“Now,” said Ben, when they had all made a pretence of eating supper, for there was such an excitement prevailing that no one sat still long enough to eat much, “you must every one fly off to bed as quick as ever can be.”
“Will Santa Claus come faster then?” asked Joel.
“Yes,” said Ben, “just twice as fast.”
“I'm going, then,” said Joel; “but I ain't going to sleep, 'cause I mean to hear him come over the roof; then I'm going to get up, for I do so want a squint at the reindeer!”
“I am, too,” cried Davie, excitedly. “Oh, do come, Joe!” and he began to mount the stairs.
“Good night,” said Phronsie, going up to the centre of the chimney-piece, where the little red stocking dangled limpsily, “lift me up, Polly, do.”
“What you want to do?” asked Polly, running and giving her a jump. “What you goin' to do, Phronsie?”
“I want to kiss it good night,” said the child, with eyes big with anticipation and happiness, hugging the well worn toe of the little old stocking affectionately. “I wish I had something to give Santa, Polly, I do!” she cried, as she held her fast in her arms.
“Never mind, Pet,” said Polly, nearly smothering her with kisses; “if you're a good girl, Phronsie, that pleases Santa the most of anything.”
“Does it?” cried Phronsie, delighted beyond measure, as Polly carried her into the bedroom, “then I'll be good always, I will!”