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Updated: May 1, 2025
Before the child could reply the door opened a little way and a porter looked out. "Who's there?" he called to the sleigh, rather overlooking the little figure in the snow. "Santa Claus's partner," said Kitty. "What do you want?" He peered out at the sleigh. He was evidently sleepy and a little puzzled. "We don't take in anything at this hour except patients."
And if the man, as the weaker vessel in matters of witchcraft, do come off minus a nose or so, it will never spoil Black Claus's beauty, that's certain. Hark! hark! they are at it again! To it, devil! To it, devil-hunter! Let them fight it out between them, man. Let them fight it out. It's fine sport, and it will never spoil the show."
Santa Claus's sleigh must have been upset in a snow-drift over here, and righted by throwing the cargo overboard, for there is at least a wagon-load of things that can find no room on the tree.
And I wish you many more like it, sir. And when Christmas comes along next time I hope you'll remember me, for I'll remember you; I've had a little child in that 'ere same horspital. God took her to Himself twelve years ago. They're good to 'em there, rich and poor all alike; and 't isn't every night I can drive 'Santa Claus's partner."
He looked as if he were about to shut the door when a woman's voice was heard within speaking to him and the next moment the door was opened wide and he gave way as a matronly figure came forward and stood in the archway. "Who is it?" she asked in a very pleasant voice, looking down at the little figure in the snow before her. "Santa Claus's partner," said Kitty, gazing up at her.
"Mother," said he, "I never knew Santa Claus chewed tobacco." "Well, mebbe he was Santa Claus's hired man," said she. "Might 'a' had the toothache," Paul suggested, for Lew Allen, who worked for them in the summer time, had an habitual toothache, relieved many times a day by chewing tobacco. Tom sat looking into the fire a moment. Then he spoke of a matter Paul and he had discussed secretly.
And Yelpers hurried into the kitchen and washed the dishes, and scrubbed the pots, and polished the egg-stains off the silver spoons, and emptied the ice-box pan. All working hard, they got through very soon, and made Santa Claus's house as clean as any house could be. They fixed the window-shades so that they would all hang level, not just anyhow, as poor Santa had them.
There Kris Kringle, Santa Claus's other self, with snowy beard, and fur coat hoary with the frost of Arctic travel from the land of unfailing snow and unfailing toys, stood beside his tree glittering with crystal and shining with the fruits of every industry and every clime.
Even when he transferred her to her father's arms she did not wake. She only sighed with sweet content and as Livingstone bent over and kissed her softly, muttered a few words about "Santa Claus's partner." A half-hour later, Livingstone, after another interview with Mr. Brown who was awaiting him patiently, drove back again to Mr.
"They slipped into Santa Claus's house quickly and quietly, so no one would see or hear them. The house was in a terrible state, but they set to work to clean up. Groups found the vacuum cleaner and sucked up all the crumbs from the dining-room rug. Bunks ran upstairs and made Santa Claus's bed for him and swept the floors and put clean towels in the bathroom.
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