"Oh dear! they're coming. Santa Claus is coming. Christmas is coming. What'll I do?"
Bijah was scared; but there was the wide mouth of Grandfather Vrooman's grain-bag "stocking," and almost before Bijah knew what he was doing he had slipped in.
Poor Bijah! The moment he was in he discovered that he could not climb out. He tried hard, but there was nothing on the sides of the bag for his feet to climb on. Next moment, too, he wanted to crouch down as low as he could, for all the noise seemed to be coming nearer.
So it was, indeed, and at the head of it were grandfather and grandmother and the other grown-up people, trying to keep back the boys and girls until they should all be gathered.
"Where's Bijah?" asked grandfather, after he had counted twice around, and was sure about the rest.
"Bijah!" exclaimed Liph. "Why, I looked in the store-room; he isn't there."
"Hope the little chap didn't get scared and run away."
"Dear me—through the snow!" exclaimed grandmother.
"Of course not," said Aunt Jane. "He's around somewhere. Let's let the children in. They're all here."