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She wished Lill had found out how many black marks she had, and whether that lady was Mrs. Santa Claus and had, in fact, obtained more accurate information about many things. But when she asked about some of them afterwards, Lill said she didn't know, for the next time she had traveled in that direction she found Santa Claus Land had moved.
I have no "meditations," suggested by this spot where the very first "Merry Christmas!" was uttered in all the world, and from whence the friend of my childhood, Santa Claus, departed on his first journey, to gladden and continue to gladden roaring firesides on wintry mornings in many a distant land forever and forever.
"No, that's a book-name," said Santa Claus so scornfully that Tommy was sorry he had asked him, especially as he added, "Isn't, not ain't." "But they haint any harness," said Tommy, using the word Peake always used, "I mean, hisn't any no, I mean haven't any harness. I wish I had some harness for them." "Pooh! wishing doesn't do anything by itself," said Santa Claus. "Oh! I tell you.
Of course, she hung her stocking two of them lest Santa Claus should forget one, and she lay awake for a long time and got up two or three times to see if anything had happened. When I told her that Santa Claus would not come until she was asleep, she shut her eyes and said, "He will think girl is asleep."
Poot soon when they git a little older 'n' they find out how you been afoolin' 'em about Santy Claus, they'll wonder if what you been a-tellin' 'em about the Good Man ain't off o' the same bolt o' goods, an' another one o' them cunningly devised fables. Think they'll come any blessin' on tellin' a lie? An' a-actin' it out? No, sir. No, sir. Ain't ary good thing to a lie, no way you kin fix it.
Then Santa Claus waked up the fairy, and told her that if she didn't take better care of Rosy Posy he should put some other fairy into her place, and set her to keep guard over a prickly, scratchy, blackberry-bush." "Is there really any fairy?" asked Dorry, who had listened to this narrative with open mouth. "Of course," answered Katy.
She is a true socialist, and, like Santa Claus, she visits the homes of the very poor and bestows gifts upon their children. Some of the most perfect ladies I have ever met have been uneducated women living in poverty and gloom. I do not say the most beautiful, for suffering and poverty are never beautiful.
What he dreaded was that twenty miles of water under the noonday sun, and the problem of Daisy Daisy, their little girl of eight, who was playing so contentedly on the floor with the presents Santa Claus had just brought her. "Oh, Walter, I can't let Daisy go again!" cried Mrs. Kirke. "Last time she nearly died in the boat, and you know she wasn't really herself for weeks and weeks afterwards."
The two small boys cheered their hearts with paper decorations, but the Christmas Tree was condemned as too German, and it was discovered that Santa Claus had suddenly become Old Father Christmas again. The small boys discovered that the price of lead soldiers had risen, and were unable to buy electric torches, on which they had set their hearts.
I patted myself on the shoulder, and says I, 'Santa Claus, don't you fret if you are growin' old! You may look a little dried up, but your heart isn't wrinkled; O no! You see father Adam and me was very near of an age, but somehow I never growed up! I always thought big folks did very well in their place; but for my part, give me the children. Hurrah for the children!"
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