It was so much warmer that their mother let the children stay up a little later than usual; and Mary ventured to bring out her playthings and Janey’s.  These were two dolls, some bits of broken dishes, and a few little pine blocks.  Mary watched her mother’s face until she was sure she was “feeling good,” before she ventured to begin a play, because on days when mother was very discouraged, it made her feel worse if the children were noisy, and so they would keep quiet and speak in whispers.

“Does Santa Claus bring dolls?” asked Mary, suddenly, of Jack.

“Oh yes; dolls with pretty dresses on; and little bunnits and pink shoes; and little cubberds to keep their clothes in, and chairs, and everything,” said Jack, enthusiastically.

“Oh, my!” sighed Mary, as she looked dolefully at their poor little heap of toys.

Reader, their dolls were cobs, with square pieces of calico tied around them for dresses; and after hearing what Jack said, it wasn’t so much fun playing, and the little girls soon went to bed.  After they were asleep, Mrs. Boyd said, reproachfully: 

“Jack, I wish you wouldn’t say anything more about Christmas to the children.”

“Why, is it bad?” asked Jack, so astonished that he stopped whittling.

“No, of course not; but you’re getting their heads full of notions about fine things they never can have.”

Jack’s eyes twinkled.

“Oh, but you don’t understand, mother,” said he; “may be Santy Claus will come this year.”

His mother shook her head.

“You know I caught one quail to-day?” whispered Jack.

“Well!” said his mother.

“Well, I’m going to save ’em all the week, and Saturday take ’em to the meat-man in the village.  I guess he’ll buy ’em.  I heard that quails were fetching two cents apiece.  And I’m going to get enough money to buy the girls something nice, and you must make ’em hang up their stockings, mother, and then we’ll put the things in after they get asleep.”

His mother smiled quite cheerfully.  “Well,” said she, “do the best you can.”

Their father was away that evening.  He was generally away evenings, because most of the neighbors had cozier firesides than his, besides apples, and sometimes cider; and so he passed many a pleasant hour in gossip and farm-talk, while his own little family shivered gloomily at home.

By Saturday morning Jack had ten quails.  The four traps had not been as fruitful as they ought to have been, perhaps, but this was doing very well, and he trudged joyfully to town with his game hanging on a stick over his shoulder.  The meat-man did indeed give two cents apiece for quails, and he invited Jack to bring as many more as he could get.