"Woof, woof, woof," barked Bush.
Bijah stood still in the door while Liph went near enough to give that fire a poke, and he could hear Grandfather Vrooman away back in the sitting-room:
"Now, my dear, we'll stick him away somewhere. Put him in one of the stockings, and hang him up."
"That's me," groaned Bijah. "He's going to make a present of me to somebody. Oh dear! I wish I could run away."
But he could not, for there was Liph and there was Bush, and it was getting dark.
"Now, my dear," went on grandfather, "I'll just light up, and then I'll go and meet that train. I'll bring Prue and her folks, and Pat'll meet the other, and bring Ellen and hers. Won't the old house be full this time!"
"He's caught some more somewhere," whispered Bijah to himself. "I wonder who'll get 'em? Who'll get me?"
That was an awful question, but Liph and Bush all but ran against him just then, and he heard grandmother say:
"You'll have to stick candles on the window-sills. I can't spare any lamps for up stairs."
"But, my dear, it's got to be lit up—every room of it. I want 'em to know Christmas is coming."