Heap on more wood—the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will
We’ll keep our Christmas merry still.
Hurrah! Christmas holidays at last!” said
Susan, running into the house joyfully. She
was just back from boarding-school with her brother Benny, who had broken up the same day.
He came into the house behind her, carrying a heavy bag. His mother was paying the taxi outside.
Benny set down the bag, and gave a yell.
“Ann! Peter! Where are you? We’re back!”
Ann and Peter were the younger brother and sister still at home. They came tearing down the stairs and flung themselves on Benny and Susan.
“Oh! Welcome back! You’re earlier than we
expected! Do you know we’re going to the pantomimenon Boxing Day?”
“Are there any Christmas cards for us?” said Susan. “Have any come yet? Ooooh—I do love Christmas time.”
The Christmas Book av Enid Blyton
Mer Blytonskt än så här kan det inte bli — kärnfamilj, internatskola och traditioner.
I den här boken är kunskaper och traditioner inbakade i en berättelse om hur en familj med fyra barn firar jul.
Vad man än tycker om den förkättrade Enid Blyton, så är det ett faktum att hon är älskad av tusentals barn.
Själv är jag fascinerad av denna komplicerade kvinna — vilket jag skrivit om tidigare.
He took the box carefully down the ladder, then down the stairs and into the hall, where the others were bringing in the Christmas tree.
“Oh, what a lovely big one!” cried Peter, in excitement. “It’s bigger than last year’s, I’m sure it is. Isn’t it a beauty?”
It really was. It was in the wooden tub that och was used year after year. The children would soon wrap red, crinkled paper round it to make it gay. They put the tree in its place, and it towered up high, taller than any of the children.