angs. It made Tiger Lily very
nervous. He tried to get under everything. It took us most all the
afternoon to get him out.

The little boy's name was Dicky. He wasn't at home. "Come again," said
the man at the door. We came again about eight o'clock at night. It
seemed as late as Christmas Eve and sort of lonely without our Parents
or any other presents. We had to climb a lot of stairs. It made Tiger
Lily puff a little and look very glad. It made our Uncle Peter puff some
too. It made the little boy's Mother puff a good deal. There wasn't any
Father. The Mother was all in black about it. Her clothes looked very
sorrowful. But her face was just sort of surprised. She had white hands.
She carried them all curved up like pond-lilies. She was pretty. Even
if you'd never seen her but once in a train window you'd always have
remembered.

The little boy's room was very large and full of lights. There were
tinkly glass things hanging everywhere. There was a music-box playing.
There was a tin railroad train running round and round the room all by
itself making a bangy noise. There was a wound-up bird in a toy cage
crying "Hi! Hi!" There was a crackling fire. Everything was tinkling or
playing or singing or banging or crackling. It sounded busy. You had to
talk very loud to make any one hear you.

The little boy sat on top of a table in a big bay window looking out at
the night. His knees were all cuddled up into the curve of his arms. He
had on a little red wrapper and bare legs and fur slippers. He was lots
littler than us. He looked cunning.

We stamped our feet on the rug.

"Here's your dog!" I said.

When the little boy saw Tiger Lilly he jumped right down from the table
and screamed. It was with joy that he screamed. He threw his arms right
around Tiger Lily's neck and screamed all over again. Tiger Lily liked
it very much.

"What makes his paws so fluffy?" he screamed. "How soft his face is!
He's got sweet eyes! He's got a sad tail! What's his name? Where did you
get him? Is he for me? Do I have to pay money for him? What does he eat?
Will he drink coffee?" Just as though he was mad about something he
began suddenly to jump up and down and cry tears. "Why doesn't somebody
answer me?" he screamed. "Why doesn't somebody tell me?"

He got so excited about it that he hit Carol on the nose and blooded him
quite a good deal.

The little boy's mother came running.

"Oh hush--hush, Dicky!" she cried. "Don't be in such