Page:St. Nicholas (serial) (IA stnicholasserial321dodg).pdf/463
days nearly two months previous, Pinkey’s sole desire in life had been to receive an air-gun outfit for Christmas. Day after day he had come in and fondled the precious rifle and hoped it might fall to his lot; but his hopes had not been realized, and he had been heartbroken for weeks afterward. So she decided that would be about the most acceptable gift she could bestow.
Taking from the shelf the bright-colored box containing the entire outfit—gun, target, arrows, and all,—she turned to Pinkey, saying: “Pinkey, here is the air-gun you wanted so badly last Christmas. I want you to accept it from me as a remembrance for returning the pen.’
When Pinkey heard this he was between two fires. His former desire for the air-gun, which could now be his, returned with all its old-time fervor, and yet his more recent longing for the valentine was unabated. A dozen times, during the five minutes he had been in the store, his eyes had wandered irresistibly to the show-case where it still lay unpurchased.
Twice, while Mrs, Betts was wrapping the box in heavy paper for him to carry home, he attempted to ask that the valentine be substituted for the air-gun, and twice the words refused to come. As she placed the box in Pinkey’s arms, he gave one hopeless look at the valentine, muttered some unintelligible thanks, and started for the door.
But love for his Affinity finally prevailed, and, turning resolutely about, he marched back to the counter and laid the box down, saying: “Mrs. Betts, if you ’ll let me, I ’d like to trade this air-gun for that big valentine over there. It don’t cost near as much as this, but I ’d lots rather have it,”
To say that Mrs. Betts was surprised would be putting it mildly; but since Pinkey was the one to be satisfied, she was perfectly willing that he should choose what suited him best, especially as the valentine, from her point of view, was much the less valuable article.
When the exchange was effected, Pinkey was surprised to find how happy he felt, and he ran all the way home to show the valentine to his mother. He was bursting with exuberance and must unburden himself to some one, so he naturally chose her. He told her how he had longed for the valentine, but hated to ask her for the money to buy it, fearing she would think him foolish to want to send such an expensive one. He told her all about the fountain-pen
Pinkey gets the Valentine.
He was too happy to detect a misty look in his mother’s eyes as he concluded his story by asking her to address the valentine for him—“because,” he bashfully admitted, “she ’d know my writin’.”
Pinkey could scarcely eat his dinner, so anxious was he to get back to school and deposit his valentine in the box before anybody saw him. It was such a large affair that, if it were once seen, it would attract immediate attention and be recognized later.
As his Affinity entered the room, just before the study-hours began, Pinkey thought he noted a serious expression on her face. He had not remained to see whether she received a valentine at noon, and down deep in his heart he hoped she had not, and that this might be the cause of her despondency.
Throughout the long afternoon she seemed