“Hold on!” cried his brother Flop Ear, “that isn’t right, Curly.  It should be not a mouse stirring—­I know that poem.”

“You’re right, Floppy dear,” admitted Curly Tail, “I read it wrong, but anyhow tomorrow is Christmas, and I was thinking so much about the toy automobile I want, that I guess I put one in the verse by mistake.”

“All right, then I’ll forgive you,” said Floppy, who was sitting by the fireplace, stringing red, white and blue popcorn for Baby Pinky’s rag doll’s Christmas tree.  “And I’m thinking of the toy steam engine I want,” went on Flop Ear.  “Oh! why doesn’t Christmas hurry up and come?”

“That’s what I want to know,” put in Pinky, as she dressed her doll in her best dress, all ready for the holiday that was soon to be there.

Oh such goings on as there were in the Twistytail house!  The holly with its red berries, and its prickly leaves, had been put in the windows and on the gas chandeliers had been hung the magical mystical mistletoe, with its white berries, and whoever stood under it would have to love everybody else.

And such good smells as there were coming from the kitchen!  Pumpkin pies, and sour milk pudding, and apple cake, to say nothing of cornmeal lollypops with chocolate in the middle.

Mrs. Twistytail was as busy as anything, and as for Papa Twistytail, he had stayed home from the office on purpose to help decorate the house.  Flop Ear and Curly Tail and Baby Pinky had written letters to Santa Claus the night before, and put them near the chimney.  And, in the morning, would you believe it? those letters were gone!  Yes, siree! not a trace of them left!

“Oh, goody!” cried Baby Pinky, “Santa Claus came in his reindeer sleigh and took them.  Now we’ll get just what we want.”

Busier and busier became everything in the Twistytail house, and for that matter, there were busy times in the homes of Sammie and Susie Littletail, and Johnnie and Billy Bushytail, and the Wibblewobble duck children, and Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy dogs.  And as for Uncle Wiggily Longears, the old rabbit gentleman, who was quite rich since he found his fortune, he was so busy that he wore out two rheumatism crutches and Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy had to gnaw him another from a broom stick, instead of a corn stalk.

Then it began to snow.  Oh, how the white flakes did swirl down out of the sky, blowing here and there like feathers.  They piled up in drifts, and the animal children raced through them, kicking their feet about, tossing the white flakes up in the air, falling down in the drifts and making snowballs.  And the wind came down the chimney like a fairy blowing a blast on a trumpet.  Oh, it was the most jolly time of all the year!  Uncle Wiggily said to himself, and he ought to know, if anybody does.

“You must go to bed early this night, children,” said Mrs. Twistytail after supper.  “The sooner you are asleep the sooner will it be Christmas.”