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"You sure won't be late, popsie?" interrupted the child, looking up with apprehension in her round eyes. "I jest wouldn't care one mite for Sandy Claus if you weren't here too!" "Mebbe I'll git him to give me a lift in his little sleigh! Anyways, I'll be back!" laughed Dave, gaily.
"Say, Hattie, I don't want to butt in, but it don't hurt the child should go riding a little while out by Delmar Garden a man that can handle a car like Leon Kessler. Anyways, it don't pay to hurt the firm's feelings." There was a constant honking now at the curb, and violent throbbing of engine. "But, I.W. " "Popsie darling, I'll be back early. Mamma Hat, please!" "Your mother says yes, baby.
"An' anyways, how do you s'pose Sandy Claus is goin' to find his way, 'way out into these great woods, through all this snow?" "Oh, popsie!" cried the child, excitedly. Then, remembering, she lowered her voice again to a whisper. "Don't you know Sandy Claus kin go anywheres? Snow, an' cold, an' the the the big, black woods they don't bother him one little, teenty mite.
"What's Popsie say?" asked one of the younger members of the party, winking at the barmaid, who, having supplied her customers' needs, was leaning over a copy of the handbill which somebody had laid on the bar. "Whose brass can it be, Popsie?" The barmaid stood up, seized a glass and a cloth, and began to polish the glass with vigor. "What's Popsie say?" she repeated.
He knows where to find me out here, jest's easy's in at the Settlements, popsie!" The mother stirred in her bunk, wakened by the little one's voice. She sat up, shivering, and pulled a red shawl about her shoulders. Her eyes sought Dave's significantly and sympathetically. "Mother's girl must try an' not think so much about Sandy Claus," she pleaded. "I don't want her to go an' be disappointed.
I'll pop it on popsie at breakfast while I'm opening his eggs for him. You come for breakfast, Leon. You're in the family now." He lifted her bodily from her feet, pressing a necklace of kisses round her throat. "Good night, Twinkle-pinkle, till to-morrow." "Good night, darling. I won't sleep a wink, waiting for you." "Me, neither." "One more, darling a French one." "Two for good measure."
"I thought mebbe 'twas Christmis, popsie!" she whispered, catching his fingers. "'T first, I thought mebbe you was Sandy Claus, popsie. Oh, I wish Christmis 'ld hurry up!" A look of pain passed over Dave Patton's face. "Christmas won't be along fer 'most a week yit, sweetie!" he answered, in the soft undertone that took heed of his wife's slumbers.
"He won't have to 'lect the children in the Settlements, will he, popsie?" she cried. And without waiting for an answer, she went on: "He kin be everywheres to oncet, Sandy Claus can. He's so good an' kind, he won't forget one of the little boys an' girls in the Settlements, nor me, out here in the woods. Oh, mumsie, I wisht it was to-night was Christmas Eve!"
But on this occasion he forgot all about the Grey Mare, and Popsie the barmaid did not come into his mind for even a second. He sat at home, his feet on the fender, his eyes fixed on the dying coals in the grate. He thought thought so hard that he forgot that his pipe had gone out. The fire had gone out, too, when he finally rose and retired.
Before Dave could reach it with his axe it was up and away in a panic after its two remaining fellows. Breathing heavily from his effort and from the storm of emotion still surging in his breast, Dave turned to the hut door and called "Lidey! Lidey! Are you there?" "Popsie! Oh, popsie, dear! I thought you weren't goin' to come!" cried a quivering little voice.