CHRISTMAS BELLS!
In the middle of the night Polly woke up with a start.
“What in the world!” said she, and she bobbed up her head and looked over at her mother, who was still peacefully sleeping, and was just going to lie down again, when a second noise out in the kitchen made her pause and lean on her elbow to listen. At this moment she thought she heard a faint whisper, and springing out of bed she ran to Phronsie's crib—it was empty! As quick as a flash she sped out into the kitchen. There, in front of the chimney, were two figures. One was Joel, and the other, unmistakably, was Phronsie!
“What are you doing?” gasped Polly, holding on to a chair.
The two little night-gowns turned around at this.
“Why, I thought it was morning,” said Joel, “and I wanted my stocking. Oh!” as he felt the toe, which was generously stuffed, “give it to me, Polly Pepper, and I'll run right back to bed again!”
“Dear me!” said Polly; “and you, too, Phronsie! Why, it's the middle of the night! Did I ever!” and she had to pinch her mouth together tight to keep from bursting out into a loud laugh. “Oh, dear, I shall laugh! don't look so scared, Phronsie, there won't anything hurt you.” For Phronsie who, on hearing Joel fumbling around the precious stockings, had been quite willing to hop out of bed and join him, had now, on Polly's saying the dire words “in the middle of the night,” scuttled over to her protecting side like a frightened rabbit.
“It never'll be morning,” said Joel taking up first one cold toe and then the other; “you might let us have 'em now, Polly.”
“No,” said Polly sobering down; “you can't have yours till Davie wakes up, too. Scamper off to bed, Joey, dear, and forget all about 'em—and it'll be morning before you know it.”