"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.