Patty's Social Season by Carolyn Wells

Christmas morning was as white as the most picturesque imagination / could desire. A heavy snow had fallen in the night and lay, sparkling, / all over the fields and hills, so that now, in the sunshine, the whole / earth seemed powdered with diamonds.

Patty came dancing downstairs, in a dainty little white morning frock.

"Merry Christmas, everybody! " she cried, as she found the group / gathered round the fireplace in the hall. "Did you ever see such a / beautiful day? Not for skating," and she smiled at Hal, "but for / snow-balling or coasting or any old kind of fun with snow."

"All right," cried Roger. "Who's for a snow frolic? We can build a / fort"

"And make a snow-man," put in Daisy, "with a pipe in his mouth and an / old hat on his head. Why do snow-men always have to have those two / things?"

"They don't," said Jim Kenerley. "That's an exploded theory. Let's / make one this morning of a modern type, and let him have anything he / wants except a pipe and a battered stove-pipe hat."

"We'll give him a cigarette and a Derby," said Patty. "Oh, here comes / the mail! Let's have that before we go after our snow-man."

The chauffeur came in from a trip to the post-office, with his hands / and arms full of mail, -- parcels, papers, and letters, -- which he / deposited on a table, and Jim Kenerley sorted them over.

"Heaps of things for everybody," he said. "Belated gifts, magazines, / letters, and post cards. Patty, this big parcel is for you; Daisy, / here are two for you."

"May take letters! Let baby May be postman! " cried the infant / Kenerley.

"Let her, Jim, -- she loves to be postman," and Adele put the baby down / from her arms, and she toddled to her father.

"Great scheme! " said Hal. "Wait a minute, midget; I'll make you a / cap."

With a few folds, a newspaper was transformed into a three-cornered / cap and placed on the baby's head.

"Now you're a postman," said her uncle. "Go and get the letters from / the post-office."

"Letters, p'ease," said the baby, holding out her fat little hands to / her father.

"All right, kiddums; these parcels are too big for you; you're no / parcel-post carrier. But here's a bunch of letters; pass them around / and let every one pick out his own."

Obediently, the baby postman started off, and passing Daisy first, / dumped the whole lot in her lap.

"Wait a minute, Toddles," said Daisy. "I'll pick out mine, then you / take the rest on."

Daisy selected half a dozen or more, and gave the rest of the lot back / to the little one, who went on round the circle, letting each pick out / his own letters.

Patty had about a dozen letters, and cards and greetings of various / sorts. Some she tore open and read aloud, some she read to herself, / and some she kept to open when she might be alone.