then examined Hugh's train and Betty's cooking-stove, and found them
intact, with, the exception of a saucepan lid. This, after a search,
we found under the wardrobe. Why do things always go under things? Jane
didn't know--she only knew they did. Then I opened the door and called.

Suddenly I heard a noise unearthly in its shrillness: it was Hugh
calling his Aunt Woggles. He threw himself into my arms, keeping one
eye, I could not help noticing, on the parcels. During the hug, which
gave him plenty of time to make up his mind, he evidently decided
which was for him; for he relaxed his hold and went to the table by the
window, on which the parcels lay, whistling in as careless a manner as a
boy bursting with excitement could do. First of all he stood on one leg,
then on the other, and looked knowingly at me out of the corner of his
eye. He was too honest to pretend that he thought the parcel was for
some other boy, since there was no other. When the excitement became
more than he could bear, he sang in a sing-song voice, "I see it, I see
it!"

"Open it, then," I said, which he proceeded to do with great energy, if
with little success.

"I b'lieve it's a knife with things in it," he said.

My heart sank. "Oh, it's much too big for a knife, Hugh," I replied.

"I 'spect it is, all the same," he said with a nod; "you've made it big
on purpose; I positively know you have."

At last it was opened, and I said, aunt-like, "Do you like it, Hugh?"

"Awfully, thanks." Then he added a little wistfully, "Tommy's got a
knife with things in it, a button'ook."

Perhaps he saw I looked disappointed, for he added magnanimously, "I
like trains next best, Aunt Woggles; only you see I didn't exactly pray
for a train, that's why. What's Betty's?"

"Betty must open it herself."

"Don't you suppose," he said, "that she would like me to open it for
her, because it is a hard thing opening parcels--and Betty says I may
always open all her parcels when she is out."

"Hugh!" I exclaimed.

He rushed to the door. "Come on, Betty," he shouted. "Aunt Woggles wants
you."

If Betty's entrance was less tempestuous than Hugh's, her embrace was
not less ecstatic. She put her arms round my neck and took her legs off
the ground,--a quite simple process, and known to most aunts, I expect.
The ultimate result would, no doubt, be strangulation. No one knows, of
course, but among aunts it is a very general belief. Unlike Hugh, Betty
kept her eyes