“Is it?” said the Small Girl’s mother. “Now, do you know, I should think the very nicest thing in the whole wide world would be not to have seen the tree.”
The Boy-Next-Door stared and said, “Why?”
“Because,” said the Small Girl’s mother, “the nicest thing in the world would be to have somebody tie a handkerchief around your eyes, as tight, as tight, and then to have somebody take your hand and lead you in and out and in and out and in and out, until you didn’t know where you were, and then to have them untie the handkerchief—and there would be the tree—all shining and splendid——”
She stopped, but her singing voice seemed to echo and re-echo in the great room.
The boy’s staring eyes had a new look in them. “Did anybody ever tie a handkerchief over your eyes?”
“Oh, yes——”
“And lead you in and out, and in and out?”
“Yes.”
“Well, nobody does things like that in our house. They think it’s silly.”
The Small Girl’s mother laughed, and her laugh tinkled like a bell. “Do you think it is silly?”