n occasions like the present.

"Writing Christmas letters, eh?" boomed the General loudly. "Sending
off your presents, I suppose. Eh, what? _Thanking_ people for
presents, do you say? That's a bit previous, isn't it? What's the
hurry?"

"Oh, there's always so much going on after Christmas, when the boys are
at home, and it's such a bore sticking in the house writing letters. I
use up the odd times before, in getting them as ready as I can, and then
it only takes a minute to fill in the spaces."

She held out a specimen letter as she spoke, and, looking at it, General
Digby went off into such a convulsion of laughter, coughing, and panting
for breath, that he presented a truly alarming spectacle. The
protuberant eyes protruded farther and farther, the tuft of grey hair
seemed to rear itself more stiffly erect, his cheeks changed from red to
purple. It was not a time for ceremony, and Jill promptly pounded him
on the back until he recovered himself sufficiently to shake her off,
declaring forcibly that the cure was worse than the disease. Then he
subsided into a chair, and wiped his eyes elaborately with a bandana
handkerchief.

"Where's my letter?" he inquired. "I suppose there's one addressed to
me among all that number. Was I as fortunate as the rest in sending
just what was wanted? You are a young woman of a great many wants, it
seems to me. Tell you what now: I'll strike a bargain! Fill up the
blanks, and I'll see if I can come up to expectation! Eh, what?"

"Oh no!" cried Jill, blushing with an embarrassment which yet had in it
a fearful joy, for who would have thought that such a new friend would
enrol himself in the blessed ranks of present-givers? "There is no
letter for you. I truly never thought you would give us anything," she
explained hesitatingly. "I couldn't possibly choose myself. It's
awfully good of you to think of it, but, really, anything--It's like
this, you see; I want everything I can get!"

"Oh, you do, do you?" cried the General, beginning to shake again in the
old, alarming, jelly-like fashion. "Nothing like honesty in this world,
my dear. Well, well, we must see what we can do! I'll bend my great
mind to the question, and you shall know the result on Christmas Day."

Jill smiled uncertainly. Already she was beginning to repent her
modesty. Suppose she had taken her courage into her hands, and had said
boldly, "A gold watch," could it possibly have been true that t