lar thing, though the
sleighs were flying about in their tireless fashion, making the air
musical with bells. And Christmas was coming.

It really _was_ Christmas then. Not to have hung up your stocking would
have been an insult to the sweetest, merriest, wisest, tenderest little
man in the world. There were some fireplaces left for him to come down,
and he was on hand promptly.

And such appetizing smells as lurked in every corner of the house! Fruit
cake, crullers and doughnuts, and mince pies! Everybody was busy from
morning till night. When Hanny went to the kitchen some one said, "Run
up-stairs, child, you'll be in the way here," and Margaret would hustle
something in her apron and say, "Run down-stairs, Hanny dear," until it
seemed as if there was no place for her.

The Dean children were busy, too. But Nora Whitney didn't seem to have
anything to do but nurse dear Old Gray and read fairy stories. Delia
told them Ophelia was to be married Christmas morning, and "they were
going over to _his_ folks in Jersey to spend a week."

"But it won't make a bit of difference," Delia announced. "Frank has a
steady beau now and they'll take the parlor. And then, I suppose, it'll
be my turn. I shall just hate to be grown up and have long skirts on and
do up my hair, and be so fussy about everything. When I think of that I
wish I was a boy."

The little girl wondered if Margaret would get married next Christmas.
Her gowns were quite long now, and she did have a grown-up air. It
seemed years since last Christmas. So many things had happened.

The cousins were to come down from Tarrytown and make a visit, and Aunt
Patience and Aunt Nancy were to come up from Henry Street for the
Christmas dinner. If they only _could_ bring the cat!

"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" some one shouted while it was still
dark. Hanny woke out of a sound sleep. "Merry Christmas," said Margaret
with a kiss.

"Oh dear, I shan't get ahead of anybody," she sighed. "Do you think I
could get up, Peggy?"

"I must light a candle," Margaret said.

"Come down and see what's in your stocking, Han!" shouted Jim.

Margaret sprang out of bed and put on the little girl's warm woollen
wrapper and let her go down. She ran eagerly to her mother's room, and
her father made believe asleep that she might wake him up. She wanted
to wish some one Merry Christmas the first of all.

Two wax candles were burning in the back room and the fire was
crackling. Ther