Patty's Success. Wells Carolyn

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СКАЧАТЬ you dear, good, lovely father!” cried Patty, embracing him. “Will you give it to me now, and how much will it be?”

      “Patty,” said Nan, laughing, “you’re positively sordid! I never saw you so greedy for money before.”

      Patty laughed outright. Now that she had gained her point she felt in gay spirits.

      “Friends,” she said, “you see before you a pauper,—a penniless pauper! Therefore, and because of which, and by reason of the fact that I am in immediate need of money, I stoop to this means of obtaining it, and, as aforesaid, I’d like it now!”

      She held out her rosy palm to her father, and stood waiting expectantly.

      “Only one hand!” exclaimed Mr. Fairfield, in surprise. “I thought such a grasping young woman would expect both hands filled.”

      “All right,” said Patty, and she promptly extended her other palm, too.

      Putting both his hands in his pockets, Mr. Fairfield drew them out again, and then laid a ten-dollar goldpiece on each of Patty’s outstretched palms.

      “Oh, you dear daddy!” she cried, as she clasped the gold in her fingers; “you lovely parent! This is the nicest Christmas gift I ever had, and now I’ll tell you all about it.”

      So she told them, quite seriously, how she had really forgotten to give the poor and the suffering any share of her own Christmas cheer, and how this was the only way she could think of to remedy her neglect.

      “And it’s so lovely,” she concluded; “for there are forty little boy-children. And with this money I can get them each a fifty-cent present.”

      “So you can,” said Nan. “I’ll go with you to-morrow to select them. And if we can get some cheaper than fifty cents, and I think we can, you’ll have a little left for extras.”

      “That’s so,” agreed Patty. “They often have lovely toys for about thirty-nine cents, and I could get some marbles or something to fill up.”

      “To fill up what?” asked her father.

      “Oh, to fill up the tree. Or I’ll get some ornaments, or some tinsel to decorate it. Oh, father, you are so good to me! This is a lovely Christmas present.”

      CHAPTER III

      THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS

      Mr. Fairfield’s gift to his wife was a beautiful motor-car, and as they were going away for the holiday, he presented it to her the day before Christmas.

      It was practically a gift to Patty as well, for the whole family could enjoy it.

      “It’s perfectly lovely,” said Nan, as they all started out for a little spin, to try it. “I’ve had so much trouble of late with taxicabs, that it’s a genuine comfort to have my own car at my beck and call. It’s a lovely car, Fred, and Patty and I shall just about live in it.”

      “I want you to enjoy it,” returned Mr. Fairfield, “and you may have every confidence in the chauffeur. He’s most highly recommended by a man I know well, and he’s both careful and skilful.”

      “A nice-mannered man, too,” observed Patty. “I like his looks, and his mode of address. But if this car is partly my present, then I ought not to have had that gold money to buy drums with.”

      “Oh, yes, you ought,” said her father. “That was your individual gift. In this car you and Nan are partners. By the way, Puss, did you ever get your forty drums? I didn’t hear about them.”

      “You’re lucky that you didn’t hear them,” laughed Patty. “Yes, I did get them,—not all drums, some other toys,—and I took them down to the Sunshine place yesterday. I went with Mrs. Morse and Clementine. You know the kiddywids had their Christmas tree, the little poor children, and such a noise you never heard! They yelled and shouted for glee, and they banged drums and tooted horns, and then they sang songs, and I think I never knew such a noisy celebration, even on the fourth of July.”

      “And were they glad to get your gifts?”

      “Oh, yes, indeed! Why, just think, father, the little girls all had dolls, but if I hadn’t taken the gifts for the boys, they would only have had candy or an orange. Next Christmas I’m going to do more for them.”

      “I’m glad to see your charitable spirit waking up, Patty-girl. I don’t want you to be a mere social butterfly. But, you know, you needn’t wait for Christmas to make the poor babies happy.”

      “No; I know it, daddy, dear; and after Christmas is over, I’m going to try to do some good in the world.”

      “Now, Patty,” said Nan, “don’t you go in for settlement work, and that sort of thing. I won’t let you. You’re not strong enough for it.”

      “I don’t know exactly what settlement work is,” said Patty, “but I do know I’m not going to be a mere butterfly. I’m going to accomplish something worth while.”

      “Well, wait till the holiday season is over,” advised Mr. Fairfield. “You’ve made forty boys happy, now turn your attention to making your family and friends happy. What are you going to give your poor old father for a Christmas gift, I should like to know.”

      “I haven’t any such relative as you describe,” returned Patty, smiling at him affectionately. “I have a young and handsome father, and I think he seems to be rather a rich gentleman. Also I have a gift awaiting him at home, and I think we’d better be going there.”

      “I do, too,” said Nan. “We’ve none too much time to get our luncheon and go to the train. Oh! what a comfort it will be to go to the train in our own motor-car.”

      “Yes,” said Patty, “and then Miller can come back and take me over to Elise’s.”

      So home they went, and had their own little Christmas celebration, before they went their separate ways.

      “This is a make-believe Christmas feast,” said Patty, as they sat at their own luncheon table.

      She had placed a sprig of holly at each plate, and a vase of poinsettia blossoms graced the centre of the table.

      “This ox-tail soup is in place of the boar’s head,” she went on, gaily; “and I know we are going to have chicken croquettes, which we will pretend are the roast turkey. And then we’ll have our presents, as I know you two will fly for your train as soon as you leave the table.”

      So Patty gave Nan her present, which was a lovely white couch pillow of lace and embroidery. And Nan gave Patty a picture to hang in her own room. It was a beautiful water-colour, a Venetian scene, and Patty was delighted with it.

      Then Patty gave her father a gold penholder, which she had had made expressly for him, and engraved with his name.

      “Why, that’s fine, Pattykins!” he exclaimed. “I can only write poems with a pen like that. It’s not made for business letters, I’m sure.”

      “Of course it isn’t,” said Patty, gaily; “it’s to keep on your desk in the library here at home. And you must use it just for social correspondence or–”

      “Or to sign checks for us,” suggested Nan, smiling.

      “That’s СКАЧАТЬ