"A maiden once reasoned her thus-- 'I think I shall hire a whole bus:' She rode on the top, and the people did stop And declared that it couldn't be wuss!
"I regret that I do not find a snuff box on the boughs for Herr Lindsay. In its absence I shall beg him to accept the trifling gift of this tin trumpet, that he may be able to blow his own horn when he is far away, and Cherry Street can no longer blow it for him. Is Mr. Lindsay present?"
The gifts were being rapidly distributed, and the jolly Saint's charming speeches could no longer be heard above the happy talk and laughter. Holly Belle hugged a leather music roll and a copy of "Five Little Peppers" to her breast, Ikey Levi played the long roll on a red drum, Pius Coffey made his toilet before the wee-est of pocket mirrors, with the wee-est of pocket combs, and Beatrice held a single long-stemmed American Beauty rose in her hand, when Saint Nicholas rapped loudly for order.
"I find here, on the very topmost bough," he announced, "a blue envelope addressed to Miss Wilhelmina Lee, President of Cherry Street Improvement Club. Open it and read it aloud, Miss Billy."
Miss Billy cut the sealed edge, and a slip of blue paper fluttered to the floor. Then with surprise, delight, excitement and wavering distrust in her tones, she read aloud the following letter:
"MISS WILHELMINA LEE, "_President Improvement Club, "Cherry Street, J---- City_.
"We herewith enclose you our check for one hundred dollars, as agreed by us in our prize offer of August last. The pictures you sent easily won the prize for marked street improvement, although there were many competitors. Wishing you all success in your work,
"We are "Very respectfully, "PETER HANSON & CO., "Florists, New York."
"Is it a joke?" said Miss Billy, looking at Saint Nicholas as if she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
But the good Saint, holding his whiskers in his hand in the excitement of the moment, had stooped to the floor for the bit of blue paper, and was examining it closely in the glow of the tree.
"It's genuine, all right," he answered. "It's Peter Hanson's check for one hundred dollars on the First National Bank of New York."
"It came this afternoon," said Francis smilingly,--"and knowing what it might be, I received it and put it on the tree for you. I took the last snap shot and sent it away while you were ill, Miss Billy."