ported, after turning the tiny key and taking a peep inside. "That's mine all right. What's Twaddles got?"
Twaddles unwrapped his parcel slowly and importantly. He was sure it was for him, and he rather enjoyed making the others wait.
"Nothing but a book," he said disgustedly. "What kind of a book is it, Bobby?"
"That's for Meg," Bobby informed him. "'Black Beauty.' Aunt Polly knows Meg likes to read and is always fussing with animals. I must have your present, Twaddles."
The four Blossoms were more interested in Twaddles' gift than in their own because it was the only one they had not seen. Bobby carefully untied the string and wound it up in a neat ring; then he slowly took off the paper and folded that; finally he opened the flat box.
Twaddles promptly tried to stand on his head, a habit he had when he was pleased. He never did succeed in standing on his head, but he usually turned a very good somersault. He did now.
