"That would be splendid. My! I most
know 'twould fetch that. Christmas makes
flowers so dear."
T wouldn't sell it for 500," said Jim
magnificently, and approaching his moth
er to enforce his decision by a resound
ing clap of one brown hand upon another,
"so there ain't no use talkin."
"You act like a goose," declared Mrs.
Mulligan, out of all patience, "talkin as if
you was worth a million an struttin up
an down as If your boots was whole, for all
the world. Get out, do!" j
So Jim got out, but flattened his nost '
against the outside of the pane, where ht
stared at his possession to his heart's con
tent. It was the day before Christmas. Hav
ing no presents to purchase and nothing
on his mind Jim could go down Broadway
and the side streets in a beatific state,
which he did bright and early and all daj
long and into the evening. Hands in hi
pockets he strolled on, whistling to keep
warm, reveling in the brilliancy of tbt
shops and the happiness of the streams oi
purchasers. He spent millions in these
hours, taking in imagination the place oi
the pretty girl getting out of her carriage,
armed with papa's new bank notes for the
Christmas shopping, or the well condi
tioned merchant doing his purchasing bj
himself, or the mother on whose indul
gent heart hung a flock of expectant little
ones. And he did the work well too.
