“An' dat ain't all.” Aunt Crissy closed her eyes and threw her head back, as if to add emphasis to what she was about to say. “Dat ain't all--dem ar stockin's wuz done fulled up wid goodies, an' dey wuz done fulled up whilst I wuz a-settin' right dar.” No style of type has yet been invented that would convey even a faint idea of the impressive tone in which Aunt Cissy made this startling announcement. “Ole Sandy wuz gittin' you in close quarters, mon,” exclaimed Harbert. “Man, you er talkin' now,” said Aunt Crissy. “I wuz settin' right spang at de fier-place,” she went on, describing her position with appropriate gestures, “an' I could er des retched out my han'--so--an' totched de stock-in's, an' yit, 'spite er dat, 'long come ole Sandy Claus, whilst I wuz settin' dar noddin' an' fulled um up. Dat des what he done. He come, he did, an' fulled um up right fo' my face. Ef my eyes had er des bin open I'd a seed 'im, an' ef I'd a seed 'im, I'd a grabbed 'im right by de coat-tail. Yasser! I'd a grabbed 'im ef he'd a kyar'd me up de chimberly.” Wattie and Willie listened open-mouthed, so intense was their interest; and so, it may be said, did Joe Maxwell. But now Willie spoke: “Suppose you had caught him, Aunt Crissy, what would you have done then?” “Shoo, honey! I'd a helt him hard an' fas': I'd a rastled wid 'im, an' when he'gun ter git de better un me, I'd a squalled out same ez one er dez yere wil' cats. I'd a squalled so loud I'd a fair 'larmed de settlement.” Aunt Crissy paused, folded her fat arms across her broad bosom and looked in the fire. Harbert, with a long pair of tongs, as musical as those that Shakespeare wrote about, put the noses of the chunks together, and carefully placed a fat pine knot in the center. Then he leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.