But when she wakened, she said that all she could dream about was just a lot of little frogs sitting up very straight on the bank of a brook, with a great, big frog on a great, big log talking to them.
"I think that was a lovely dream," said Laura; and then little Susy was happy."Now let's read some more stories," said Eva, and perhaps next time we'll see some really-truly fairies.
—Fannie E. Ostrander.
Kate and Dick had a good many pets. There were Frisk and Ponto and Fuss and another little dog called Fly. There was the pony, Fleet, and the newest pet of all was a dear little colt that Kate's papa had given to her for her very own because the pony she rode really belonged to Dick.
This colt she had named Fairy, and she took great care of it. Fly and Fairy were good friends, and they had a funny way of looking at each other that made the children laugh.
Then the baby that they all loved lived here. Her name was May, and she was Kate's sister. She was a sweet little thing, just beginning to walk and to talk. She could say "chicky" quite plainly, and she liked to toddle out and watch the little girls feed the chickens.
But I can't begin to tell you all the good times the children had that summer. They were happy all the time, and grandma said they were so good that it was really no trouble at all to have them there.
But at last one Saturday evening, papa, who always came out from the city to spend Sunday with them, said they must start for home the next Monday.
They did want to stay longer, but papa laughed and said, "Christmas is coming now, you know, and Santa Claus couldn't bring things way out here as easy as he could get them to you in town."
Then the children began to think of Christmas and to tease grandpa and grandma to come and spend it with them, and of course papa and mamma teased too; so at last they promised, and the children said good-by to their pets and to Kate and May and Dick and went away shouting?
"Good-by, grandma. Now remember you promised!"
After the children reached home they talked of grandma's nearly all the time when they were not talking of Christmas, and Bessie wrote a letter to Santa Claus asking him to be sure and bring a pair of his nicest gold-bowed spectacles for grandma because she had lost her old ones, and not to forget a gold-headed cane for grandpa.
At last Christmas Eve came, and grandma and grandpa were there, and the children hung up their stockings, and Bessie said that grandma and grandpa must be sure and hang up theirs too; then, after they had gone to bed, the smaller children whispered for a long time about Santa Claus and listened to hear his sleigh bells on the roof.
"I don't see how he can get down the chimney," whispered Bessie. "You know he's so fat in all his pictures."
"Maybe he takes off his coat," whispered Clara, "then he wouldn't be quite so big." But she didn't see how he could get down the chimney, either.
Once or twice they were sure they heard him on the roof, and they covered up their heads so he wouldn't think they were peeping, and at last they went to sleep before they knew it.
Willie and Tom were just as anxious as the little girls, and whispered just as much, and they all dreamed of Santa Claus.
Bessie and Clara were the first ones up. They shouted with delight when they looked in their stockings. There was a dear little dolly in each stocking—a dolly with real hair and eyes that opened and shut, and the dollies were dressed very prettily. They were too large to go into the stockings, so they just stood in them, looking as though they were ready to jump down.