At least all except Jim, for when he looked at the Punch doll on the top of the tree, it seemed to him that it was frowning at him, and he made up his mind never to peep through cracks of doors again, when it was forbidden him, however much he might want to know what was behind them.
Now, before he had made this good resolution he had been thoroughly miserable.
He could take no pleasure at all in the beautiful presents which Mother gathered for them from the Christmas-tree, for all the time he was watching the Punch doll to see if he would come down from his perch and chase him upstairs again.
No sooner did he resolve to be a better boy in future than the expression on Punch’s face changed in a most surprising manner: he seemed almost to smile at Jimmy.
Even when the tree was stripped of everything except Punch, and the children were busy pulling the plums out of the big snapdragon Father had lighted, Jimmy fancied the old fellow nodded his head at him once or twice in a friendly fashion, and the little boy was so relieved and happy that he clapped his hands for joy, and shouted with the rest.
L. L. Weedon.
The Grateful Pedlar
