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Then Claus warmed milk and fed it to the boy slowly, while the cat looked on with sober curiosity. Finally the little one curled up in his friend's arms and sighed and fell asleep, and Claus, filled with gladness that he had found the wanderer, held him closely while he slumbered. The wind, finding no more mischief to do, climbed the hill and swept on toward the north.
"And Santa Claus isn't shooting with any toy gun, this time," chuckled Chunky. "Can you see the camp, to know if anyone is there?" "Yes, but only part of it, Professor. I wish you would all get over into the right hand corner there and lie flat on the floor. I'm going to try to draw their fire so that I can locate them.
So Little Claus climbed to the roof of the shed, and while he turned himself to get comfortable, he discovered that the wooden shutters, which were closed, did not reach to the tops of the windows of the farmhouse, so that he could see into a room, in which a large table was laid out with wine, roast meat, and a splendid fish.
"One story at a time is my rule, you know." "But I want to sit up till Mother comes home," objected Jimmy. "You can't. She may be very late, for she would have to wait to see Mr. Porter. Besides, you don't know what time Santa Claus might come if he comes at all. If he were to drive along and see you children up instead of being sound asleep in bed, he might go right on and never call at all."
"Come," he coaxed, "jest supposin' we was youngsters again, a-tellin' Santa Claus what we wanted. What would you ask for?" Lydia Ann laughed. Her cheeks grew pink, and the lost spirit of her youth sent a sudden sparkle to her eyes. "You'd laugh, dearie. I ain't a-goin' ter tell." "I won't 'pon honor!" "But it's so silly," faltered Lydia Ann, her cheeks a deeper pink. "Me an old woman!"
The scene with the baby mermaid, when she swims with the pretty creature on her back, is irresistible. Why are our managers so mechanical? Why do they flatten out at the moment the fancy of the tiniest reader of fairy-tales begins to be alive? Most of Annette's support were stage dummies. Neptune was a lame Santa Claus with cotton whiskers.
For Georgie's "Santa Claus" was her brother, the brother who had run away from her home so long ago to seek his fortune in the Klondike; whose letter, written in San Francisco and posted in Omaha, had reached her the month before; whom the police of several cities were looking for at her behest. "Auntie!" cried Emily again. Thankful shook her head. "Help me to a chair, Emily," she begged weakly.
Some of the clothes had fallen, and there were funny-looking girls picking them up, and packing them in trunks and boxes. 'These are all ripe, said Santa Claus, stopping to shake a tree, and the clothes came tumbling down so fast that the workers were busier than ever. The grove was on a hill, so that we had a beautiful view of the country.
"Farewell," said Little Claus, as he went off with his money and the great chest, in which the sexton lay still concealed. On one side of the forest was a broad, deep river, the water flowed so rapidly that very few were able to swim against the stream.
"Helloa there, children!" cried Uncle Lucky, while Billy Bunny honked the horn. "Don't you want some lollypops?" And in about five hundred short seconds there wasn't a lollypop left in that big box, and Uncle Lucky was a hero, or a Santa Claus, I don't remember which. And then one big boy said, "Let's give three cheers for the two rabbits and one more for the Luckymobile."
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