"But you must all go to bed early, for he would not want you peeping while he trimmed your tree," added Granny.
It was not easy to go to sleep on Christmas Eve. But at last, Baby Squealer stopped squealing; the twins giggled themselves to the Land of Nod; Wink and Wiggle could not keep their heavy eyes open any longer; and the four oldest children went sound asleep, for they had worked hard that day cracking nuts for Mammy's cake and seeding raisins for Aunt Squeaky's Christmas pudding.
When the clock struck eleven, strange to say, it was Buster's eyes which were still wide open. He was usually very sleepy, but to-night he was very curious. He wanted to see Santa trim that tree. So he winked and he blinked under his blankets, keeping real still and pretending to be asleep.
And what do you think? Grand-daddy began to hang pieces of cheese on the tree! Aunt Squeaky tiptoed in with a pile of cute little hemstitched handkerchiefs; Mammy had a handful of gay ribbon bows and neckties; and Granny was hanging up ten pair of scarlet mittens. Uncle Squeaky brought in a red double-runner sled and pushed it under the tree!
"I guess Santa is a joke," chuckled Buster sleepily. "Won't we have fun sliding on that double-runner Uncle has made!"
Quite happy, he closed his eyes and went sound asleep.
He awoke suddenly when the clock struck one. There was a jingle of sleigh bells; the reindeer were racing across the frozen snow; and there, in the bright moonlight, was old Santa trimming their tree!
Buster gazed in wonder while the fat old fellow tied on handkerchiefs, red mittens, cream cheese, ribbon bows and candies. Why, he was even pushing a sled under the tree!
"That is queer," thought Buster drowsily.
Bright and early next morning, ten little mice were dancing about their tree. Sure enough, Buster found it loaded with the very presents he expected.