talk to him.  He chose the youngest two to-day.  Leading him in triumph to the inviting-looking table, they placed him in their midst with joyfully sparkling eyes.  It was a merry meal.  The children were allowed to ask him all they wanted to and he told them so many amusing things about his travels that they could never get weary of listening.  Last of all the good things came the Sunday cake, and when that was eaten, Maezli showed great signs of impatience, as if the best of all were still to come.

“I think that Maezli has noticed something,” said the uncle; “and one must never let such a small and inquisitive nose point into empty air for too long.  We must look now what my overcoat has brought back from the ship.”

Maezli who had already jumped up from her chair seized her uncle’s hand as soon as he rose.  She wanted to be as close to him as possible while he was emptying the two deep pockets.  What lovely red books came out first!  He presented them to Bruno and Kurt who appeared extremely pleased with their presents.

“This is for mother for her mending” Maezli called out looking with suspense at her uncle’s fingers.  He was just pulling out a dainty little sewing case.

“You guessed wrong that time, Maezli,” he said.  “Your mother gets a present, too, but this is for Mea, who is getting to be a young lady.  She will soon visit her friends with the sewing case under her arm.”

“Oh, how lovely, uncle, how lovely!” Mea cried out, altogether enchanted with her gift.  “I wish you had brought some friends for me with you; they are hard enough to find here.”

“I promise to do that another time, Mea.  To-day there was no more room for them in my overcoat.  But now comes the most important thing of all!” and with these words the uncle pulled a large box out of each pocket.  “These are for the small people,” he said, “but do not mix them up.  In one are stamping little horses, and in the other little steaming pots.  Which is for Maezli?”

“The stamping horses,” she said quickly.

“I don’t think so.  Take it now and look,” said the uncle.  When Lippo had received his box also, the two ran over to their table, but Maezli suddenly paused half-way.

“Uncle Philip,” she asked eagerly, “has mother gotten something, too, something nice?  Can I see it?”

“Yes, something very nice,” the uncle answered, “but she has not gotten it yet; one can’t see it, but one can hear it.”

“Oh, a piano,” Maezli guessed quickly.

“No, no, Maezli; you might see as much as that,” said the uncle.  “You couldn’t possibly guess it.  It can’t come out till all the small birds are tucked into their nests and everything is still and quiet.”

Maezli ran to her table at last and when she found a perfect array of shining copper kettles, cooking pans and pots in her box she forgot completely about the horses.  She dug with growing astonishment into her box, which seemed to be filled with ever new and more marvellous objects.  Lippo was standing up his beautifully saddled horses in front of him, but the thing he liked best of all was a groom in a red jacket.  He put him first on one horse and then on all the others, for, to the boy’s great delight, he fitted into every saddle.  He sat secure, straight and immovable even when the horses trotted or galloped.