lustre of the shining hair! "That's awful pretty," commented Mrs. Comstock's soul, but her stiff lips had said all that could be forced from them for once. Just then Wesley Sinton came to the door.
"Good morning," he cried heartily. "Elnora, you look a picture! My, but you're sweet! If any of them city boys get sassy you tell your Uncle Wesley, and he'll horsewhip them. Here's your Christmas present from me." He handed Elnora the leather lunch box, with her name carved across the strap in artistic lettering.
"Oh, Uncle Wesley!" and that was all Elnora could say.
"Your Aunt Maggie filled it for me for a starter," he said. "Now, if you are ready, I'm going to drive past your way and you can ride almost to Onabasha with me, and save the new shoes that much."
Elnora was staring at the box. "Oh, I hope it isn't impolite to open it before you," she said. "I just feel as if I must see inside."
"Don't you stand on no formality with the neighbors," laughed Sinton. "Look at your box if you want to!"
Elnora slipped the strap and turned back the lid.
This disclosed the knife, fork, napkin, and spoon, the milk flask, and the interior packed with dainty sandwiches wrapped in tissue paper, and the little compartments for meat, salad, and the custard cup.
"Oh, mother!" cried Elnora. "Oh, mother. Isn't it fine? What made you think of It, Uncle Wesley? How will I ever thank you? No one will have a finer lunch
