"I should think people might have more sense." "Oh, it wa'n't dark a mite!" interrupted Marty, eagerly.

"There wuz a blazin' fire on the hearth in the settin'-room, an' the sun a-streamin' into both the south winders.

It made shadders on the floor, jest as it does in the woods.

I'd jest ha' liked to set down there a spell, and not do nothin' but watch 'em." At this moment, a low knock at the door interrupted the conversation.
Marty opened the door, and there stood Mercy herself, holding in her hands some wreaths of laurel and pine, and a large earthen dish with ferns growing in it.

It was the day before Christmas; and Mercy had been busy all day, putting up the Christmas decorations in her rooms.