ooked
out of the window far down the trail that wound across the prairie,
red-lighted by the declining sun of the short wintry afternoon.

"Do people always sigh like that when they get to be sixteen?" asked
Jimmy curiously. "You didn't sigh like that when you were only
fifteen, Theodora. I wish you wouldn't. It makes me feel funny--and
it's not a nice kind of funniness either."

"It's a bad habit I've got into lately," said Theodora, trying to
laugh. "Old folks are dull sometimes, you know, Jimmy-boy."

"Sixteen _is_ awful old, isn't it?" said Jimmy reflectively. "I'll
tell you what _I'm_ going to do when I'm sixteen, Theodora. I'm going
to pay off the mortgage, and buy mother a silk dress, and a piano for
the twins. Won't that be elegant? I'll be able to do that 'cause I'm a
man. Of course if I was only a girl I couldn't."

"I hope you'll be a good kind brave man and a real help to your
mother," said Theodora softly, sitting down before the cosy fire and
lifting the fat little twins into her lap.

"Oh, I'll be good to her, never you fear," assured Jimmy, squatting
comfortably down on the little fur rug before the stove--the skin of
the coyote his father had killed four years ago. "I believe in being
good to your mother when you've only got the one. Now tell us a story,
Theodora--a real jolly story, you know, with lots of fighting in it.
Only please don't kill anybody. I like to hear about fighting, but I
like to have all the people come out alive."

Theodora laughed, and began a story about the Riel Rebellion of '85--a
story which had the double merit of being true and exciting at the
same time. It was quite dark when she finished, and the twins were
nodding, but Jimmy's eyes were wide open and sparkling.

"That was great," he said, drawing a long breath. "Tell us another."

"No, it's bedtime for you all," said Theodora firmly. "One story at a
time is my rule, you know."

"But I want to sit up till Mother comes home," objected Jimmy.

"You can't. She may be very late, for she would have to wait to see
Mr. Porter. Besides, you don't know what time Santa Claus might
come--if he comes at all. If he were to drive along and see you
children up instead of being sound asleep in bed, he might go right on
and never call at all."

This argument was too much for Jimmy.

"All right, we'll go. But we have to hang up our stockings first.
Twins, get yours."

The twins toddled off in great excitement, and brought back