"And when you come to-night, I want each of you to wear a huge bow of crêpe paper on your hair, and--what have you there, Jane?"
Mrs. Montgomery, although beyond her fortieth year, had the fresh and youthfully bright face of a girl of eighteen. She was one of those splendidly large women who retain a vivid interest in life and all its details, and Mrs. Vandyne, who was smaller and lesser in every way, was her Riverbank counterpart.
"Nothing much," Mrs. Vandyne answered, dipping her hand into the sack. "But it was kind of the man to send what he could. Wooden spoons, I suppose. Well, will you look at this, Anna?"
It was one of the "funny cats." Mrs. Vandyne held it up, that all the ladies might see.
"How _perfectly_ ridiculous!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilcox. "What _do_ you suppose it was meant to be? _Do_ you suppose it is a bear?"
"Or an otter, or something?" asked Mrs. Ferguson. "Oh, I know! It's a squirrel. Did you ever see anything so--so ridiculous!"
The ladies, all except Mrs. Montgomery, laughed gleefully at the funny cat Buddy had hugged and loved.
"We might get a dime for it, anyway, Alice," said one. "Are there any more? They will help fill the toy table. Do you think they would spoil the toy table, Mrs. Montgomery?"
The New Yorker had taken the cat in her hand, and Mrs. Vandyne was standing one after another of Peter's toys on the table.
"Spoil it!" exclaimed Mrs. Montgomery enthusiastically. "I have not seen anything so naïve since I was in Russia. It is like the Russian peasant toys, but different, too. It has a character of its own. Oh, how charming!"
She had seized another of the funny animals.
"Mercy! I don't know what it _is_," laughed Mrs. Montgomery. "What does that matter? You can call it a cat--it looks something like a cat--yes! I'm sure it is a cat. Or a squirrel. That doesn't matter. Can't you see that no one but a master impressionist could have done them? Just see how he has done it all with a dozen quick turns of his--his--"
"Jack-knife," Mrs. Vandyne supplied. "_Do_ you think they are worth anything, Alice?"
"Worth anything?" exclaimed Mrs. Montgomery. "My dear, they are worth anything you want to ask for them. Really, they are little masterpieces. Can't you see how refreshing they are, after all the painted and prim toys we see in the shops? Just look at this funny frog, or whatever it is."