Susy received several pretty things; and though she did not talk quite so much as Prudy, she was just as happy. For one thing, she had what she had not dreamed was possible for a little girl--a bottle of otto of rose; "just like a young lady."

This was a real delight to Susy: but Prudy, sniffing at it, said, coolly, "O, ho! it smells 's if it didn't cost more'n a cent! 'Tisn't half so sweet as pep'mint!"

Before Dotty could be put to bed, she had contrived to break several toys, all of which happened to be Susy's--a sugar temple, a gla.s.s pitcher, and a small vase.

This was an evening long to be remembered; but the most remarkable event of all was to come.

"Susy, my daughter," said Mr. Parlin, "have you been wondering why you don't see a present from me?"

Susy blushed. She had certainly expected something handsome this year from her father.

"I haven't forgotten you, my dear; but the present I have chosen wouldn't sit very well on the shoulders of such a little fellow as Santa Claus."

Percy laughed. "Wouldn't it have been a load, uncle?"

"Hush!" whispered aunt Madge; "she isn't to know till morning."

"But, papa," said Susy, her eyes shining with excitement, "why couldn't you bring it in here now?"

"It is better off out of doors. Indeed, to tell the truth, my child, it is hardly suitable for the parlor."

"Now, Miss Susy," said Percy, measuring off his words on the tips of his fingers, "I'm authorized to tell you it's something you mustn't take in your lap, mustn't hang on a nail; if you do, you'll lose it. I'm sure 'twill please you, Susy, because it's a mute, and can't speak. You--"

"O, hush talking about dumb people! I shouldn't think you'd make sport of Freddy Jackson! If _you_ was a little _deaf-and-dumber_ than you are now, I'd like you better!

"O, dear, dear!" cried she, dancing about the room; "what can it be? I can't wait!"

"Only think; all night before I'll know," thought she, as she touched her pillow. "O, Prudy, to-morrow morning! Only think of to-morrow morning I All my other presents are just nothing at all. Anything is _so_ much nicer when you don't know what it is!"

CHAPTER IV.

SUSY'S WINGS.

Susy awoke next morning very much surprised to find the sun so high.

Prudy was lying beside her, talking to herself.

"I don't feel very well," said the child; "but I'm pleasant; I mean to be good all day."

"Why didn't you speak to me?" cried Susy, springing out of bed, "when you knew how I couldn't wait to see my present?"

"I would have woke you up, Susy, but I ain't well; I'm sick in my knees."

And Prudy limped about the room to show her sister how lame she was.

But Susy was in too great a hurry to pay much attention to her, or to help her dress.

"Good morning, papa!" she exclaimed, the moment she entered the parlor; "now may I see the present?"

"Do you suppose you could wait till after breakfast, Susy?"

Aunt Madge smiled as she looked at the little eager face.

"I see you are going on with your lessons," said she.

"What lessons, auntie? Why, it is the holidays!"

"Lessons in patience, my dear. Isn't something always happening which you have to be patient about?"

Susy thought of Prudy's habit of disclosing secrets, Dotty's trying way of destroying playthings; and now this long delay about her present. She began to think there were a great many vexations in the world, and that she bore them remarkably well for such a little girl.

"Yes, thee must let patience have her perfect work, Susan," said grandma Read, after the "silent blessing" had been asked at the table.

"Mayn't I go, too?" said Prudy, when she saw her father, her auntie, and Susy leaving the house just after breakfast.

And she went, as a matter of course; but the pavements were a little slippery from sleet; and Prudy, who was never a famous walker, had as much as she could do, even with the help of her father's hand, to keep from falling.

"Why, Prudy," said Mr. Parlin, "what ails you this morning? You limp so much that I believe you need crutches."

"I'm sick in my knee," replied Prudy, delighted to see that her lameness was observed. "If _you_ had my knee, and it hurt, you'd know how it feels!"

By this time they had reached a livery stable; and, to Susy's surprise, her father stopped short, and said to a man who stood by the door, "Mr.

Hill, my daughter has come to look at her pony."

Prudy was in a great fright at sight of so many horses, and needed all her auntie's attention; but Susy had no fear, and Mr. Parlin led her along to a stall where stood a beautiful black pony, as gentle-looking as a Newfoundland dog.

"How do you like him, Susy? Stroke his face, and talk to him."

"But, O, papa, you don't mean, you can't mean, he's my very own! A whole pony all to myself!"

"See what you think of his saddle, miss," said Mr. Hill, laughing at Susy's eagerness; and he led pony out, and threw over his back a handsome side-saddle.

"Why, it seems as if I could just jump on without anybody touching me,"

cried Susy.

"Not afraid a bit?" said Mr. Hill, as Mr. Parlin seated Susy in the saddle, and gave her the reins. "Ponies throw people, sometimes."

"O, but my papa would never give me a bad pony," answered Susy, with perfect confidence.

Mr. Hill laughed again. He was a rough man; but he thought a child's faith in a parent was a beautiful thing.

He did not know many pa.s.sages of Scripture, but thought he had read somewhere, "And if he ask bread, will he give him a stone?" No; fathers are glad to give their "best gifts," and the little ones trust them.

"It's like sailing in a boat," cried Susy, riding back and forth about the yard in great excitement; "why, it's just as easy as the swing in the oilnut-tree at grandma Parlin's! O, papa, to think I should forget to thank you!"

But perhaps Mr. Parlin regarded glowing cheeks and shining eyes as the very best of thanks.