“What are you giving to your boy for Christmas?” asked Brown.
“A train,” said Jones, “new kind of thing—automatic.”
“Let’s have a look at it,” said Brown.
Jones fetched a parcel from the sideboard and began unwrapping it.
“Ingenious thing, isn’t it?” he said. “Goes on its own rails. Queer how kids love to play with trains, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” assented Brown. “How are the rails fixed?”
“Wait, I’ll show you,” said Jones. “Just help me to shove these dinner things aside and roll back the cloth. There! See! You lay the rails like that and fasten them at the ends, so—”
“Oh, yes, I catch on, makes a grade, doesn’t it? Just the thing to amuse a child, isn’t it? I got Willy a toy aeroplane.”
“I know, they’re great. I got Edwin one on his birthday. But I thought I’d get him a train this time. I told him Santa Claus was going to bring him something altogether new this time. Edwin, of course, believes in Santa Claus absolutely. Say, look at this locomotive, would you? It has a spring coiled up inside the fire box.”
“Wind her up,” said Brown with great interest. “Let’s see her go.”