clasp his leg, while his wife leaned over to kiss him as he whispered:
"I brought out a lot of truck; it's all in the closet in the hall."
George, standing with his hands in his pockets, proclaimed loudly, with sparkling eyes:
"You nearly saw your present! It's from mother and us. Come here, Baby, and pull brother's leg. Say, father, do you like cut glass?"
"O-oh!" came in ecstatic chorus from the other two, as at a delightful joke.
"It's a secret!" announced Baby, her yellow hair falling over one round, blue eye.
"I believe it's a pony," said the father. "I'm sure I heard a pony up here!"