Susy blushed. She had certainly expected something handsome this year from her father.
"I haven't forgotten you, my dear; but the present I have chosen wouldn't sit very well on the shoulders of such a little fellow as Santa Claus."
Percy laughed. "Wouldn't it have been a load, uncle?"
"Hush!" whispered aunt Madge; "she isn't to know till morning."
"But, papa," said Susy, her eyes shining with excitement, "why couldn't you bring it in here now?"
"It is better off out of doors. Indeed, to tell the truth, my child, it is hardly suitable for the parlor."
"Now, Miss Susy," said Percy, measuring off his words on the tips of his fingers, "I'm authorized to tell you it's something you mustn't take in your lap, mustn't hang on a nail; if you do, you'll lose it. I'm sure 'twill please you, Susy, because it's a mute, and can't speak. You—"
"O, hush talking about dumb people! I shouldn't think you'd make sport of Freddy Jackson! If you was a little deaf-and-dumber than you are now, I'd like you better!
"O, dear, dear!" cried she, dancing about the room; "what can it be? I can't wait!"
"Only think; all night before I'll know," thought she, as she touched her pillow. "O, Prudy, to-morrow morning! Only think of to-morrow morning I All my other presents are just nothing at all. Anything is so much nicer when you don't know what it is!"