"It's hardly light enough for you to see," whispered Ellen, as the two little barefooted white figures glided out of the room.
"Oh, yes, it is that's all the fun. Hush! don't make a bit of noise I know where it hangs Mamma always puts it at the back of her big easy-chair; come this way here it is! Oh, Ellen! there's two of 'em! There's one for you! there's one for you!"
In a tumult of delight, one Ellen capered about the floor on the tips of her bare toes, while the other, not less happy, stood still for pleasure. The dancer finished by hugging and kissing her with all her heart, declaring she was so glad, she didn't know what to do.
"But how shall we know which is which?"
"Perhaps they are both alike," said Ellen.
"No at any rate, one's for me, and t'other's for you. Stop! here are pieces of paper, with our names, on I guess let's turn the chair a little bit to the light there yes! Ellen M-o-n there, that's yours; my name doesn't begin with an M; and this is mine!"
Another caper round the room, and then she brought up in front of the chair, where Ellen was still standing.
"I wonder what's in 'em," she said; "I want to look, and I don't want, too. Come, you begin."
"But that's no stocking of mine," said Ellen, a smile gradually breaking upon her sober little face; "my leg never was as big as that."
"Stuffed, isn't it?" said Ellen Chauncey. "Oh, do make haste, and see what is in yours. I want to know so, I don't know what to do."