Little Prudys Sister Susy | Page 4

hair-breadth escapes almost every day of their lives. I
believe Prudy would have been in her grave long ago, if it had not been
for her guardian angel."
The long-expected Christmas had come at last, and Prudy had stumbled
into it, as she stumbled into everything else. But it is an ill wind which
blows no good to anybody; and it so happened that in all this confusion
Susy was able to "wish a Merry Christmas" to Norah, and to the whole
family besides.
When Mrs. Parlin found that the children were too thoroughly awake to
go to sleep again that morning, she told them they might dress
themselves in the parlor if they would keep as quiet as possible, and let
the rest of the household take another nap.
It all seemed very strange and delightful to the little girls. It was like
another sort of life, this new arrangement of stealing about the house in
the silent hours before daybreak. Susy thought she should like to sit up
all night, and sleep all day, if the mayor would only hush the streets; it
would be so odd!
"O, how dark the clouds are!" said Prudy, peeping out of the window;
"it fogs so I can't see a single thing. Susy, I'm going to keep at watch of
the sky. Don't you s'pose, though, 'twill be Christmas all the same, if
there's a snow storm?"
"There's been snow," said Susy, "all in the night. Look down at the
pavement. Don't you wish that was frosted cake?"
"O, the snow came in the night, so not to wake us up," cried Prudy,
clapping her hands; "but it wouldn't have waked us, you know, even in

the night, for it came so still."
"But why don't the clouds go off?" she added, sadly.
"I don't know," replied Susy; "perhaps they are waiting till the sun
comes and smiles them away."
Such happy children as these were, as they sat peeping out of the
window at the dull gray sky!
They did not know that a great mischief was begun that morning--a
mischief which was no larger yet than "a midge's wing." They were
watching the clouds for a snow storm; but they never dreamed of such
things as clouds of trouble, which grow darker and darker, and which
even the beautiful Christmas sun cannot "smile away."
CHAPTER III.
SUSY'S CHRISTMAS.
It was bright and beautiful all day, and then, when no one could
possibly wait any longer, it was Christmas evening. The coal glowed in
the grate with a splendid blaze: all the gas-burners were lighted, and so
were everybody's eyes. If one had listened, one might have heard, from
out of doors, a joyful tinkling of sleigh-bells; yet I fancy nobody could
have told whether the streets were still or noisy, or whether the sky had
a moon in it or not; for nobody was quiet long enough to notice.
But by and by, when the right time had come, the folding-doors were
opened, just like the two covers to a Christmas fairy book. Then, in a
second, it was so still you might have heard a pin drop.
Such a funny little old gentleman had arrived: his face alive with
dimples, and smiles, and wrinkles. His cheeks were as red and round as
winter apples, and where there wasn't a wrinkle there was a dimple; and
no doubt there was a dimple in his chin, and his chin maybe was double,
only you couldn't tell, for it was hidden ever so deep under a beard as
white as a snow-drift.

He walked along, tottering under the weight of a huge pack full of
presents. He extended his small arms towards the audience most
affectionately, and you could see that his antiquated coat-sleeves were
bristling with toys and glistening with ornaments. His eyes twinkled
with fun, and his mouth, which seemed nearly worn out with laughing,
grew bigger every minute.
It took the dear old gentleman some time to clear his throat; but when
he had found his voice, which at first was as fine as a knitting-needle,
and all of a tremble, he made
THE SPEECH OF SANTA CLAUS.
"How do, my darlings? How do, all round? Bless your little hearts, how
do you all do? Did they tell ye Santa wasn't a-comin', my dears? Did
your grandpas and grandmas say, 'Humph! there isn't any such a
person.' My love to the good old people. I know they mean all right; but
tell them they'll have to give it up now!"
(Here Santa Claus made a low bow. Everybody laughed and clapped;
but Prudy whispered, "O, don't he look old all over? What has he done
with his teeth? O, dear, has anybody pulled 'em out?")
"Yes, my dears," continued the