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."
"We will," said Curly Tail and Flop Ear and Baby Pinky, and off they
trotted, after kissing their papa and mamma good-night, their little
kinky tails flopping up and down like a lady's earrings when she
runs after a trolley car.
Darker and darker it grew, and still the snowflakes kept coming down
until all the ground was white and the roofs of houses, too, and the
gate posts and the pump in the yard and everything--all white,
ready for Christmas.
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