On the way downtown he made his plans and arranged his list. He wished it were longer--that list. Three names were hardly sufficient to demonstrate his theories and display his ability. As for Aunt Harriet, Jimmy, and Uncle Harold being "impossible"--that was all nonsense, as he had said; and before his eyes rose a vision of the three: Aunt Harriet, a middle-aged spinster, poor, half-sick, and chronically discontented with the world; Jimmy, a white-faced lad who was always reading a book; and Uncle Harold, red-faced, red-headed, and--red-tempered. (Jasper smiled all to himself at this last thought.) "Red-tempered"--that was good. He would tell Edith--but he would not tell others. Witticisms at the expense of a rich old bachelor uncle whose heir was a matter of his own choosing were best kept pretty much to one's self. Edith was right, however, in one thing, Jasper decided: Uncle Harold surely could not be given a "paltry" present. He must be given something fine, expensive, and desirable--something that one would like one's self. And immediately there popped into Jasper's mind the thought of a certain exquisitely carved meerschaum which he had seen in a window and which he had greatly coveted. As for Aunt Harriet and Jimmy--their case was too simple for even a second thought: to one he would give a pair of bed-slippers; to the other, a book. Some minutes later Jasper Hawkins tucked into his pocketbook an oblong bit of paper on which had been neatly written:-- Presents to be bought for Christmas, 1908: Aunt Harriet, spinster, 58(?) years old--Bed-slippers. Uncle Harold, bachelor, 65 years old--Pipe. Jimmy, boy, 12 years old--Book. In the office of Hawkins & Hawkins that morning, the senior member of the firm found a man waiting for him. This man was the emissary of his mighty chief, and upon this chief rested the whole structure of a "deal" which was just then looming large on the horizon of Hawkins & Hawkins--and in which the oblong bit of paper in Jasper's pocketbook had no part. Mrs. Jasper Hawkins greeted her husband with palpitating interest that evening. "Well--what did you get?" she asked. The man of business lifted his chin triumphantly. "Not everything we asked for, to be sure," he began, "but we got more than we expected to, and--" He stopped abruptly. The expression on his wife's face had suddenly reminded him that by no possible chance could she know what he was talking about. "Er--what do you mean?" he demanded. "Why, Jasper, there's only one thing I could mean--the presents, you know!" A curious something clutched at Jasper's breath and held it for a moment suspended. Then Jasper throttled the something, and raised his chin even higher. "Time enough for that to-morrow," he retorted lightly. "I did n't promise to get them to-day, you know." "But, Jasper, to-morrow 's the 22d!" "And three whole days before Christmas." "Yes, but they must be sent the 24th."