Some magazines came next, and a few old books, upon which the boys fell greedily--though the books they soon threw to one side as if they were of little interest. Undergarments appeared then, plainly much worn and patched. To Genevieve they looked quite impossible. She almost cried when she saw how eagerly Mrs. Jones gathered the motley pile into her arms and began to sort them out with little exclamations of satisfaction. Next in the barrel were found an ink-stained apron, a bath-robe, nearly new--which plainly owed its presence to its hideous colors--two or three tin dishes (not new), a harmonica, a box containing a straw hat trimmed with drooping blue bows, several fans, a box of dominoes, a pocket-knife with a broken blade, several pairs of new hose, marked plainly "seconds," some sheets and pillow-cases (half-worn, but hailed with joy by Mrs. Jones), a kimono, an assortment of men's half-worn shoes--pounced upon at once by Paul and his father, and not abandoned until it was found that only two were mates, and only one of these good for much wear. It was at this point that there came a muffled shout from Ned, whose head was far down in the barrel. "Here's a package--a big one--and it's marked 'dress for Mrs. Jones.' Mother, you did get it, after all!" he cried, tumbling the package into his mother's lap. Tremblingly half a dozen pairs of hands attempted to untie the strings and to unwrap the coverings; then, across Mrs. Jones's lap there lay a tawdry dress of pale-blue silk, spotted and soiled. Pinned to it was a note in a scrawling feminine hand: "This will wash and make over nicely, I think, if you can't wear it just as it is." "We have so many chances to wear light-blue silk, too," was all that Mrs. Jones said. In the bottom of the barrel were a few new towels, very coarse, and some tablecloths and small, fringed napkins, also very coarse. "Well, I'm sure, these are handy," stammered the minister, who had not found his coat. "Oh, yes," answered his wife, wearily; "only--well, it so happens that every box for the last five years has held tea-napkins--and I don't give many teas, you know, dear." Genevieve choked back a sob. "I--I never saw such a--a horrid thing in all my life, as that barrel was," she stormed hotly. "I don't see what folks were thinking of--to send such things!" "They weren't thinking, my dear, and that's just what the trouble was," answered Mrs. Jones, gently. "They didn't think, nor understand. Besides, there are very many nice things here that we can use beautifully. There always are, in every box, only--of course, some things _aren't_ so useful." "I should say not!" snapped Genevieve. "Well, I didn't suppose anything could make me glad because Aunt Kate makes over the girls' things for me," spoke up Elsie Martin; "but something has now. She can't send them in any missionary boxes, anyhow!" Mrs. Jones laughed, though she looked still more disturbed.