“Why not, as well as the trumpery which is put on?” asked Tom contemptuously. “I tell you the whole thing is getting to be a bore. Even the small fry don’t care for it half so much as they think they do; there’s Nannie sulking this minute because her dollie, which she has deserted, is not so nice according to her notion as Lily’s is. And Ted has turned his back on the whole of it because he didn’t get a drum. This crowd needs something new.” “I don’t know what it would be; we have had everything imaginable, and if the simple truth were told need presents less than any young folks in the kingdom, I do suppose. My father says there is nothing new to get for pampered young people like us; and I don’t know but he is about right.” “There’s a whole lot of money spent about it every year, though.” This was from Hortense, the oldest of the girl cousins, and a sort of adviser of the two older boys. “I know it,” said Holly; “and a good deal of it is wasted. Nannie, for instance, did not need another doll any more than the cat needs two tails, and as for me I have seven jack-knives now.” At that moment Helen turned away from the paint brush which she had not noticed, and joined in the conversation. “Isn’t it funny? I have five new balls, and I don’t care for any of them. They keep giving us the same things over and over.” “They forget,” said Holly; “and there is nothing new for them to get us, anyhow.” “I know something that would be new.” It was Hortense again, speaking with grave thoughtfulness. The boys turned and looked at her inquiringly. “Don’t you know what Mr. Briggs told about the children out in the Colorado mountains, who never had a Christmas present in their lives, and didn’t know anything about such times as we have? I was thinking what if we could make up a box and put into it all the dollies, and balls, and jack-knives, and things that we don’t want, and some books, and perhaps a little candy, and send it out there, wouldn’t it be nice?” [Illustration: THEIR FACES WERE ALREADY SOBERING.] “Too late for this year,” said Tom promptly. “Why, no, it isn’t; if we hadn’t had any Christmas at all, ever, we would be willing to have one come to us in January.” The boys laughed, and Holly said heartily, “That’s so.” And Hortense began to tell a story that she had heard Mr. Briggs tell to her uncle, and the younger ones gathered about her, leaving dolls and paints, and the interest grew. It was the very next day that Hortense and Tom and Holly went to Dr. Parsons’ house to see Mr. Briggs.