“I didn’t grumble much, did I, Sister?” interposed Brother.  “Haven’t I grown, Ralph?”

“Yes, I think you have—­enough to have what I have brought you,” returned Ralph cheerfully.  “Here, now, tell me what you think of this.”

He stooped down and lifted the lid of the basket.  Then he tipped it over on one side and out rolled the fattest brown and white collie puppy dog you ever saw!

“Oh!  Oh!  Oh!” shrieked Brother and Sister together.  “What a perfectly dear little puppy!”

“He’s yours, Brother,” said Ralph, smiling like the dear big brother he was.  “Yours to take care of and love, and to name.”

“Hasn’t he any name?” asked Brother, hugging the fat puppy, who seemed to like it and tried to say so with his little red tongue.  “I don’t know what to name a puppy dog.”

“Call him ‘Brownie,’” suggested Sister, down on her knees on the floor, watching the dog with shining eyes.  “I think that is a nice name.”

“So do I,” agreed Brother.

“I do, too,” said Ralph.  “And now you must get dressed if you are not to be late for breakfast; and I must go down now—­I have to take an earlier train in.”

“Won’t you come to the party?” begged Sister, as Ralph stood up to go.

“Don’t believe I’ll be home in time,” he answered.  “But you can tell me all about it and that will be almost as nice.”

Mother Morrison came in to help them dress and she kissed Brother six times because it was his birthday.  He wore a new blue sailor suit, and Sister put on her next-to-the-best hair-ribbon in his honor.

“I like birthdays,” sighed Brother, slipping into his seat at the breakfast table and eyeing the little heap of bundles at his plate with great delight.  “Look at my puppy dog, Dick.”

“Well, that is a nice pup,” admitted Dick, putting down his paper.  “Have you named him yet?”

“Name’s Brownie—­Betty thought of it,” replied Brother.  “Can he have cereal, Mother?  And Daddy wrote on this box, didn’t he?” The little boy picked up a box wrapped in paper,

“Now just a minute,” said Mother Morrison firmly.  “The dog can’t eat at the table, dear; put him down until you have finished breakfast.  I don’t want you to open the parcels, either, until you have had your milk and cereal.  But those two on top you may open —­they are from Daddy and Dick and they’re going to leave in ten minutes.”

Brother opened the two packages eagerly.  That from Daddy Morrison was a little wooden block and a set of rubber type with an ink-pad, so that Brother might play at printing.  He knew his letters and, if someone helped him, could spell a number of words.  Dick’s parcel contained a little silver collar for the new puppy, so made that it could be made larger for him as he grew.

“Oh, Dick!” Brother flung himself upon that pleased young man and kissed him heartily.  Somehow Brother seldom kissed Dick, although he loved him dearly.  “It’s the nicest collar!”