"Christmas has come."
Nobody could have described that next half-hour to have saved his life, and Aunt Sally said she had never been so happy in all hers.
"Molly," said Petish, "won't you go up stairs and bring down all our clothes?"
"Yes, children," said their mother, "you must get dressed."
"Yes; and, mother," said Petish, "there was only two pairs of my stockings in the basket, and they're both full. If Molly'll bring the pair I had on, there's more'n enough to fill 'em."
So there was, for Aunt Sally had not only bought and brought everything Mr. and Mrs. Burnell had written to her about, but she had heaped on a huge assortment of presents on her own account, and Petish had at least her share, while Uncle Frank had looked out for Molly, and nobody had forgotten Berry or any of the boys.
It was quite the usual time when they got ready to eat at last, but there was nothing of what Rad and Petish called a "dispoint" in any face at that breakfast table.
Santa Claus had come.