"It smells so sweet, and it crackles like silk!" "Kitty sent that," answered her mother, smiling, "and she wrote me that she made it herself." But at last the cereal-saucer was empty, and the ribbons could be untied.
Kitty's gift proved to be a lovely bag, of pink and blue Dresden silk.
"What's it for ?" asked King, not much impressed with its desirability.
"Oh, for anything!" cried Marjorie.

"Handkerchiefs,--or hair-ribbons,--or,--or just to hang up and look pretty." "Pretty foolish," opined King, but he greeted with joy the opening of the next bundle.
"Jumping Hornets!" he exclaimed; "isn't that a beauty! _Just_ what I wanted!" "Whose birthday is this, anyhow ?" laughed Marjorie, as she carefully unrolled the tissue-paper packing from a fine microscope.

Uncle Steve had sent it, and it was both valuable and practical, and a thing the children had long wished for.
"Well, you'll let a fellow take a peep once in a while, won't you ?" "Yes, if you'll be goody-boy," said Midget, patronizingly.
Grandma Sherwood's gift was a cover for a sofa-pillow, of rich Oriental fabric, embroidered in gold thread.
"Just the thing for my couch, at home," said Midget, greatly pleased.
"Just the thing to pitch at you, after it gets stuffed," commented King.
"Go on, Mops, open the big one." The big one proved to be a case, from Mother and Father, containing a complete set of brushes and toilet articles for Marjorie's dressing-table.

They were plain shapes, of ivory, with her monogram on each in dark blue.
"Gorgeous!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"Just what I longed for,--and so much nicer than silver, 'cause that has to be cleaned every minute.