Part 52

“Oh, do, mother,” cried Polly, “she's been wanting a new one awfully.”

“And I'm going to knit some mittens for Joel and David,” continued Mrs. Pepper; “cause I can get the yarn cheap now. I saw some down at the store yesterday I could have at half price.”

“I don't believe anybody'll have as good a Christmas as we shall,” cried Polly, pasting on a bit of trimming to the gayest doll's dress; “no, not even Jappy.”

An odd little smile played around Mrs. Pepper's mouth, but she said not a word, and so the fun and the work went on.

The tree was to be set up in the Provision Room; that was finally decided, as Mrs. Pepper showed the children how utterly useless it would be to try having it in the kitchen.

“I'll find the key, children,” she said, “I think I know where 'tis, and then we can keep them out.”

“Well, but it looks so,” said Polly, demurring at the prospect.

“Oh, no, Polly,” said her mother; “at any rate it's clean.”

“Polly,” said Ben, “we can put evergreen around, you know.”

“So we can,” said Polly, brightly; “oh, Ben, you do think of the best things; we couldn't have had them in the kitchen.”

“And don't let's hang the presents on the tree,” continued Ben; “let's have the children hang up their stockings; they want to, awfully--for I heard David tell Joel this morning before we got up--they thought I was asleep, but I wasn't--that he did so wish they could, but, says he, 'Don't tell mammy, 'cause that'll make her feel bad.”

“The little dears!” said Mrs. Pepper, impulsively; “they shall have their stockings, too.”

“And we'll make the tree pretty enough,” said Polly, enthusiastically; “we shan't want the presents to hang on; we've got so many things. And then we'll have hickory nuts to eat; and perhaps mammy'll let us make some molasses candy the day before,” she said, with a sly look at her mother.

“You may,” said Mrs. Pepper, smiling.

“Oh, goody!” they both cried, hugging each other ecstatically.

“And we'll have a frolic in the Provision Room afterwards,” finished Polly; “oh! ooh!”

And so the weeks flew by--one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight! till only the three days remained, and to think the fun that Polly and Ben had had already!

“It's better'n a Christmas,” they told their mother, “to get ready for it!”

“It's too bad you can't hang up your stockings,” said Mrs. Pepper, looking keenly at their flushed faces and bright eyes; “you've never hung 'em up.”

“That isn't any matter, mamsie,” they both said, cheerily; “it's a great deal better to have the children have a nice time--oh, won't it be elegant! p'r'aps we'll have ours next year!”

For two days before, the house was turned upside down for Joel to find the biggest stocking he could; but on Polly telling him it must be his own, he stopped his search, and bringing down his well-worn one, hung it by the corner of the chimney to be ready.

“You put yours up the other side, Dave,” he advised.

“There isn't any nail,” cried David, investigating.

“I'll drive one,” said Joel, so he ran out to the tool-house, as one corner of the wood-shed was called, and brought in the hammer and one or two nails.

“Phronsie's a-goin' in the middle,” he said, with a nail in his mouth.

“Yes, I'm a-goin' to hang up my stockin',” cried the child, hopping from one toe to the other.

“Run get it, Phronsie,” said Joel, “and I'll hang it up for you.

“Why, it's two days before Christmas yet,” said Polly, laughing; “how they'll look hanging there so long.”