e wrappings.

"A. Phoole's Pure Silk Thread Hose,--Guaranteed!" This they read from
the box--neat golden lettering. It was enough for the twins. With cries
of perfect bliss they flung themselves upon their father, kissing him
rapturously wherever their lips might touch.

"Oh, papa!" "Oh, you darling!" And then, when they had some sort of
control of their joy, Lark said solemnly, "Papa, it is a gift from
Heaven!"

"Of course, we give you the credit, papa," Carol amended quickly, "but
the thought was Heaven-prompted."

Fairy choked suddenly, and her fit of coughing interfered with the
twins' gratitude to an all-suggesting Providence!

Carol twisted her box nervously. "You know, papa, it may seem very
childish, and--silly to you, but--actually--we have--well, prayed for
silk stockings. We didn't honestly expect to get them, though--not until
we saved up money enough to get them ourselves. Heaven is kinder to us
than we--"

"You can't understand such things, papa," said Lark. "Maybe you don't
know exactly how--how they feel. When we go to Betty Hill's we wear her
silk stockings and lie on the bed--and--she won't let us walk in them,
for fear we may wear holes. Every girl in our class has at least one
pair,--Betty has three, but one pair's holey, and--we felt so awfully
poor!"

The smiles on the family faces were rather stereotyped by this
time, but the exulting twins did not notice. Lark looked at Carol
fondly. Carol sighed at Lark blissfully. Then, with one accord,
they lifted the covers from the boxes and drew out the shimmering
hose. Yes,--shimmering--but--they shook them out for inspection!
Their faces paled a little.

"They--they are very--" began Carol courageously. Then she stopped.

The hose were a fine tissue-paper imitation of silk stockings! The
"April Fool, little twins," on the toes was not necessary for their
enlightenment. They looked at their father with sad but unresentful
reproach in their swiftly shadowed eyes.

"It--it's a good joke," stammered Carol, moistening her dry lips with
her tongue.

"It's--one on us," blurted Lark promptly.

"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Carol, slowly, dryly, very dully.

"Yes--ha, ha, ha," echoed Lark, placing the bitter fruit carefully back
in its box. Her fingers actually trembled.

"It's a--swell joke, all right," Carol said, "we see that well
enough,--we're not stupid, you know. But we did want some silk stockings
so--awfully bad. But it's funny, ha, ha, ha!"