“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.