Ethel Turner

“ Ettie paused, almost for the first time, in her steady work, while she dilated on the utter beauty and extreme usefulness of a shaving-ball.
"You make it with tissue-paper," she said; "all lovely colours. I have decided on pink, pale green, and scarlet, and it will be tied up with string and hang over the washstand."
"But what's it for?" demanded practical Frank.
"To wipe his razor on, of course, silly," said Ettie in a superior fashion. "It must be very miserable for him having to get any common bit of paper for it every day. ”

“ But Ettie was merciless.
"He only laughs to please us," she said sententiously; "grown-up people never really like bon-bons. You're just trying to get something you like yourself, you greedy boy."
Stan protested angrily. He had never even thought of getting a cocoanut, or a balloon, or a pistol, he said indignantly; and those were the things he wanted himself. He was only trying to think of things his father really needed.
Then Frank had another restless fit, occasioned by the sight of energy going to waste. ”

“ Stan inclined to a "football goal." He was sure his father would enjoy it very much, and it could be easily erected in the paddock.
"But you would enjoy it, too," said Ettie, who was ever a martinet. "You oughtn't to get things you want yourself for other people's birthdays."
Frank did not uphold this view of the question; he thought the notion a very good one—for what was the use of the football till they got one? But he added gloomily that he did not think sixpence would cover the cost.
"They're only made of wood," said little Stan. But then his face fell; the notion must be abandoned. ”

“ The children moved slowly away to their own little nook in the garden, and were joined by Alfie—Alfie, who also liked the jingle his pennies made in his tin box, but who had no keener appreciation of actual money values than usually obtains between the years of two and three.
"It's enough for a girl," said Frank disconsolately, turning over the halfpenny that was his entire fortune at present; "but a fellow can't be expected to make a penny a week do for everything." ”

“ It is twopence halfpenny now."
One could not burst into tears before a salesman. Ettie swallowed hard, pushed the parcel back to him, and rushed from the shop. But she cried her very heart out all the way up the hill, and Stan gulped as if the disappointment were his very own. They rushed to their mother with the heartrending tale, and Frank hastened in after them, more than half expecting to hear that they had lost their sixpences. ”

“ Enough for a girl! And Ettie had a family of thirteen dolls entirely dependent upon her for their frocks and bonnets and boots and opera cloaks! Even if one's mother and aunts and friends did supply materials at frequent intervals, there were still sash ribbons and other harassing toilet requisites for such a family that could only be obtained with hard cash. And Frank never took it into his consideration that Eugenie Isabella, the French doll, wore pink kid boots that cost the frightful sum of sixpence a pair—six whole weeks' money! ”

“ Think how lovely it will be for him to dry it on a pink bit one day, and a scarlet another, and green another! Or I might put purple instead of pink. Down at Green's they've got the loveliest tissue, and it's only twopence a sheet."
"Don't believe he'll like it a bit," said Stan vindictively; "you just want to make it, that's all."
"A hammer-handle 'ud be a lot usefuller," said Frank; "men don't want finnicky tissue-paper things. He'll like my cigars much betterer." Ettie jeered at him and bade him look at his dandelions. ”

“ Stan was still harping on his certainty that it would make his father feel "ver' happy" to open a parcel and find bon-bons within. And Ettie was still casting doubts upon the purity of his motives.
"What are you going to get?" Frank asked her. "Mother says a new hammer-handle would please him, 'cause his is split. How'd it be if you gave that? You can't give tobacco or cigars, 'cause I've picked that—it's always the best present to give a man—Jim Smith says so, an' that's what he always gives his father." ”

“ Suppose he flung himself upon his father's mercy—simply put it, as between man and man, that he needed sixpence more than he ever needed it in his life before, though he could not reveal the nature of his necessity. ”

“ Sixpence was the lowest sum deemed worthy by any of them for the purchase of a parental present.
For a brother or sister indulging in a birthday, twopence, or even a penny—the savings of one week only—was considered a sufficient individual outlay, especially if maternal ingenuity could be obtained to improve the investment. ”

“ The dolls' house had also to be kept up, and the most ignorant householder knows the amount of money new furniture costs. The kitchen was very inadequately supplied, and grandmamma had a most disturbing axiom that "a lady is known by her kitchen."
There was a dresser, to be sure, but then the salt-box reached up nearly as high as the top of it, and the sense of proportion that was dawning with Ettie's seventh year told her that these things ought not to be so. ”

“ You could not wrap a football goal up in layers of tissue and brown paper and tie it with string and let it lie palpitating on the breakfast-table. And how else could a parental gift be properly presented?
He prodded away sadly and solemnly with his knife for several minutes. Then his face beamed again.
"Tell you! " he said. "Bon-bons! He laughs like anyfring when he pulls them, and he does 'joy having a paper cap on." ”

“ And expense meant sixpence and nothing less.
"Well," said Frank, his hopes dashed as to realising on a marble—and more especially a marble that was lost in the grass and, after all, might be Stan's property, "I'll just have to earn some money. Tell you," his eyes grew brilliant, "I'll clean all the windows outside with the hose." He began to drag off his shoes. "I won't get a bit wet. Six windows—I'll do them for a penny a window. Undo my coat."
"Oh, oh!" said Stan forlornly, "I was just going to pick that. Frank grabs everyfrink. I want to do frings with my coat off." ”

“ The longest-living author of this work died in 1958, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 64 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. ”