He brought in the engine and cars, and then the track, in sections, and soon had it all arranged under the tree, so that it would travel around and around, though he had to move some books and other things to do it. Then he tried the train a little, to see that it would run as well as ever. He hated to leave it all; but he blew out the lamp at last and went to bed, wondering if by any chance he would oversleep next morning, and so fail to light up, and have everything in order when Tom and Nellie and the others were ready to come down.
“Whoop! Merry Christmas!”
Eb sat straight up in bed. He had overslept, then, after all. No; for it was still dark. He did not believe it could be five o’clock.
“Merry Christmas, Eb! Say, get up and light the tree! I want to see my things.”
It was Tommy, of course, and the whole house would be roused and ready to come down presently. Eb leaped into his clothes, made a hasty toilet, and slipped down the back stairs, leaving Tommy still shouting Merry Christmas through the halls to arouse older people from their slumbers.
Within a few minutes everybody had concluded that it was no use to hold out against Tommy, and in five minutes more everybody had dragged on something that resembled clothes and a pleasant smile, and came straggling down the stairs, calling greetings to one another. Tommy, at the head, was already pounding at the sitting-room door, while Eb, inside, was lighting the last tapers, and putting on a few finishing-touches, such as starting and setting a new clock for Aunt Maria, and winding up Tommy’s train. Then, when he heard them all outside, he unlocked the door, and, stepping back, pulled it wide, so that all might get a sudden and full view of the beautiful Christmas tree.
For a moment they stood quite still, blinking from the brightness of it. Then there came a chorus of “Oh! oh!” “Well! well!” and, “How beautiful!” with another wild whoop from Tommy, ending up with, “Oh, gee! see my train!”
A second later he had bounded forward toward the precious train, and was ducking down under the tree for a closer view.
“Tommy!” “Oh, Tom!” “Thomas! Look out. The candles!”
There was a regular chorus of warnings,—but all too late. A second later a taper that had been fixed to a branch, struck by Tommy’s head, had fallen, and the loose cotton about the tree was afire, the blaze darting up into the branches.