“And now，” said Father Christmas， “for your presents. There is a new and better sewing machine for you， Mrs Beaver. I will drop it in your house as I pass.”
“If you please， sir，” said Mrs Beaver， making a curtsey. “It’s locked up.”
“Locks and bolts make no difference to me，” said Father Christmas. “And as for you， Mr Beaver， when you get home you will find your dam finished and mended and all the leaks stopped and a new sluice.gate fitted.”
Mr Beaver was so pleased that he opened his mouth very wide and then found he couldn‘t say anything at all.
“Peter， Adam’s Son，” said Father Christmas. “Here， sir，” said Peter.
“These are your presents，” was the answer， “and they are tools， not toys. The time to use them is perhaps near at hand. Bear them well.” With these words he handed to Peter a shield and a sword. The shield was the colour of silver and across it there ramped a red lion， as bright as a ripe strawberry at the moment when you pick it. The hilt ofthe sword was of gold and it had a sheath and a sword belt and everything it needed， and it was just the right size and weight for Peter to use. Peter was silent and solemn as he received these gifts， for he felt they were a very serious kind of present.
