Margaret Sidney

“ So after that, when nightfall first began to make its appearance, Polly would hint mildly about bedtime.
“You hustle us so!” said Joel, after he had been sent off to bed for two or three nights unusually early.
“Oh, Joey, it's good for you to get to bed,” said Polly, coaxingly; “it'll make you grow, you know, real fast.”
“Well, I don't grow a-bed,” grumbled Joel, who thought something was in the wind. “You and Ben are going to talk, I know, and wink your eyes, as soon as we're gone.” ”

“ So for the next two days, they were almost distracted; the youngest ones asking countless questions about Santa Claus, and how he possibly could get down the chimney, Joel running his head up as far as he dared, to see if it was big enough.
“I guess he can,” he said, coming back in a sooty state, looking very much excited and delighted.
“Will he be black like Joey?” asked Phronsie, pointing to his grimy face.
“No,” said Polly; “he don't ever get black.” ”

“ We can't do anything, Ben Pepper, so there! there isn't anything to do anything with,” and with a flounce Polly sat down on the old wooden stool, and folding her hands looked at Ben in a most despairing way. ”