Were we any different? I think not, papa; for I recollect very well that I used to try to peep through the key-hole on Christmas Eve, and was greatly vexed that my good mother always hung a cloth before it. – C.C. Shackford, “Christmas Eve in Germany,” c.1870, from the German
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Christmas Eve came at last. The day was bright and beautiful, the ground crisp and hard, and the hoary trees shining like diamonds! What a happy day it brought to many, to most! Even in the poorest village a little green fir branch testified that it was Christmas Eve. – Amy Campbell, “Christmas Eve,” 1872
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