anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like

my girl any less. But if you’ll unwrap that package you may see why you had me

going a while at first.”

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic

scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and

wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of

the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had

worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with

jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were

expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them

without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses

that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim

eyes and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!”

And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!”

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon

her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her

bright and ardent spirit.