“Let me help untie the string,” pleaded Maud. “I love to open parcels. Oh, it’s a book. Dulcie likes books better than most any other presents, Paul.”
“It’s ‘Little Men,’” said Dulcie, with shining eyes; “the book I’ve been wanting for so long! How did you know I wanted it, Paul?”
“Molly told me,” said Paul, who was feeling much gratified at the excitement produced by his gift. “I bought it this afternoon when I was out with Mother. She said I ought to write something in it, but there wasn’t time. I’ll write it now.”
“All right,” said Dulcie, hugging her new treasure tight. “Oh, Paul, I do thank you so much. What would you like to write?”
“Well,” said Paul, reflectively, “Mother thought something French would be nice, but I hate French. I think ‘From Paul Chester to his affectionate friend Dulcie Winslow’ would be all right, don’t you? Or would you rather have some poetry? I know a lot of poetry.”
Dulcie said she liked Paul’s first suggestion best, and the little boy sat down at the desk to write the inscription.
“It’s the first really nice birthday present you’ve had, Dulcie,” said Daisy, joyfully; “I’m so glad you got it.”
“They were all nice,” declared Dulcie, giving her sister an affectionate squeeze. “I loved every single one. I’m awfully glad to have ‘Little Men,’ though. I’ll read it out loud this evening, if you like. Have you finished, Paul? Oh, how beautifully you write.”
Paul looked pleased.
“I like buying presents for people,” he said, grandly. “Mother said she was glad I was generous, but she didn’t think I need spend so much money. I told her I wanted to, because I liked Dulcie, and I thought it was real mean nobody gave her anything new for her birthday.”