“Nobody hurt, I guess,” said Tom.

“Been down to the ice?” asked the boy, eagerly.  “I could see the skaters from Patton’s store.  O, I see, you got some new skates for Christmas!  Ain’t they beauties, now?” And he beamed on the despised “Jolly Ramblers” with his heart in his little blue eyes.

“A pretty good little pair of skates,” said Tom, in Ralph’s condescending tone.

“Good!  Well I should guess yes!  And Christmas ice just made o’ purpose!” In spite of his ill humor, Tom could not help responding to the warm interest of the shabby boy at his side.  He knew him to be Harvey McGinnis, the son of a poor Irish widow, who worked at Patton’s department store out of school hours.  Looking at the great box with an awakening interest, he remarked, kindly, “What you been doin’ with yourself on Christmas day?”

“Want to know, sure enough?” said Harvey, mysteriously, his round face beaming more brightly than ever, “Well, I’ve been doin’ the Santy Claus act down at Patton’s store.

“About a week ago,” he went on, leaning back easily against the tall building and thrusting his hands down deep into his well worn pockets, “about a week ago, as I was cleaning out the storeroom, I came on three big boxes with broken dolls in ’em.  Beauties they were, I kin tell you, the Lady Jane in a blue silk dress, the Lady Clarabel in pink, and the Lady Matilda in shimmerin’ white.  Nothin’ wrong with ’em either only broken rubbers that put their jints out o’ whack and set their heads arollin’ this way and that.  ’They could be fixed in no time, I ses to myself, ’and what a prize they’d be fer the kids to be sure!’ For mom and me had racked our brains considerable how we’d scrape together the money for Christmas things for the girls.

“So I went to the boss and I asked him right out what he’d charge me for the three ladies just as they wus, and he ses, ‘Jimmie,’ he ses (I’ve told him me name a dozen times, but he allus calls me ’Jimmie’), ‘Jimmie,’ he ses, ’if you’ll come down on Christmas day and help me take down the fixin’s and fix up the store for regular trade, I’ll give you the dolls fer nothin’,’ he ses.

“So I explained to the kids that Santy’d be late to our house this year (with so many to see after it wouldn’t be strange) and went down to the store early this morning and finished me work and fixed up the ladies es good es new.  Would you like to be seein’ ’em, now?” he added, turning to the great box with a look of pride.

“Sure, I’d like to see ’em,” said Tom.

With careful, almost reverent touch, Harvey untied the string and opened the large box, disclosing three smaller boxes, one above the other.  Opening the first box, he revealed a really handsome doll in a blue silk dress, with large dark eyes that opened and shut and dark, curling locks of “real hair.”

“This is the Lady Jane,” he said, smoothing her gay frock with gentle fingers.  “We’re goin’ to give her to Kitty.  Kitty’s hair is pretty and curly, but she hates it, ’cause it’s red; and she thinks black hair is the prettiest kind in the world.  Ain’t it funny how all of us will be wantin’ what we don’t have ourselves?”