said, pulling gently at a ribbon bow, "then
they'll last longer."

"Now, isn't that just like you, Kit!" exclaimed Marjorie. "I'd snatch
the papers off so fast you couldn't see me jerk."

"I know you would," said Kitty, simply.

The sisters were very unlike, for Midget's ways were impulsive and
impatient, while Kitty was slow and careful. But finally the papers came
off, and revealed the lovely gifts.

Mrs. Maynard had made a pretty silk workbag, which could be spread out,
or gathered up close on its ribbon. When outspread, it showed a store of
needles and thread, of buttons, hooks, tapes,--everything a little girl
could need to keep her clothes in order.

"Oh, Mother, it's _perfect_!" cried Kitty, ecstatically. "I _love_ those
cunning little pockets, with all _sewy_ things in them! And a darling
silver thimble! And a silver tape measure, and a silver-topped emery!
Oh, I do believe I'll sew _all_ the time this summer!"

"Pooh, _I_ wouldn't!" said Marjorie. "The things _are_ lovely, but I'd
rather play than sew."

"Sewing _is_ play, I think," and Kitty fingered over her treasures
lovingly. "Grandma will help me with my patterns, and I'm going to piece
a silk teachest quilt. Oh, Mother, it will be _such_ fun!"

"Call _that_ fun!" and Marjorie looked disdainfully at her sister. "Fun
is racing around and playing tag, and cutting up jinks generally!"

"For you it is," Kitty agreed, amiably, "but not for me. I like what I
like."

"That's good philosophy, Kitty," said her father. "Stick to it always.
Like what you like, and don't be bothered by other people's comments or
opinions. Now, what's in that smallish, flattish, whitish parcel?"

The parcel in question proved to be a watch, a dear little gold watch.
Kitty had never owned one before, and it almost took her breath away.

"Mine?" she exclaimed, in wonder. "All mine?"

"Yes, every bit yours," said Mr. Maynard, smiling at her. "Every wheel
and spring, every one of its three hands, every one of its twelve hours
are all, all yours. Do you like it?"

"Like it! I can't think of any words to tell you how much I like it."

"I'll think of some for you," said the accommodating Marjorie. "You
could say it's the grandest, gloriousest, gorgeousest, magnificentest
present you ever had!"

"Yes, I could say that," Kitty agreed, "but I never should have thought
of it. I 'most always say a thing is lovely. Now, what in the world is
this?"

"This" proved to be a well-st