ied of
cranberries, it was replenished with popcorn. Bobby unhooked the
long-handled wire popper from its nail in the back entry and set to work
over the open fire. It was great fun to hear the corn explode; and great
fun to keep it shaking and turning until the wire cage was filled to its
capacity with this indoor snow. Once Bobby neglected to fasten the top
securely, and the first miniature explosion blew it open so that the
popcorn deluged into the fire. When the last little cannon--for so Bobby
always imagined them--had uttered its belated voice, Bobby knocked loose
the fastening and poured the white, beautiful corn into the pan. Always
were some kernels which had refused to expand. "Old Maids," Bobby called
them.

This popcorn, too, was to be strung by needle and thread. It was a
difficult task. The corn was apt to split, or to prove impervious to the
needle. However, the strings were wonderful, like giant snowdrops
shackled together to do honour to the spirit of Christmas. Bobby hung
them also on the branches of the tree. His part of the celebration was
finished.

Mrs. Orde believed that Christmas excitement should have a full day in
which to expend itself; so Christmas eve offered nothing except a
throbbing anticipation. One old custom, however, was observed as usual.
After supper Mr. Orde seated himself in front of the fire.

"Get the book, Bobby," said he.

Bobby had the book all ready. It was a very thin wide book, printed
entirely on linen, in bright colours, and was somewhat cracked and
ragged, as though it had seen much service. Bobby presented this to his
father and climbed on his knee. Mr. Orde opened the book and began to
read that one verse of all verses replete to childhood with the very
essence of this children's season:

"_'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings all hung by the chimney with care
In the hope that St. Nicholas soon would be there._"

As the reading progressed, Bobby thrilled more and more at the
cumulation of the interest. St. Nick's cry to his steeds:

"_----Now Dolly, now Vixen!
Now Feather! Now, Snowball! Now Dunder and Blitzen!_"

brought his heart to his mouth with excitement that culminated in that
final surge:

"_To the top of the house, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away! dash away! dash away, all!_"

When the reading was finished he sank back with a happy s