"Oh, but won't that be fun!" exclaimed Mid, as he hurried silently forward.
"'Sh! there, Sally," whispered Uncle Frank, as he and his portly, merry-faced wife lugged their bundles after Mid.
It was less than half a minute before they were in the kitchen. They promptly shut the door between the dining-room—that was the sitting-room too—and the back parlor, and then how they did work!
Plenty of wood and shavings and kindlings were lying in front of the great Franklin stove in the dining-room, and there was quickly a blazing fire there, and in the kitchen too, and Mid insisted on lighting every lamp and candle he could lay his hands on.
Then the bundles came open, and their contents began to shine all around the chimney and over the mantel, and even on some of the chairs.
"It's too bad we haven't any of their stockings," began Aunt Sally; but she exclaimed, the next instant: "Oh, Frank! here's Maria's work-basket, all full of stockings. I know them. Those are Don's. There's a pair of Rad's. Molly's. Petish. Berry's—the dear little kitten! We've got 'em."
"Mother, let's set the table."
"That's it. You help him do it, father. Won't we give 'em a surprise!"
It was wonderful how those three did work, and not make any noise about it, and how they did change the looks of that dining-room and kitchen before five o'clock. Aunt Sally even put on the tea-kettle, and made some coffee, and it was evident that for once Santa Claus was disposed to be very much "at home."
If they had not been drinking their coffee, perhaps they might have heard a voice, not many minutes after five o'clock, whispering anxiously to somebody in the back parlor, "I say, there's a light coming through the key-hole!"