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Page 3
She tugged the packing-case an inch nearer the fire. It was like Miss Terry
to insist upon that nearer inch. Then she raised the cover. It was a box
full of children's battered toys, old-fashioned and quaint; the toys in
vogue thirty--forty--fifty years earlier, when Miss Terry was a child. She
gave a reminiscent sniff as she threw up the cover and saw on the under
side of it a big label of pasteboard unevenly lettered.
[Illustration: PLAY BOX OF TOM TERRY AND ANGELINA TERRY (scrawl)]
"Humph!" she snorted. There was a great deal in that "humph." It meant:
Yes, Tom's name had plenty of room, while poor little Angelina had to
squeeze in as well as she could. How like Tom! This accounted for
everything, even to his not being in his sister's house this very night.
How unreasonable he had been!
Miss Terry shrugged impatiently. Why think of Tom to-night? Years ago he
had deliberately cut himself adrift from her interests. No need to think of
him now. It was too late to appease her. But here were all these toys to be
got rid of. The fire was hungry for them. Why not begin?
Miss Terry stooped to poke over the contents of the box with lean, long
fingers. In one corner thrust up a doll's arm; in another, an animal's tail
pointed heavenward. She caught glimpses of glitter and tinsel, wheels and
fragments of unidentifiable toys.
"What rubbish!" she said. "Yes, I'll burn them all. They are good for
nothing else. I suppose some folks would try to give them away, and bore a
lot of people to death. They seem to think they are saving something, that
way. Nonsense! I know better. It is all foolishness, this craze for giving.
Most things are better destroyed as soon as you are done with them. Why,
nobody wants such truck as this. Now, could any child ever have cared for
so silly a thing?" She pulled out a faded jumping-jack, and regarded it
scornfully. "Idiotic! Such toys are demoralizing for children--weaken their
minds. It is a shame to think how every one seems bound to spoil children,
especially at Christmas time. Well, no one can say that I have added to the
shameful waste."
Miss Terry tossed the poor jumping-jack on the fire, and eyed his last
contortions with grim satisfaction.
But as she watched, a quaint idea came to her. She was famous for eccentric
ideas.
"I will try an experiment," she said. "I will prove once for all my point
about the 'Christmas spirit.' I will drop some of these old toys out on the
sidewalk and see what happens. It may be interesting."
CHAPTER II
JACK-IN-THE-BOX
Miss Terry rose and crossed two rooms to the front window, looking out upon
the street. A flare of light almost blinded her eyes. Every window opposite
her along the block, as far as she could see, was illuminated with a row of
lighted candles across the sash. The soft, unusual glow threw into relief
the pretty curtains and wreaths of green, and gave glimpses of cosy
interiors and flitting happy figures.
"What a waste of candles!" scolded Miss Terry. "Folks are growing terribly
extravagant."
The street was white with snow which had fallen a few hours earlier, piled
in drifts along the curb of the little-traveled terrace. But the sidewalks
were neatly shoveled and swept clean, as became the eminently respectable
part of the city where Miss Terry lived. A long flight of steps, with iron
railing at the side, led down from the front door, upon which a silver
plate had for generations in decorous flourishes announced the name of
Terry.
Miss Terry returned to the play box and drew out between thumb and finger
the topmost toy. It happened to be a wooden box, with a wire hasp for
fastening the cover. Half unconsciously she pressed the spring, and a
hideous Jack-in-the-box sprang out to confront her with a squeak, a leering
smile, and a red nose. Miss Terry eyed him with disfavor.
"I always did hate that thing," she said. "Tom was continually frightening
me with it, I remember." As if to be rid of unwelcome memories she shut her
mouth tight, even as she shut Jack back into his box, snapping the spring
into place. "This will do to begin with," she thought. She crossed to the
window, which she opened quickly, and tossed out the box, so that it fell
squarely in the middle of the sidewalk. Then closing the window and turning
down the lights in the room behind her, Miss Terry hid in the folds of the
curtain and watched to see what would happen to Jack.
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