“Well, it does seem so at first, but, now, how much better to give me that than to present me with something that I could look at for a few days and then would have no further use for!”

“That’s so, pa,” said Mollie.

“I guess you’re right,” said Tommie.  “Wat cher got for ma?”

“I have given her a brand-new set of china for the dining-room,” said Mr. Carraway.

“And it was just what I needed,” said Mrs. Carraway, happily.  “And now, children, go up-stairs, and bring down your presents for your father.”

The children sped noisily out of the room and up the stairs.

“I hope you impressed it on their minds that I wanted nothing useless?” said Carraway.

“I did,” said Mrs. Carraway.  “I explained the whole thing to them, and told them what they might expect to receive.  Then I gave them each ten dollars of the money they’d saved, and let them go shopping on their own account.  I don’t know what they bought you, but it’s something huge.”

Mrs. Carraway had hardly finished when the two giggling tots came into the room, carrying with difficulty a parcel, which, as Mrs. Carraway had said, was indeed huge.  Mr. Carraway eyed it with curiosity as the string was unfastened and the package burst open.

“There,” cried Tommie, breathlessly.

“It’s all for you, pa, from Mollie and me.”  The two children stood to one side.  Mrs. Carraway appeared surprised in an amused fashion, while Carraway stood appalled at what lay before him, as well he might; for the package contained a great wax doll with deep staring blue eyes, a small doll’s house with two floors in it and a front door that opened, china and chairs and table and bureaus in miniature to furnish the house—­indeed, all the paraphernalia of a well-ordered residence for a French doll.  Besides these were two boxes of tin soldiers, cannon, tents, swords, a fully equipped lead army, a mechanical fish, and a small zinc steamboat, suitable for a cruise in a bath-tub.

Carraway looked at the children, and the children looked at Carraway.

“Why,” said he, as soon as he could recover his equanimity, “there must be some mistake.”

“No,” said Mollie.  “We picked ’em out for you ourselves.  We thought you’d need ’em.”

Mrs. Carraway turned away to cough slightly.

“Need them?” demanded Carraway with a perplexed frown.  “When?”

“Oh—­to-morrow,” said Tommie.

“What for?” demanded Carraway.

“Why, to give to us, of course” said the children in chorus.

* * * * *

“My dear,” said Carraway, two hours later, after the children had retired, “I’ve been thinking this thing over.”

“Yes?” said Mrs. Carraway.

“Yes,” said Carraway; “and I’ve made up my mind that those children of ours are born geniuses.  I don’t believe, after all, they could have selected anything which would be more satisfactorily useful in the present emergency.”