successful inventions, with tool-boxes whose tools were missing, with
oil cans without oil, with boards full of nails, with the wheels of
broken carts, and with strings, ropes and clothes lines of various
lengths; yet to a new-comer it was always an El Dorado of enjoyment.
Into this now sprang, tumbled, the cronies, Dick, Jack, Phil and Shel,
which latter name was a contraction for General Sheridan.

"I say," exclaimed Phil, "I am getting tired of your shed; haven't had
an idea in it for months--same old contrivances--get up something new."

"You just wait," said Pete, the proprietor.

"O come along, boys, if it is 'wait,' don't let us wait here," said
Shel, and off they started on a raid for fun. Pete returned from the
excursion to dream all night of what might and of what might not be. His
wishes became so thoroughly mixed that he fancied he had told his mother
he wanted nothing, not even Christmas itself; but the horror of such a
mistake effectually roused him.

The next morning there was no indication of forthcoming glories, except
that they had less than usual for breakfast; a kind of atonement to
which Mrs. Downs sometimes treated her family. Pete sighed. The
greetings for a merry Christmas were of doubtful value to him. He was of
a foreboding nature and experience had taught him to be prepared for
disappointment in the matter of presents. He went to church and noticed
carefully the style of type in the hymn books; he came home and took
down all his books from their shelves for the same purpose of
investigation. Even dinner itself failed to bring forgetfulness; for he
thought, if he could print bills-of-fare for such lengthy repasts he
might make money; though he felt he could never spell the queer French
names of dishes. At last the meal was ended, and the big parlor doors
were thrown open, displaying horizontal rows of evergreen, with various
knick-knacks fastened to these mysterious lines, which on inspection
proved to be the bars of an old-fashioned clotheshorse. It made one
think of sums in addition put down in agreeable shapes; one green line
of gifts and then another and another, which suddenly changed into a sum
in long division. Brown-looking packages lay about the feet of the
clotheshorse, and on them Pete fastened his eyes, for printing presses
cannot hang.

His name was called several times and he received the very things he did
not want; sleeve buttons, scarfpins, cologne, and paper. He says, "tha