isn't right--"

"Right? Say, this is the finest present I ever had!" said Langshaw with
glittering eyes and that little crooked smile. "It just beats
everything!"

He rose, scattering his adoring family, and, walking to the window,
threw it open to the frosty December air and called across to a
neighbour standing on the walk.

"Want to come over here, Hendon? Got something to show you. Will you
look at this! Present from my wife and the kids--been saving up for it.
It's a peach, I'll tell you that! I'm going to take George off fishing
this spring--What? Well, come over later, when you've got time to take a
good look at it."

"Do you like it, father?" came from three different voices at once.

"Do I like it? You can just bet I do," said Langshaw emphatically. He
bent and kissed the three upturned faces, and leaned toward his wife
afterward to press her sweet waiting lips with his; but his eyes, as if
drawn by a magnet, were only on the rod--not the mere bundle of sticks
he might have bought, but transformed into one blossoming with love.

"And do you know, we hardly saw a thing of him all day!" Clytie proudly
recounted afterward to her sister. "My dear, he would hardly take time
to eat his dinner or speak to any one; he was out in the back yard with
Henry Wickersham and Mr. Hendon until dark, flapping that rod in
circles--the silliest thing! He nearly sent a hook into George's eye
once. George acted as bewitched as he did. Joe kept telling every single