"My! Captain Hawkins," said Bob. "Forty years? Are your nephews and grandchildren as old as that?"
"Well, pretty nearly," said the Captain, with an uneasy laugh. "Pretty nearly; and when you get to be forty you get kind of tired o' tin pails and wooden spades and little red jumpin'-jacks an' doll babbies and lemon drops. You boys don't understand that, but wait till you get to be forty year old, and see if I ain't tellin' you the solemnest kind o' truth."
"I guess you're right," said Bob. "I gave my daddy a fine old Jack-in-the-box once, and he laughed like everything at first; but he didn't play with it much, and finally it came back to me again. Pop's pretty nearly forty."
"Yes, an' I guess he laughed like sixty when he saw that Bob-in-a-box."
"Jack-in-a-box," said Bob, with a smile.
"All the same," retorted the old Captain. "Jack-in-a-box, Tommie-in-a-box, or Bob-in-a-box! I never could see why they took the trouble to specify, and if I'd ever have had any children o' my own the Jack-in-a-box would ha' been named after 'em."
"But, Captain, you were just speaking of your grandchildren," said Tommie. "How can you have any grandchildren if you haven't had any children?"
"Oh, that's easy," replied the Captain. "I've adopted 'em. Whenever I see boy or a girl that strikes me as being grand I adopt 'em and call 'em my grandchildren. I guess I've got most a million of 'em scattered round."
"And you've come up to get a million Christmas presents for 'em?" cried Bob, in ecstasy.
"Yep—only there ain't more'n ten of 'em," said the Captain, "that expects anything. I'm goin' to spend ten cents apiece on 'em, but first I've got to get the other eight."