For a long time Teddy had wanted a cart, and when his seventh birthday
came, there by the back door stood the "Eastern Mail" with a birthday
letter from grandpa on the seat:

"Dear Teddy," it said, "I know you've wanted a cart for a long time so I
hope you will like my birthday present. Have a good time with it, and
give somebody else a good time with it, too."

"Your loving,
"Grandpa."


Teddy played nearly all day with his new present, and for a week he
cared for very little else. One day he raced up the walk, dragging his
cart behind him, and dropped down on the piazza steps near where mother
was sitting.

"That's a dandy cart, mother," he exclaimed. "Jack Hoyt says it's the
best one on the street. It's awfully strong, and it can go just as fast
as anything. I tell you grandpa got a great bargain when he got the
Eastern Mail."

[Illustration: Teddy played nearly every day with his cart.]

"Then you're doing just what grandpa wrote you to do with the cart?"
mother asked.

"What's that? Have a good time with it?" Teddy answered. "I guess I am.
I just wish grandpa could see how many miles that cart goes a day."