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"I'd ravver stay here," said Rosy Posy, nestling contentedly on her perch. "'Sides, I must be here for Kismus to-morrow." "Oh, is Christmas to-morrow? How could I have forgotten that?" "You didn't forget it, Uncle Steve," said Kitty, "for I see bundles sticking out of every one of your pockets!" "Bless my soul! How odd! Santa Claus must have tucked them in, as I came through his street.
"No, you musser," persisted Katie; "we've got a Santa Claw in our chimley; you musser go home." "It isn't for Santa Claus at all, darling it is for my papa and mamma's wedding. To stand up, so they can be married over again. Now kiss me, and let me go." "Her's goin' home to Kismus pie," remarked Katie, as she took her mournful way with her mamma to the house where they were visiting.
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