Christmas Eve ended the rush of business for Hamilton and Company. The
following week, the last of Mary's vacation, was certain to be dull
enough. "Nothin' to do but change presents for folks," prophesied
Captain Shad. "Give them somethin' they want and take back somethin'
we don't want. That kind of trade is like shovelin' fog up hill, more
exercise than profit."

Christmas was a happy day at the white house by the shore, a day of
surprises. To begin with, there were the presents which were beside the
plates at breakfast. Mary had brought gifts for all, Captain Shadrach,
Zoeth, and Isaiah. There was nothing expensive, of course, but each had
been chosen to fit the taste and liking of the recipient and there was
no doubt that each choice was a success. Isaiah proudly displayed a
jacknife which was a small toolchest, having four blades, a corkscrew,
a screwdriver, a chisel, a button-hook and goodness knows what else
besides.

"Look at that!" crowed Isaiah, exhibiting the knife, bristling like a
porcupine, on his open palm. "Look at it! By time, there ain't nothin' I
can't do with that knife! Every time I look at it I find somethin'
new. Now, I wonder what that is," pointing to a particularly large and
ferocious-looking implement which projected from the steel tangle. "I
cal'late I've sized up about everything else, but I can't seem to make
out what that's for. What do you cal'late 'tis, Cap'n Shad?"

Shadrach looked.

"Why, that's simple," he said, gravely. "That's a crust crowbar."

"A what?"