“He certainly was fussing about something in the fireplace,” said Nancy. Suddenly she made a pounce. She pointed. She shook and bent with stifled laughter. The others looked. They saw poor Tommy’s blue stocking, symbolic of childish faith, hanging in the fireplace. Nancy laughed, and Sarah laughed, but cautiously. Reuben stared.
“What’s the stockin’ doin’ there?” he inquired, with no lowering of his deep voice.
Tommy up-stairs heard him, and trembled. Then he heard no more, for his aunts hushed his uncle peremptorily. They pulled him out into the kitchen.
“What in creation—?” began Reuben.
“Reuben, do hush up. He’ll hear you,” gasped Nancy. “It’s—it’s——”
“It’s what? What did he come down like that for, and hang his stockin’ there? Is he crazy?”
“It’s Christmas to-morrow,” replied Nancy, choking with laughter.
“And he was out in the yard with Cora this afternoon, and she must have told him she was going to hang her stocking, and put him up to it,” said Sarah between giggles.
“Grace went to Boston this morning,” said Nancy. “I know she went to buy presents for Cora. They’re just spoiling that child.”
Reuben scowled. “If,” said he, “Grace wants to fill her child’s head with such nonsense, I do wish she would tell her not to talk to Tommy. Hangin’ his stockin’ in the chimney!”