n't it? Well, if you're not tall enough
by Wednesday morning, you can't have the present I bought for you last
night. Too short, no present--you think it over."

He stooped to kiss his mother, tweaked Sister's perky bow of
hair-ribbon, and with a hasty "Good-bye" for the others at the table,
hurried out into the hall. They heard the front door slam after him.

Spurred by Ralph's mysterious hint, Brother drank his milk, and then
the Morrison family scattered for their usual busy day.

Brother and Sister were left to clear the breakfast table. They always
did this, carrying out the dishes and silver to Molly in the kitchen.
Then they crumbled the cloth neatly. Molly declared she could not do
without them.

"What do you suppose Ralph is going to give you?" speculated Sister,
carefully folding up the napkin Louise had dropped, and slipping it
into the white pique ring embroidered with an "L." "Maybe it's a train?"

"No, I don't believe it's a train," said Brother slowly, crumbling a
bit of bread and beginning to build a little farm with the crumbs. "No,
I guess maybe he will give me a tool-chest."

"Come on, and bring the bread tray," suggested Sister practically. She
never forgot the task in hand for other interests. "Mother says we
mustn't dawdle, Roddy, you know she did. It's my turn to feed the
birds, so I'll crumb the table. Could I use your saw if you get a
tool-chest?"

Brother answered dreamily that he supposed she could. He watched Sister
and her crumb-brush sweep away his nice little bread-crumb fences,
while he planned to build a real fence if Ralph's present should turn
out to be the long-coveted tool-chest.

When Sister had swept up every tiny crumb, she and Brother went out to
scatter the bits of bread to the birds who, winter and summer, never
failed to come to the back door and who always seemed hungry.

This morning there were robins, starlings, a pair of beautiful big blue
jays, and, of course, the rusty little sparrows. Each bird seemed to be
pretending to the others that he was looking for worms, and each one
slyly watched the Morrison back door in hopes that two small figures
would presently come out and toss them a breakfast of breadcrumbs.

Sister flung her crumbs as far as her short arm would send them, and
managed to hit an indignant old starling squarely in the eye. He glared
at her crossly.

"Birds don't mind getting wet, do they?" said Brother, as the sparrows
hopped about in the dri