gravely, "Dear Piccola, don't you know what Christmas is?"

Oh, yes, Piccola knew it was the happy day when the baby Christ was
born, and she had been to church on that day and heard the beautiful
singing, and had seen the picture of the Babe lying in the manger,
with cattle and sheep sleeping round about. Oh, yes, she knew all that
very well, but what was a Christmas present?

Then the children began to laugh and to answer her all together. There
was such a clatter of tongues that she could hear only a few of the
words now and then, such as "chimney," "Santa Claus," "stockings,"
"reindeer," "Christmas Eve," "candies and toys." Piccola put her hands
over her ears and said, "Oh, I can't understand one word. You tell me,
Rose." Then Rose told her all about jolly Santa Claus, with his red
cheeks and white beard and fur coat, and about his reindeer and sleigh
full of toys. "Every Christmas Eve," said Rose, "he comes down the
chimney, and fills the stockings of all the good children; so,
Piccola, you hang up your stocking, and who knows what a beautiful
Christmas present you will find when morning comes!" Of course Piccola
thought this was a delightful plan, and was very pleased to hear about
it. Then all the children told her of every Christmas Eve they could
remember, and of the presents they had had; so that she went home
thinking of nothing but dolls and hoops and balls and ribbons and
marbles and wagons and kites.

She told her mother about Santa Claus, and her mother seemed to think
that perhaps he did not know there was any little girl in that house,
and very likely he would not come at all. But Piccola felt very sure
Santa Claus would remember her, for her little friends had promised to
send a letter up the chimney to remind him.