A bright fire was blazing in the big fireplace, and in front of it, on a
white fur rug, the four sat down, while Nannie hovered around, ready to
inspect and admire, as she knew she would be called upon to do.

The big, light nursery was a delightful room, and with the morning
sunshine, the shining yellow floor, white-painted woodwork, and bright
fire-brasses, it seemed full of Christmas glow and warmth.

Grouped on the rug, the children immediately proceeded to the business of
emptying their stockings, and as the various things were pulled out and
exhibited, everybody oh'd and ah'd at everybody else, and they all began
to nibble at candies, and at last Christmas had really begun.

The gifts in their stockings were always of a pretty, but trifling
nature, as their more worth while presents were received later, from the
tree.

But there were always lots of little toys and trinkets, and always
oranges and nuts and candies, and always tin whistles and rattles, and
other noise-producing contraptions, so that soon the four grew gay and
noisy and Nurse was obliged to pick up Baby Rosamond, lest she should be
inadvertently upset.

But perched in Nurse's lap, the little one waved a Christmas flag, and
blew on a tiny tin trumpet, and quite made her share of the general
hullaballoo. Marjorie had a new pencil-case, and some pretty
handkerchiefs, and an inkstand, and a silver bangle, and a little diary,
and some lovely hair-ribbons.