"Seven minutes of twelve."

"Waken them, then. There isn't any too much time."

So Mr. Maynard sprung a small "watchman's rattle." It made a pleasant
whirr, but he was obliged to hold it near each child's ear before those
deep slumbers were disturbed.

"What is it?" said King, who first opened his eyes. "Kitty, you're
asleep!"

His last waking thought possessed him as his eye fell on his sleeping
sister, he spoke before he realized that he had been asleep himself.

"What's the matter?" he said, seeing all the people standing about, and
noticing the rug over himself.

"Nothing's the matter," answered his father, blithely, "only the New Year
is hurrying toward us, and we all want to greet it together."

"You bet we do!" cried King, now broad awake, and shaking himself out of
his rug as he jumped up.

Mrs. Maynard was rousing Kitty, and sat beside the half-asleep child with
her arm round her, while Grandma was treating Marjorie in the same way.

"It seems a shame," began Grandma, but Uncle Steve interrupted:

"A shame to wake them? Not a bit of it! It would be a shame to let them