eleven o'clock
And so it was of Christmas at this Molyneux house . Besides the great wonders , like those wrought out by Aladdin 's slave of the lamp , there were the wonders , less gigantic but not less exquisite , of the morning hours , wrought out by the slave of the ring . How this series of wonders came about , the youngest of the children did not know , and were still imaginative enough and truly wise enough not to inquire . While , then , the two young men and their father were at one or the other Department , now on step-ladders , handing down dusty old pasteboard boxes , now under gaslights , running down long indexes with inquiring fingers and unwinking eyes , Matty and her mother watched and waited till eleven o'clock came , not saying much of what was on the hearts of both , but sometimes just recurring to it , as by some invisible influence , -- an influence which would overcome both of them at the same moment . For the mother and daughter were as two sisters , not parted far , even in age , and not parted at all in sympathy . For occupation , they were wrapping up in thin paper a hundred barley dogs , cats , eagles , locomotives , suns , moons , and stars , -- with little parcels of nuts , raisins , and figs , large red apples , and bright Florida oranges , -- all of which were destined to be dragged out of different stockings at daybreak . `` And now , dear , dear mamma , '' said Matty , `` you will go to bed , -- please do , dear mamma . ''