"That's a dandy mitt there," said the other, pointing to a baseball outfit. "I wouldn't be afraid to stop any kind of a ball with that on."

"Wish my dad would get me a new sled like that flyer," sighed Toad. "I finished mine last winter when I ran into that tree with you and Herbie on board."

"You surely did," was the laughing answer. "I remember how we all went flying head first into a snow drift."

"There's a nice pocket knife," was Toad's next remark. "I mean the one with the pearl handle, just next to that doll with the pink dress on."

"Oh!" exclaimed Reddy, "here's what[12] just suits me," catching sight, for the first time, of a punching bag.

"How do you work it?"

"Why, you see there's an elastic rope on each end of it, and one of them you tie to a ring in the floor and the other to something overhead. Then when you give it a punch it comes back to you with a bang."

"Well, I'd rather have a football; then maybe we could get up a regular team," remarked Toad.

"I'll bet all those reals would cost about ten dollars," ventured the other, pointing to a box of marbles toward the front of the window. "If I was rich I'd buy them."

"What for? You have plenty. You[13] won nearly all mine away from me. Look!" he added in a low voice, "there goes Herbie's mother into the store. Let's see what she buys."

"Hello, Daddy," greeted both the boys, as old Mr. Williams, with his white hair, red cheeks and dancing blue eyes, came to the doorway of the shop and smiled at them.

"Merry Christm