George Edward swelled with pride at his mother's popularity. "Come on," he cried, "see who gets down first." At that there was a regular stampede, old as well as young taking part, uncle Thomas only remaining to light the Christmas candles on the mantel and in the tall candlesticks on the piano underneath the holly and pine branches. When the company assembled again in the library it was hard to believe that it was the same one so lately within those walls, and it was marvelous how much in the way of adornment could be accomplished in ten moments by one who gave "his whole mind to it." Some of the neckties however were tied on the way down stairs, and even boots buttoned in the same convenient resting-place, but these were only trifling matters when the general dress-parade was so fine, and nobody noticed any little discrepancy of attire in another. The children planted themselves before the row of stockings hanging in the candlelight, and before the fire on the hearth, now poked up to its duty, and crackling away in all the proper Christmas jollity. They pretended not to be excited, but it was pretty hard work. At last Bamford said, "Hortense is in a dreadful hurry. It's too bad to keep her waiting. Let's begin." "So she should," said uncle Thomas, with a twinkle in his eye, "have hers at once. Hurry up, Hortie, and pull it off the nail. Bamford is so big I suppose he's going to wait till the last." Bamford glared at him, and burst out: "Indeed I'm not. We are all children tonight." "That's right, my boy," said uncle Thomas approvingly, "only say what you mean at first, and not get things over other people's shoulders. Now, one, two, three, see who gets his Christmas stocking first." It carried the older part of the company back to their young days to see the scramble that followed, and they laughed until the tears came, to witness the gale the children were in. It was a Christmas frolic pure and simple, and pretty soon every soul in the room was engaged in it; the end was a shower of comfits and bonbons scattered in approved style after the stockings were declared really empty, yielding nothing more from vigorous shakings. "I never was so rich in my life," cried George Edward in a burst of gratitude, patting his pile of presents. "It was just the jolliest stocking my Santa Claus ever brought," and he marched up to put his arm around his mother's neck. "I don't think I got as much as I did last year when I staid at home," remarked Fisher slowly and examining once more his pile. It was an awful speech to make, and it showed the soul of the boy. But it was forgiven as a slip of the tongue due to Christmas hilarity. What a gala day! Nobody thought of being tired till well on into the night again, and then games and Christmas songs around aunt Ruth's cottage piano, being over, they one and all began to think of bed, and to speak even lovingly of the old routine to-morrow.