“That is right,” said the farmer; “then you will learn all about the fox and the crow.” Just at this minute, the farmer’s wife set up a cry. “Oh see the cunning little baskets! See the twenty-five little baskets! We must not send them home empty!” Then she whispered something in Molly’s ear, and she whispered something in Polly’s ear, and each Ink-Bottle Baby whispered to the next one. Then they carried their twenty-five little baskets with them and they all scampered down to the cellar. The farmer’s wife went with them and showed them five barrels of apples. The farmer’s wife said, “Help yourselves. Fill your baskets full.” What fun they had, picking apples first out of one barrel and then out of another! They were all ready to start home at last, when the farmer said, “Where are the apples for the Ink-Bottle Mamma?” Then the farmer’s wife gave her a bag of apples and a bag of nuts. The farmer hitched up his horses to the wagon, and the Ink-Bottle Mamma and the Ink-Bottle Babies all piled in. “Crack!” went the whip, and they were off and away singing and whistling as they went. The Ink-Bottle Mamma said to the farmer, “It is very kind in you to take us home in your wagon!” The farmer said, “I never had twenty-five grandchildren, and I love every one of your babies.” The Ink-Bottle Babies began to get sleepy. They tried to remember the story the farmer had told and they said, “There once was a fox at early morn.” “No! That is not right!” said Molly. Then they tried it again, and they said, “There once was a farmer’s field of corn.” “No! no!” shouted Polly, “that is not right.” The farmer had to tell the story again, and the Babies repeated it after him in a singsong way: “There once was a crow, and at early morn He spied the farmer’s field of corn; He said, ‘As sure as I am born I’ll have that corn, heigh-o!’” CHAPTER IV THE LITTLE DWARF’S CHRISTMAS Old December’s come again; Stockings large and small, Hang by the fireside with care, For Santa’ll fill them all; I heard the Ink-Bottle Babies cry, “Santa will in his sleigh dash by; We always like to have him call, For we have stockings large and small!” It was December and Christmas was coming. The Ink-Bottle Babies said, “May we hang up our stockings now? May we hang all our stockings in a row?” The Ink-Bottle Babies all talked at once. They made such a noise that the postman had to rap five times before he could be heard. Then Molly said, “Hush! Listen! I hear a knock!” Polly went dancing to the door and came back with a letter in her hand. The letter was addressed to the Ink-Bottle Mamma. She opened it and said, “The farmer and his wife want us to go and spend Christmas day with them! They say, ‘Tell the Babies to bring their stockings.’” The Ink-Bottle Babies were glad, you may be sure. They clapped their hands and shouted, “May we go, Ma? Say yes, Ma. Please let us go!”