arty of school children.

All this was hardly polite, it is true; but people are sometimes
surprised out of their good manners on Christmas evenings, and must be
forgiven for it, as such a good time happens but once a year.

Percy broke in with an old song, and went through with a whole stanza of
it, although no one listened to a word:--

"Good luck unto old Christmas,
And long life let us sing,
For he doeth more good unto the poor
Than many a crowned king."

"My beautiful books!" cried aunt Madge; "Russia morocco."

"My writing-desk,--has any one looked at it?" said Mrs. Parlin;
"rose-wood, inlaid with brass."

"My skates!" broke in Susy, at the top of her voice.

"Hush!" screamed cousin Percy; "won't anybody please notice my drum? If
you won't look, then look out for a drum in each ear!"

And as nobody would look or pay the slightest attention, they all had to
hear "Dixie" pounded out in true martial style, till they held on to
their ears.

"Rattlety bang!" went the drum. "Tweet, tweet," whistled the little
musical instruments which the children were blowing.

"Have pity on us!" cried aunt Madge; "I am bewildered; my head is
floating like a Chinese garden."

"Order!" shouted Mr. Parlin, laughing.

"O, yes, sir," said Percy, seizing Susy and whirling her round.
"Children, why don't you try to preserve order? My nerves are strung up
like violin-strings! I've got a pound of headache to every ounce of
brains. Susy Parlin, do try to keep still!"

"Thee needn't pretend it is all Susan," said grandma Read, smiling.
"Thee and little Prudence are the noisiest of the whole!"

In fact, they raised such a din, that after a while poor grandma Read
smoothed the Quaker cap over her smiling face, and stole off into her
own chamber, where she could "settle down into quietness." Much noise
always confused grandma Read.

But in a very few moments, when the excitement began to die out, there
was a season of overwhelming gratitude. Everybody had to thank everybody
else; and Mr. Parlin, who had a beautiful dressing-gown to be grateful
for, nevertheless found time to tell Susy, over and over again, how
delighted he was with her book-mark, made, by her own fingers, of three
wide strips of velvet ribbon; on the ends of which were fastened a
cross, a star, and an anchor, of card-board.

"Papa, one ribbon is to keep your place in the Old Testament," said
Susy; "one is to stay in the middle, at the births