Would you believe from the look of things, that to-morrow is Christmas?  There is not a flake of snow anywhere.  This roof is as clear as it is in summer.  These pine trees, whose boughs hang over the roof, are all green.  The chimney has not even an icicle on it.  I hear people saying that we have no old-fashioned winters any more.  Even old Mother Cary said to me the other day, “Jack Frost,” said she, “when are you going to give them a real snow-storm?” But I told her not to be impatient:  I would attend to it all in good time.  And when I do begin, it doesn’t take me long to get up a fine old storm, I can tell you. Now he walks up to the Chimney, and knocks on the side of it.  Say, old fellow. He waits a moment; then knocks again.  Wake up there. He waits a moment; then knocks again.  Wake up, I say.

And now—­would you believe it?—­the Chimney opens, first, one of his eyes, then the other; and then his mouth and nose appear together.  Each of his eyes is exactly the shape and size of one brick.  So is his nose.  And his mouth is as long as two bricks side by side.  They all turn a very bright red, when they appear, as though light were shining through them.

Jack Frost goes on talking:  What do you mean, Mr. Chimney, by going to sleep in winter, I’d like to know?  Summer is the time for you chimneys to go to sleep; but in winter when the people in the houses have their fires burning, you ought to keep wide awake, so as to carry off the smoke; don’t you know that?  Sleepy head!  You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

The chimney answers:  Nothing of the sort.  Have you forgotten what night this is, Jack Frost?  Don’t you know that this is Christmas Eve, when the fires are all put out, so that Santa Claus can climb down without getting burned?  That’s why I was taking a little nap.  See? He winks with one eye.

Jack Frost says:  Oh, that’s it, is it?  Well, that’s true enough.  I hadn’t thought of old Santa Claus.  He’ll be here before long, probably.

Yes, too soon, says THE CHIMNEY; for I haven’t had my sleep half out, and here you are, keeping me awake for nothing.  With your kind permission, I’ll take another forty winks.

And now his eyes close, then his nose and mouth disappear, and in a moment he is sound asleep again.

Lazy old fellow! exclaims JACK FROST. Well, I must get to work if we are to have a real old-fashioned storm before morning.  And first for some wind.  Where are those Wind Fairies, I wonder?  They ought to be here by now. He puts his hands beside his mouth, and calls in a high voice: Hoo—­oo!  Hoo—­oo!

THE WIND FAIRIES are heard from far, far away, calling in answer: Hoo-oo!  Hoo-oo!

JACK FROST, as soon as he hears them, says joyfully: There they are.  They’ll be here in a second.