o
Nan's father and mother if they wished.

Well, it was short notice, but by telegraphing, telephoning and telling
by mouth they arranged it; and the next morning quite an imposing party
boarded the Eastbound Limited, and took possession of the drawing-room
car, for Bobby's grandfather never did things on a niggardly plan.

He and Bobby's mother were seated on one side, and Nan's mother (her
father could not leave) and Mrs. Rayburn were across from them, while
Nan, Ethelwyn, Beth, and Bobby appeared and disappeared, like meteors,
in the most unexpected places. Joe's sister was not well enough that day
to accompany them, so it was arranged that her brother should bring her
as soon as she felt better.

If I have, by the use of the word "grandfather," given you an idea of
decrepitude and old age, in the case of Bobby's grandfather, I wish at
once to change that idea.

He was a very erect and handsome man, with a white mustache indeed, but
with a firm mouth underneath that gave no sign of diminished force.

He had always told Mrs. Rayburn that he thought it was very foolish for
her to give such large sums of money for charity.

"It's not right," he now repeated, twirling his mustache. The morning
paper lay across his knees, and, as he spoke, with an air of finality
and disapproval, he picked it up.

"What isn't right, grandfather?" asked Bobby, suddenly appearing on the
back of his chair, and encircling his grandfather's neck with a pair of
sturdy legs.

His grandfather drew him down by one leg into his lap.

"Giving all your money away to people who don't appreciate it," he
explained.

"How do you know they don't?" asked Bobby.

"Because, sir, people don't appreciate what is given to them, as much as
they do what they earn."

Bobby pondered over this.

"I like my Christmas presents better than the money I get for chopping
kindling," he replied at length; "because the Christmas money is more,
for one thing."

"And more certain," put in his mother, laughing; "the kindling money
isn't always earned."

"Are you talking about the Home money?" asked Ethelwyn, looking over the
back of the chair in front of them.

"Yes."

"But we like to give it, and so will you, when you see how nice it is,
and Dick and Aunty Stevens and the best cookies that she can make.
What's the good of keeping money? We can always buy more down at your
bank," she concluded easily.

"You may not always think so, young lady, nor take