'Oh, that's all right,' she said; 'I will make something for you that will do. Santa Claus is an old dear, and will pretend to think that they are all real stockings. Bear, bring some woolly stuff from that store of yours, if you please!'
And then they all sat in a ring, contriving queer bag-shaped things and fitting them on—all except the Rabbit. He sauntered round for a while among the creatures picking up a bit of stuff here and another bit there, and then he disappeared behind a tree.
By-and-bye all the other animals were proudly marching around, each with one leg in a stocking, but it was some time before the Rabbit strolled up from behind his tree with his stocking wrapped round him like a plaid.
'Let us see it,' said Baby Jane.
With a slight blush and some hesitation the Rabbit laid it on the sand—it was big enough for a hippopotamus.
'Nonsense,' said Baby Jane severely; 'you can't wear that.'
'Oh,' said the Rabbit, 'you don't know how my toes swell when I've got chilblains!'
'You shouldn't try to cheat Santa Claus,' replied Baby Jane, and the Rabbit had to cut his stocking down.
It was now some time since tea, and growing dark. It was not an English Christmas Eve, with holly and snow, and darkness lit and warmed by cosy flickering fires, but it seemed to Baby Jane that at that time all over the world as the darkness deepens there spreads everywhere one same feeling of coming happiness growing and growing until, as the dawn breaks, a great loving kiss falls upon the poor world to comfort and bless it, so that it awakes with its heart full of warmth and joy on Christmas morning.
'Now, before we hang up our stockings and go to sleep,' said Baby Jane, 'we have got to go out and sing carols, and the people we sing to will give us hot things to drink, and cake.'