“We thought of that before,” said Rose.  “But the noise sounded long before Santa Claus comes around.  I’m sure it couldn’t be him.”

“But he’s coming, anyhow,” said Violet.  “Grandpa said so, and I hope he brings me a new cradle for my doll.”

“I want a new pair of skates,” said Russ.  “Mine are getting too small.”

“I want a ship I can sail in the Summer, and a bigger sled,” came from Laddie.

And so the children began to talk about Christmas, and what they wanted Santa Claus to bring them.

The weather was now cold and blowy and blustery, with a snowstorm nearly every day.  But the six little Bunkers went out often to play, even if it was cold.  They had lots of fun.

Now and again the queer noise would sound, but, though each time the grown folks went to look for it, they could not find it.  It seemed to sound all through the house, almost like the blowing of Mr. Thompson’s horn, only not so loud.

“Well, I declare!” exclaimed Grandpa Ford after one night’s search, when nothing had been found, “this surely is a mystery!”

“I could make a riddle about it, only I’d never know the answer,” said Laddie.  “And a riddle without an answer is no good.”

“That’s very true!” said his grandfather, laughing.

The days passed.  Christmas came nearer and nearer.  There was to be a tree at Great Hedge, and the children were also going to hang up their stockings.  Grandpa Ford and Daddy Bunker went out into the woods and cut the tree, which was placed in the parlor, and the doors shut.

“It wouldn’t do for any of you to go in there from now on,” said Mrs. Bunker.  “You might surprise Santa Claus, and he doesn’t like to be surprised.”

Finally came Christmas Eve.  The children listened to the reading of Bible stories as they sat before the fire, and then went early to bed so “morning would come quicker.”

But, in spite of the fact that they wanted to go to sleep, it was some time before the older ones dropped off into Slumberland.  Then, in the middle of the night, it seemed, there sounded throughout the house the sound of a horn being blown.

“Oh!  Oh!” exclaimed Rose, suddenly awakening and sitting up in bed.  “Is that—­is that the——­”

“It’s the horn of Santa Claus!” cried Mrs. Bunker.  “Wake up!  It’s Christmas morning!”

And so it was.

CHAPTER XXV

THE GHOST AT LAST

“Merry Christmas!” called the six little Bunkers.

“Merry Christmas!” answered Grandpa and Grandma Ford and Daddy and Mother Bunker.  “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” called Dick as he tramped in from the barn, all covered with snow.

And such a jolly Christmas as it was!  If each of the six little Bunkers did not get exactly what he or she wanted, all got something just as good.

There were toys, dolls, sleds, games and picture books.  There was a magic lantern for Russ—­something he had long wanted.  There was a toy airship, that could be wound up and would fly, for Laddie.  This he had wished for many times.