CHAPTER II.
BEFORE DAYLIGHT.
On Christmas morning, at three o'clock, there was a great bustle and pattering of little feet, and buzzing of little voices trying to speak in whispers.

Susy and Prudy were awake and astir.
"Where _do_ you s'pose the stockings are ?" buzzed Prudy, in a very loud whisper.
"Right by the bed-post, Prudy Parlin; and if you don't take care we'll wake everybody up.--'Sh! 'Sh!" "Mine's pinned on," said Prudy; "and I've pricked my fingers.

O deary me!" "Well, of course you've waked 'em all now," exclaimed Susy, indignantly: "I might have pricked my fingers to pieces, but I wouldn't have said a word." Mr.and Mrs.Parlin, who were in the next room, were wide awake by this time; but they said nothing, only listened to the whispers of the children, which grew fainter, being smothered and kept down by mouthfuls of candy, lozenges, and peanuts.
The little girls longed for daybreak.

The sun, however, seemed to be in no haste, and it was a long while before there was a peep of light.

Susy and Prudy waited, wondering whether the sun would really forget to show his face; but all the while they waited they were eating candy; so it was neither dull nor lonely.