“Why didn’t you speak to me?” cried Susy, springing out of bed, “when you knew how I couldn’t wait to see my present?”

“I would have woke you up, Susy, but I ain’t well; I’m sick in my knees.”

And Prudy limped about the room to show her sister how lame she was.  But Susy was in too great a hurry to pay much attention to her, or to help her dress.

“Good morning, papa!” she exclaimed, the moment she entered the parlor; “now may I see the present?”

“Do you suppose you could wait till after breakfast, Susy?”

Aunt Madge smiled as she looked at the little eager face.

“I see you are going on with your lessons,” said she.

“What lessons, auntie?  Why, it is the holidays!”

“Lessons in patience, my dear.  Isn’t something always happening which you have to be patient about?”

Susy thought of Prudy’s habit of disclosing secrets, Dotty’s trying way of destroying playthings; and now this long delay about her present.  She began to think there were a great many vexations in the world, and that she bore them remarkably well for such a little girl.

“Yes, thee must let patience have her perfect work, Susan,” said grandma Read, after the “silent blessing” had been asked at the table.

“Mayn’t I go, too?” said Prudy, when she saw her father, her auntie, and Susy leaving the house just after breakfast.

And she went, as a matter of course; but the pavements were a little slippery from sleet; and Prudy, who was never a famous walker, had as much as she could do, even with the help of her father’s hand, to keep from falling.

“Why, Prudy,” said Mr. Parlin, “what ails you this morning?  You limp so much that I believe you need crutches.”

“I’m sick in my knee,” replied Prudy, delighted to see that her lameness was observed.  “If you had my knee, and it hurt, you’d know how it feels!”

By this time they had reached a livery stable; and, to Susy’s surprise, her father stopped short, and said to a man who stood by the door, “Mr. Hill, my daughter has come to look at her pony.”

Prudy was in a great fright at sight of so many horses, and needed all her auntie’s attention; but Susy had no fear, and Mr. Parlin led her along to a stall where stood a beautiful black pony, as gentle-looking as a Newfoundland dog.

“How do you like him, Susy?  Stroke his face, and talk to him.”

“But, O, papa, you don’t mean, you can’t mean, he’s my very own!  A whole pony all to myself!”

“See what you think of his saddle, miss,” said Mr. Hill, laughing at Susy’s eagerness; and he led pony out, and threw over his back a handsome side-saddle.

“Why, it seems as if I could just jump on without anybody touching me,” cried Susy.

“Not afraid a bit?” said Mr. Hill, as Mr. Parlin seated Susy in the saddle, and gave her the reins.  “Ponies throw people, sometimes.”