Christmas at Stony Creek

Chapter One

Pip, Short for Pipsqueak

They roasted the last chestnut the night Papa left home.

He sat in his chair in front of the fireplace with Nibs and Nan tucked in on either side. Mama knitted in her chair across from him, her foot rocking Baby Finny asleep in the cradle.

The three older children sprawled on the floor. The glow of the fire flickered over their faces. Will, with his injured leg, stared silently into the flames. Kit lay beside him, whittling his newest carving.

Pip was the one with her head in a book.

Pip was always the one with her head in a book.

"Better look sharp, Pip," Papa warned in his deep voice as he cracked the warm chestnut open, "or the greedy beggars you call your brothers and sisters won't leave you a crumb."

"When is a mouse a bookworm?" said Kit. "When her name is Pip."

"Pip's a worm. Pip's a worm," chanted Nibs and Nan, and giggled.

Pip looked up at her father and smiled. He was the one who had named her Pip, short for Pipsqueak, when she was born.