"Steady, now!" said grandfather, as he swung open the door into the "dark room." "Don't touch anything till we all get in. Stand around the tree."
He himself stepped right in front of it, and he looked more like a great, tall old Santa Claus than ever as he stood there. The children's eyes were opening wider and wider as they slipped around in a sort of very impatient circle; but grandfather's own eyes shut for a moment, as they had a habit of doing sometimes, and his white beard was all of a tremble. It was only for a moment, but when he looked around again, he said:
"Now, children, wait. Which of you can tell me what Child it was that came into the world on the first Christmas morning?"
They had not been quite ready to answer a question that came so suddenly, and before any of them could speak, a clear, sweet little voice came right out of the middle of the tree:
"I know. And the shepherds found Him in a manger, and His mother was with Him. He sent down after my mother last summer."
"Bijah!" exclaimed grandfather, but grandmother was already pushing aside the boughs, and now they all could see him. Only his curly head and his little shoulders showed above the grain bag, and Uncle Hiram shouted:
"Father Vrooman, he is in your stocking! Who could have put him there!"
"I think I know," said grandfather, in a very low, husky kind of voice; but all the Simpsons and Hopkinses and Hardys broke loose at that very moment, and it took them till breakfast-time to compare with each other the things they found in their stockings, and all the other wonderful fruits of that splendid Christmas tree.
Bijah was lifted out of the bag, and he got his stocking on after it was empty. For some reason he couldn't guess why all the grown-up people kissed him, and grandfather made him sit next to him at breakfast.