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"Sant' Claus comin'; m'y Kwismus!" "Jes' listen to Shaver!" chuckled The Hopper. "'Course Santy is comin, an' we're goin' to hang up Shaver's stockin', ain't we, Shaver?" He pinned both stockings to the foot-board of Humpy's bed. By the time this was accomplished under the hostile eyes of Mary and Humpy, Shaver slept the sleep of the innocent.
Oh, Billie!" She sprang toward the door and clasped the frightened child to her heart. The three men gathered round them, staring dully. The Hopper from behind the door waited for Muriel's joy over Billie's return to communicate itself to his father and the two grandfathers. "Me's dot two chick-ees for Kwismus," announced Billie, wriggling in his mother's arms.
"M'y Kwismus!" piped Shaver. The Hopper decided to run the machine home and there ponder the disposition of his blithe companion with the care the unusual circumstances demanded. "'Urry up; me's goin' 'ome to me's gwanpa's kwismus t'ee!" "Right ye be, little un; right ye be!" affirmed The Hopper. The youngster was evidently blessed with a sanguine and confiding nature.
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