The names were all written down first, then came the task of deciding upon the gifts.

“We will take your lists in turn, beginning with Max’s and ending with Gracie’s,” the captain said.

That part of the work required no little consultation between the three children; papa’s advice was asked in every instance, and almost always decided the question; but, glancing over the lists when completed, “I think, my dears, you have laid out too much work for yourselves,” he said.

“But I thought you always liked us to be industrious, papa,” said Lulu.

“Yes, daughter, but not overworked; I can not have that; nor can I allow you to neglect your studies, omit needed exercise, or go without sufficient sleep to keep you in health.”

“Papa, you always make taking good care of us the first thing,” she said gratefully, nestling closer to him.

“Don’t you know that’s what fathers are for?” he said, smiling down on her.  “My children were given me to be taken care of, provided for, loved and trained up aright.  A precious charge!” he added, looking from one to another with glistening eyes.

“Yes, sir, I know,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder and slipping a hand into his, “and oh but I’m glad and thankful that God gave me to you instead of to somebody else!”

“And Gracie and I are just as glad to belong to papa as you are,” said Max, Grace adding, “Yes, indeed!” as she held up her face for a kiss, which her father gave very heartily.

“But, papa, what are we to do about the presents if we mustn’t take time to make them?” asked Lulu.

“Make fewer and buy more.”

“But maybe the money won’t hold out.”

“You will have to make it hold out by choosing less expensive articles, or giving fewer gifts.”

“We’ll have to try hard to earn the quarter for good behavior every day, Lu,” said Max.

“Yes, I mean to; but that won’t help with Christmas gifts; it’s only for benevolence, you know.”

“But what you give to the poor, simply because they are poor and needy, may be considered benevolence, I think,” said their father.

“Oh may it?” she exclaimed.  “I’m glad of that!  Papa, I—­haven’t liked Dick very much since he chopped up the cradle I’d carved for Gracie’s dolls, but I believe I want to give him a Christmas present; it will help me to forgive him and like him better.  But I don’t know what would please him best.”

“Something to make a noise with,” suggested Max; “a drum or trumpet for instance.”

“He’d make too much racket,” she objected.

“How would a hatchet do?” asked Max, with waggish look and smile.

“Not at all; he isn’t fit to be trusted with one,” returned Lulu, promptly.  “Papa, what do you think would be a suitable present for him?”

“A book with bright pictures and short stories told very simply in words of one or two syllables.  Dick is going to school and learning to read, and I think such a gift would be both enjoyable and useful to him.”