and Mother sleep; they open the door and shout:_

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!

_Two rather sleepy voices, from_ MOTHER _first and then from_
FATHER, _answer:_ Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. _And_ MOTHER
_continues,_ All right, children; we'll be there in a moment, as soon
as we have put our wrappers on.

_The children go over to the fire-place, and feel the lumpy stockings;
and then in come Father and Mother in wrappers and nightcaps._

Oh, _says_ FATHER, old Santa Claus hasn't forgotten us, has he? And
candy canes are still in fashion, I see; I'm glad of that. Bring Mother
her stocking, Polly; and Jack, get mine for me. We'll sit down and take
our time about it.

No fair, Jack, _cries_ POLLY. You're peeking into your stocking.
I've only felt of mine.

But my thing is in a box, _says_ JACK, so that I can't see anything
anyway. Oh, let's begin quick.

All right, _says_ FATHER, and ladies first. Mother, you lead off.

Shall I? _says_ MOTHER, _feeling her stocking_. Oh, I know
what this round thing is: it's an orange. No, it isn't either: it's a
ball of knitting cotton. Just what I want, and the very kind I use. Now,
Polly, it's your turn to see what is in the top of yours.