"There'll never be such times again," Joe would declare solemnly.
Florence would breath a little sigh, and wonder if she could ever attain to beaux and merriment, and if any one would ever quarrel about dancing with her. How happy Granny must have been!
Dot had a dreadful cold, and Granny an attack of rheumatism; but they both recovered before Christmas. Every one counted so much on this holiday. All were making mysterious preparations. Joe and Hal and Florence had their heads together; and then it was Granny and Florence, or Granny and Hal.
"I don't dare to stir out," said Joe lugubriously, "lest you may say something that I shall not hear."
Hal killed three fine young geese. Two were disposed of for a dollar apiece, and the third he brought to the kitchen in triumph.
"There's our Christmas dinner, and a beauty too!" he announced.
Hal had sold turkeys and chickens enough to buy himself a good warm winter coat.
Granny had a little extra luck. In fact, it was rather a prosperous winter with them; and there was nothing like starvation, in spite of Mrs. Van Wyck's prediction.
They all coaxed Granny to make doughnuts. Joe dropped them in the kettle, and Hal took them out with the skimmer. How good they did smell!
Kit and Charlie tumbled about on the floor, and were under everybody's feet; while Dot sat in her high chair, looking wondrous wise.
"How'll we get the stockings filled?" propounded Joe, when the supper-table had been cleared away.
They all glanced at each other in consternation.
"But where'll you hang 'em?" asked Kit after a moment or two of profound study.
"Some on the andirons, some on the door-knob, some on the kettle-spout, and the rest up chimney."
"I say, can't we have two?" was Charlie's anxious question.
"Lucky if you get one full. What a host of youngsters! O Granny! did you know that last summer I discovered that you were the old woman who lived in a shoe?"
"O Joe! don't;" and Hal raised his soft eyes reproachfully.
Granny laughed, not understanding Hal's anxiety.
"Because I had so many children?"
"Exactly; but I think you are better tempered than your namesake."
Granny's eyes twinkled at this compliment.
"It was an awful hot day, and Dot was cross enough to kill a cat with nine lives."
"But she's a little darling now," said Hal, kissing her. "I think the sand-man has been around;" and he smiled into the little face with its soft drooping eyes.
"Yes, she ought to be in bed, and Kit and Charlie. Come, children."
"I want to see what's going to be put in my stocking," whined Charlie in a very sleepy tone.
"No, you can't. March off, you small snipes, or you will find a whip there to-morrow morning."
That was Joe's peremptory order.
They had a doughnut apiece, and then went reluctantly. Charlie was very sure that she was wider awake than ever before in her life, and could not get asleep if she tried all night. Kit didn't believe that morning would ever come. Hal put on Dot's nightgown, and heard her say, "Now I lay me down to sleep;" while Joe picked up the cat, and irreverently whispered,—
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
All curled up in a little heap.
If I should wake before 'tis day,
What do you s'pose the doctor'd say?"
"O Joe!" remonstrated Granny.
"That's Tabby's prayers. Tabby is a high principled, moral, and intellectual cat. Now go to sleep, and dream of a mouse."
Tabby winked her eyes solemnly, as if she understood every word; and it's my firm belief that she did.
Then Granny, Florence, Joe, and Hal sat in profound thought until the old high clock in the corner struck nine.
"Well," said Joe, "what are we waiting for?"
Hal laughed and answered,—
"For some one to go to bed."
"What is to be done about it?"
Florence looked wise, and said presently,—
"We'll all have to go in the other room except the one who is to put something in the stockings."
"That's it. Who will begin?"
"Not I," rejoined Joe. "I don't want to be poked down into the toe."
"And I can't have my gifts crushed," declared Florence.
"Hal, you begin."
Hal was very cheerful and obliging. Granny lighted another candle, and the three retired. He disposed of his gifts, and then called Joe.
Joe made a great scrambling around. One would think he had Santa Claus himself, and was squeezing him into the small stocking, sleigh, ponies, and all.
"Now, Granny, it's your turn."
Granny fumbled about a long while, until the children grew impatient. Afterward Florence found herself sorely straitened for room; but she had a bright brain, and what she could not put inside she did up in papers and pinned to the outside, giving the stockings a rather grotesque appearance, it must be confessed. There they hung in a row, swelled to dropsical proportions, and looking not unlike stumpy little Dutchmen who had been beheaded at the knees.
"Now, Granny, you must go to bed," said Joe with an air of importance. "And you must promise to lie there until you are called to-morrow morning,—honor bright!"
Granny smiled, and bobbed her flaxen curls.
"Now," exclaimed Florence, bolting the middle door so they would be sure of no interruption.
Joe went out to the wood-shed, and dragged in a huge shoe. The toe was painted red, and around the top a strip of bright yellow, ending with an immense buckle cut out of wood.
"Oh, isn't it splendid!" exclaimed Florence, holding her breath.
"That was Hal's idea, and it's too funny for any thing. Granny could crawl into it head first. If we haven't worked and conjured to keep Kit and Charlie out of the secret, then no one ever had a bit of trouble in this world."
Joe laughed until he held his sides. It was a sort of safety escape-valve with him.
"H-u-s-h!" whispered Hal. "Now, Flossy."
Florence brought a large bundle out of the closet. There were some suppressed titters, and "O's," and "Isn't it jolly?"
"Now you must tie your garters round the bedpost, put the toe of your shoes toward the door, and go to bed backward. That'll make every thing come out just right," declared Joe.
"Oh, dear! I wish it was morning!" said Hal. "I want to see the fun."
"So don't this child. I must put in some tall snoring between this and daylight."
They said good-night softly to each other, and went off to bed. Joe was so full of mischief, that he kept digging his elbows into Hal's ribs, and rolling himself in the bedclothes, until it was a relief to have him commence the promised snoring.
With the first gray streak of dawn there was a stir.