"No, that won't do; grandma said we were to let the girls alone, and we shall lose our presents if we don't behave. You just lean up against the door, Joe, and if it flies open, why it is an accident, you know," said Alf the wise. So Joe, the fat cousin, backed up to the door like a young elephant, and leaned hard; but it was locked, and nothing came of it but a creak from the door, and a groan from Joe. "I'll look through the keyhole, and tell what I see," cried little Neddy; and no one forbade him, though, at any other time, big brother Frank would have cuffed his ears for daring to suggest such a prank. "There's something bright, and the girls are fussing round it. Kitty's got a lot of red and blue ribbons in her hand, and Grace is up in a chair, and Nell--oh, it's cake; a great dish full of the jolliest kinds, and bon-bons, and sugared fruit, just the sort I like. I say, knock the door down, some of you big fellows, and let's have one grab!" cried Neddy, maddened by the sight of the forbidden sweeties. "Be quiet, and take another peep; it's rather interesting to hear what's going on," said Frank, reposing upon the sofa like the Great Mogul, as the boys called him. Poor little Tantalus obediently applied his eye to the keyhole, but fell back with a blank face, saying in a despairing tone: "They've plugged it up, and I can't see a thing!" "Serves you right; if you'd held your tongue they never would have known what you were about," was Frank's ungrateful answer. A stifled giggle from the other side of the door caused a dead silence to pervade the breakfast-room for several minutes, while Neddy wriggled out of sight under the sofa as if to escape from the finger of scorn. Suddenly Tom cried in a shrill whisper, "I've got it!" and pointed to a ventilator over the door. A simultaneous rush of boys and chairs took place; but Tom claimed the rights of a discoverer, and, softly mounting an improvised ladder of tables and stools, he peered eagerly through the glass, while impatient hands plucked at his legs, and the pressure of the mob caused his perch to totter perilously. The spectacle which he beheld would have touched the heart of any little girl, but to an unappreciative boy it possessed no charm, for it was only a doll's Christmas tree. For weeks, the young mammas had been making pretty things for their wooden, wax, or porcelain darlings, and it was excellent practice, since many a pair of hands that scorned patchwork and towels, labored patiently over small gowns, trimmed gay hats, and wrought wonders in worsted, without a sigh.