"Santa Claus' reindeer can easily pull the sleigh tonight," said
Baby Pinky, as she looked from the window.
"Come, get back into bed!" called Curly Tail, "or Santa Claus won't
come."
It was close to midnight, and still the snow came down. Outside the
Twistytail house, just as outside of every other house where the
children believe in Santa Claus, there was heard the ringing of
bells. Then some one called:
"Whoa, there, reindeer!"
Then there was a noise in the chimney. Maybe it was the wind, or
maybe it was a little bird crawling in to get warm. I don't know.
Anyway, there was a noise, but the piggie children never woke up.
And then--and then--and then--in a little while it was Christmas
morning. Somewhere a horn blew. Curly Tail heard it first, and,
though it was scarcely daylight, he hopped out of bed.
"Wake up!" he cried, "Wake up everybody! It's Christmas! Merry
Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas!" cried Flop Ear.
"Merry Christmas!" echoed Baby Pinky, and they all rushed
downstairs.
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