it is christmas eve. jan and katrina have taken off their wooden shoes. they have scrubbed them white as snow, and they have set them down by the fireplace.

“we must not forget the white horse,” says jan.

so, near by, they have placed a pretty red and yellow basket. in it are some carrots, some hay, and some oats. they are for the white horse of st. nicholas.

mother tucks the children in their funny dutch beds in the wall.

they look very snug and warm. their round cheeks are very red and their eyes are very bright.

“i hope st. nicholas will not leave me a switch, mother,” says jan.

“o, i hope not,” says katrina. “you do not think he will, do you, mother?”

mother smiles and shakes her head: “i cannot tell, my little ones,” she says. “go to sleep now, and in the morning we shall see.”

so jan and katrina turn their faces to the wall. they cuddle up in their warm feather beds and go to sleep.