"I'll have to watch you, now you got silk stockings," said Stud. "You'll be running off with Vern Barton or somebody the first thing I know."
Sarah looked through the silk at the lamp and rubbed the smooth stuff against her cheek. She kept them treasured in her bureau drawer, but never wore them to the day she died.
The present Early Ann had bought for Gus was a set of arm garters and matching green tie. The hired man grinned like a Cheshire cat when he opened the box.
Stud was given a magnificent, fancy white vest of imported bird's-eye weave with detachable pearl buttons.
"Never seen anything so classy in all my born days," said Stud, slipping into the vest. He put his watch in the watch pocket, draped his gold log-chain across his middle, and paraded in front of the kitchen mirror, holding up the lamp to get the full effect.
"That's mighty nice of you, girl," said Stud. "I reckon I ought to kiss you for that."
"Stanley," said Sarah, in laughing disapproval, "I reckon you better not."
Early Ann said she would keep Peter's present until she saw him. Meanwhile she had one more gift for the entire family. She unwrapped a small stereopticon on which she had squandered seven dollars. Sarah put up a sheet at one end of the kitchen, while Early Ann lighted the coal-oil lamp in the little black box and blew out all the other lights in the room. There in the warm, dark kitchen they spent two magic hours. Over and over again they called for "Rock of Ages," "Niagara Falls," "The Statue of Liberty," "The Sinking of the Maine" and "The Washington Monument." Altogether there were twenty-four slides in full color.
"Next time you go to Chicago you got to take me," said Gus, pouring Early Ann another mug of cider.
It was not until Early Ann saw Peter, and gave him the gold watch she had bought him, that she told the other side of her trip to Chicago.