“It is a wonder,” said Mr. Parlin, “that more children are not lamed for life by such accidents.”

“I have often thought of it,” said aunt Madge.  “Some little ones seem to be making hair-breadth escapes almost every day of their lives.  I believe Prudy would have been in her grave long ago, if it had not been for her guardian angel.”

The long-expected Christmas had come at last, and Prudy had stumbled into it, as she stumbled into everything else.  But it is an ill wind which blows no good to anybody; and it so happened that in all this confusion Susy was able to “wish a Merry Christmas” to Norah, and to the whole family besides.

When Mrs. Parlin found that the children were too thoroughly awake to go to sleep again that morning, she told them they might dress themselves in the parlor if they would keep as quiet as possible, and let the rest of the household take another nap.

It all seemed very strange and delightful to the little girls.  It was like another sort of life, this new arrangement of stealing about the house in the silent hours before daybreak.  Susy thought she should like to sit up all night, and sleep all day, if the mayor would only hush the streets; it would be so odd!

“O, how dark the clouds are!” said Prudy, peeping out of the window; “it fogs so I can’t see a single thing.  Susy, I’m going to keep at watch of the sky.  Don’t you s’pose, though, ’twill be Christmas all the same, if there’s a snow storm?”

“There’s been snow,” said Susy, “all in the night.  Look down at the pavement.  Don’t you wish that was frosted cake?”

“O, the snow came in the night, so not to wake us up,” cried Prudy, clapping her hands; “but it wouldn’t have waked us, you know, even in the night, for it came so still.”

“But why don’t the clouds go off?” she added, sadly.

“I don’t know,” replied Susy; “perhaps they are waiting till the sun comes and smiles them away.”

Such happy children as these were, as they sat peeping out of the window at the dull gray sky!

They did not know that a great mischief was begun that morning—­a mischief which was no larger yet than “a midge’s wing.”  They were watching the clouds for a snow storm; but they never dreamed of such things as clouds of trouble, which grow darker and darker, and which even the beautiful Christmas sun cannot “smile away.”

CHAPTER III.

SUSY’S CHRISTMAS.

It was bright and beautiful all day, and then, when no one could possibly wait any longer, it was Christmas evening.  The coal glowed in the grate with a splendid blaze:  all the gas-burners were lighted, and so were everybody’s eyes.  If one had listened, one might have heard, from out of doors, a joyful tinkling of sleigh-bells; yet I fancy nobody could have told whether the streets were still or noisy, or whether the sky had a moon in it or not; for nobody was quiet long enough to notice.