Chapter XIV: Part 14

“‘The jeweler was all in a flutter. Never before had he seen such a wonderful carriage. And out of it stepped a very handsomely dressed lady with a lady on either side of her, who both guarded her very carefully.

“‘“The queen—the queen has come to my little shop!” cried the excited jeweler, and all the other shoppers stood by and made low bows.

“‘But I didn’t bow. I didn’t think a crown need bow.

“‘The queen had heard of me, and she had come to buy me. The jeweler, with trembling fingers, fastened me in my little blue velvet box, and off I went, carried by the queen.

“‘When we reached the palace I felt very much at home, for everything was so beautiful there. I must confess, though, that I did feel a little nervous that first evening when I was worn by the queen with so many other exquisite jewels.

“‘Oh, but such times as I did have! The court dinners and balls and receptions were so dazzling, and I adored them. But, best of all, I loved the parades and seeing all the crowds of people cheer and wave their handkerchiefs to the queen. And the bands were so exciting!

“‘But the proudest moment of my life was really when the queen gave me to a young lady as a token of her appreciation of the lady’s brave soldier daddy.’”

NOVEMBER 24: Eagle’s Thanksgiving

“Of course,” said Daddy Bald Eagle, “Thanksgiving Day is a day when the turkey is shown a great honor. But I would like to have something to say for Thanksgiving Day, too. Thanksgiving Day is a day when people are thankful. They are thankful for their homes, thankful for their country, thankful they belong to their country and that they have so many blessings.

“And the Eagle would like to say he is thankful, too.

“Yes, I would like to say how thankful I am that I am chosen as the national emblem of the United States. I would like to say that I shall never cease to be thankful that this honor has been shown to my family.”

NOVEMBER 25: Thanksgiving Day

It was a holiday and it was Thanksgiving Day. From the moment Melly got up she felt in a “holiday” spirit, she said. And everything and every one seemed to feel the same way too.

First she went in quite early in the morning to see her mother who was sitting up in bed, waiting for her little visitor.

Her mother was wearing a dear little blue jacket and a blue cap and was looking so pretty.

She had a nice little chat with her mother and then she went back into her own room to get dressed.

Yes, every one in the house seemed to act and feel as though the day was a holiday as it most certainly was.

And oh, such a Thanksgiving dinner as they had.

First they had corn soup and then they had turkey and many vegetables and then they had apple and celery salad. Next they had two pies to choose from, or to take a piece from each, and they had ice-cream too, and every kind of a nut and piece of fruit was in the fruit dish.

In the center of the table was a little bit of a pumpkin. It was a real pumpkin but it was very, very small.

On top of the pumpkin Melly’s mother had put some tiny carrots and baby potatoes and some little snowberries from the snowberry bush.

They did make the table look so gay and pretty. After dinner Melly and her family played the good old game of “stagecoach.” You know the game?

The different people in the room who are playing the game take the names of the people supposed to be in the stagecoach, such as the driver, the little boy traveler and his mother and so on.

Every time the word stage-coach is mentioned each person playing the game must get up and turn around and the last person who sits down when doing this goes on with the story-telling.

Of course the one who is telling the story must tell all of the trip this imaginary stage-coach took.

And of course the names of all the characters must be mentioned often, for every time a character is mentioned that one who is taking the part of the character must get up and turn around.

So Melly and her family played this in the afternoon.

And when it became dark they lighted the lights and the fire was poked up so that it blazed most beautifully.

They had supper in front of the fire and though each one had said he couldn’t possibly eat another thing after such a dinner, they all managed to eat something.

And when Melly went to bed that night she said: “I believe in Thanksgiving Day! And I have so much to be so thankful for! More, I’m sure, than anybody else has.”

NOVEMBER 26: Thanksgiving Day

“In 1620 as we all well know,” said daddy, “a ‘little band of Pilgrims’ came to this country, brave, fearless souls who had already met with difficulties and were not afraid to face more. They had already tried to cross the Atlantic but their ships had leaked and they had had to go back.

“But they would have nothing to do with such a word as failure—and this is I think in itself an inspiration to all of us when we feel discouraged and as though we were failing in what we were trying to do—and so at last the Mayflower left Plymouth in Devonshire, England, and anchored on the American coast on November twenty-first.

“Here they were going to have freedom, and though the trip had been a terrible one and though there were only a hundred of them all told to keep up each other’s spirits, they did not lose heart.

“They had planned to land on the New Jersey coast, but driven as they had been by gales and storms they found themselves on the Northern shore of Cape Cod, New England. Finally they chose Plymouth for their colony. Then came a terrible winter when over half of their number died, but in the spring those who had lived through the winter still would not use the word failure—and decided to stay on.

“And then, at last, came harvest time, and hope and great thankfulness was in the hearts of these people. So that in the autumn in 1621 they set aside a day in which they gave ‘solemn Thanksgiving to the glorious Hearer of Prayers!’

“The first national celebration of Thanksgiving was in 1789 when George Washington named Thursday, November 26th of that year, as a day to be observed in which to give thanks for the blessings of the year.

“It was Abraham Lincoln who recommended that the last Thursday in November should be observed as a day of Thanksgiving.

“And ever since then it has been observed each year all over the country, and not from time to time in the different states according to whether their governors proclaimed it as such. Formerly that had been the custom.

“So it was Lincoln who gave us this day as a National holiday and day of Thanksgiving for every year. But it was because of that little group of people so many years ago that we have so much for which to be thankful.

“Sometimes it is hard to think that such terrible days followed one after the other, for the country is so big and prosperous and cultivated now. But everything has to be begun. And it seems to me that our present-day joyous Thanksgivings are just what those people, so full of pluck, would have wanted us to have. For people who could be so brave and who could endure so much for what they believed was right, could not help but have hearts full of love and capable of great happiness.”

NOVEMBER 27: Good News

“I’ve been here in the zoo for some time,” said Daddy Buffalo, “and of course I do not keep up very well with the news outside of the zoo.

“But to-day I heard of some news and it was very good news. I will tell all the buffaloes about it. I heard that they were protecting the buffaloes more and more all the time, now.

“I was told that they didn’t go after buffaloes to kill them but that they brought some of them to a zoo and people learned of their ways and of their habits and became interested in them, and others they left quite free. Surely that is good news for buffaloes.”

NOVEMBER 28: The Newsboy’s Dog

The town authorities came to a poor little newsboy who owned a dog and told him they would have to take his dog unless he paid for a dog license. But the little boy hadn’t enough money and he did not know what to do, when some kind people overheard the conversation. They told the men that they had plenty of money and quickly paid for the license of the little brown dog. The boy then almost cried for joy.

So the little dog wagged his tail when his master told him to thank the kind people, for he saw quickly that his master once more was happy.

NOVEMBER 29: The Gun-Metal Watch

“A very rich and spoiled little girl,” said daddy, “owned a gun-metal wrist watch. It kept very bad time, and she had it mended again and again.

“One day she went and had it fixed for the very last time, she said, and several days afterward the watch would not go for more than a half hour at a time. She took it back to the watch mender and was told that the only thing that could be done would be to have new works put in it. She said the watch wasn’t worth that and she was so annoyed that she threw the watch into the first ash can she saw.

“Well, there passed by a very poor little girl. On top of the ash can she spied a paper with funny pictures, and she grabbed the paper out of the ash can, and then, to her amazement, she saw the little watch.

“She ran all the way home to show it to her daddy, for her daddy had often mended watches for people just as favors, as his real business was that of a fruit dealer.

“When her daddy saw it he said:

“‘This watch has been fussed with so much that it is no wonder it refuses to go. I will see that it goes.’ And sure enough he did.

“The watch went beautifully, and the little poor girl wore her gun-metal watch with the greatest pride.

“Every one had to ask her the time, of course, every few minutes so she could look at her watch, and if they didn’t ask her the time often enough she would tell them of her own accord.

“Now, the little rich girl was given a gold watch as a present from her daddy, but it didn’t give half the pleasure that the little gun-metal watch gave the little girl whose very own daddy mended the watch for her.”

NOVEMBER 30: Barnyard Thoughts

“I can celebrate Thanksgiving time,” said the pig, “for I am so thankful I do not live in the city.” And then the pig squealed this song:

“Grunt, grunt,” he said, “I’d think it a pity.
If I were forced to live in the city.
There would be no nice mud in which to dig,
A poor place indeed for a sensible pig!”

“Quack, quack,” said the ducks, “and what is more there’d be no place
to swim,
In the city we’d lose our life I’m sure, and certainly our vim.”

“And,” said the cow, “I agree with you too!
In the city I’d not have the spirit to moo.
There’d be no green meadows and nothing to chew,
Oh, what in the world would a poor cow do?”

And all the animals began singing, and talking, grunting, squealing and quack-quacking.

And all of them said, in their different kinds of ways:

“We’ll never, never leave the farm, we’ll stay here all our days!
We’d hate it in the city where they say it’s crowded so,
We’ll never add to the crowds, we say; to the city we’ll never go!”

“That is a fine chorus, grunt, grunt,” said the pig, “and a fine song of Thanksgiving.”

DECEMBER 1: The Toy-Shop

“Why, here we are again,” said the first toy to the second toy as they looked at each other on a counter in the shop, for they had met before in Santa’s workshop.

“Oh!” continued the first toy. “A child is coming to look at us! Oh, there are ever so many children coming into the shop, and there are grown-ups too, and their voices—oh, aren’t their voices nice! They sound so merry and so happy and as if they loved each other and the whole world.

“I’m being bought, I do believe,” the first toy added.

“Oh, so am I,” said the second toy. “I’m going to be wrapped up.”

“We must be going to be presents from the mothers and daddies of the children as Santa will come to get most of these toys just before Christmas.”

“Good-by,” said the second toy; “merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” said the first toy. “Oh see! How the children are standing outside that window looking at the tree with all our friends upon it!

“Wouldn’t you think the window would break? See their faces right against the window pane.”

And as Santa Claus heard the reports of the pleasure of the children over this year’s toys, he smiled to himself and said:

“That is all I want as a reward for my work!”

DECEMBER 2: A Story of the Fireplace

Jack and Evelyn and daddy were watching the dance which was taking place in the Fireplace. They saw the beautiful costumes the Fire Fairies wore and they saw them blaze and flame and then become quiet. “They’re eating their supper now,” said daddy. “The Fire Fairy cooks have finished everything and now they are all enjoying the goodies.”

But soon the flames began to die down and only a few little flashes of light and fire were seen from time to time.

“Those flashes and flames,” said daddy, “are some of the Fire Fairies who are still wide awake enough to ask the Fire Witches questions. For the Fire Witches tell bedtime tales. Soon the Fairies will be sound, sound asleep. They love to be put to sleep by the Fire Witches.”

The flames died down entirely and only a little smoldering went on in the Fireplace.

“The witches are saying good-night,” said daddy. “Then they too will go to bed. But the ashes that will be left—nice warm ashes—they will be the pleasant dreams that are left behind for the Fire Fairies.”

The fire had gone out! Only some ashes could be seen, but in one corner a few red coals had appeared.

“What are they?” asked the children.

“They’re the King and Queen of the Fireplace and they’ve come to see that their people are all fast asleep. Then they will go to sleep, but they will first whisper a ‘Thank you’ to the Witches who tell the marvelous stories.” And just as daddy said that, the children heard a faint, crackling noise, and then they knew that every creature of the Fireplace had gone to sleep in their warm ashes of pleasant dreams.

DECEMBER 3: The Pig Who Had No Table Manners

“I have a fairy tale to tell you this evening,” said daddy, “of a little pig who left his mother to visit the fox family.

“The foxes, as you know, are very careful about their table manners and also extremely proud and were quite disgusted with little Piggy Look-a-do’s table manners, for instead of saying ‘Thank you,’ he’d just grunt when anything was passed to him. He swallowed his food without chewing it at all. He would reach across the table, and if he couldn’t reach a thing he’d climb on the table, much to the horror of all the other animals. Well, in fact, he behaved so badly that all his other nice mannered playmates simply would not have anything to do with him and just called him ‘pig.’

“Even Br’er B’ar couldn’t like him because of his bad manners, and finally he just had to go out and root in the ground for something to eat. Of course when he did that he ruined his lovely little clothes, his white shoes and trousers became all muddy, and his little speckled coat got very rusty looking.

“Piggy Look-a-do realized that he was losing his good looks, for the little pink nose looked white and his eyes very dull. He was too proud to return home to his mother, so he wandered through the woods trying to find something to eat. Finally he came to an apple orchard belonging to a mountaineer. This was the end of poor Piggy Look-a-do, for the next day he was killed and came on the table, roasted nice and brown, with a big red apple in his mouth, and made a fine feast for the old mountaineer and his family.”

DECEMBER 4: Jimmie’s Airplane

“A little boy named Jimmie,” said daddy, “wanted a toy airplane for a Christmas present.

“Well, Jimmie wrote a letter to Santa Claus not long ago, and he wrote the following:

“‘Please, dear Santa Claus, give me a little toy airplane. For when I’m a big man I want to go up in the air in a real one! I’d love to fly and so I’d like a little airplane which would fly around the room as I’ve seen them do in the store. The store at the second corner after you pass my house has one. It looks like a nice one, too.

“‘Wishing you a Merry Christmas, your loving friend Jimmie.’ And Santa has reserved the airplane for his little friend Jimmie, I’ve heard,” concluded daddy.

DECEMBER 5: The Christmas Dog

“A little girl named Peggy,” said daddy, “wrote a letter to Santa Claus, and this is what she said:

“‘Dear Santa Claus: I would like a rag doll and a doll which
says Mamma and Papa, and can shut her eyes. I also want a book
and a set of paints, and please, dear Santa, bring my mother
and daddy a doggie to guard the house. I want a doggie too,
but mother and daddy also want one, so we could all share one
doggie.

“‘Your affectionate little friend,

“‘PEGGY.

“‘P. S.—Please give my love to your Reindeer and a great deal
of love for you, dear Santa Claus.

“‘PEGGY.’

“She put her letter down by the fireplace and the next morning it was gone, for she had addressed it quite correctly to ‘Mr. Santa Claus, By the Fireplace.’ As he was on the lookout for letters such as these around Christmas time, of course, he got it safely.

“Now Santa Claus loves to get letters. His mail around Christmas time is tremendous. But the more he gets, the more he chuckles and laughs to himself. ‘Oh this is splendid,’ he says, as he opens letter after letter. Days went by and Peggy kept wondering what Santa Claus would bring her for Christmas. She thought of writing him again about the doggie, for her mother and daddy would say so often:

“‘It would be a great protection if we only had a dog. This house is rather far away from the rest, and then we would be safe. Besides, a dog is such a companionable animal and the children would love him.’

“Somehow, she didn’t like to write again to Santa Claus, but just before bedtime each night, she would whisper up the chimney—‘Please, dear Santa Claus, don’t forget the doggie—and the doll, and the paint box—and—and,’ but by this time her mother had led her off, for she would have gone on talking and talking to Santa Claus. And if she had kept on talking and missing her sleep, she would have been too tired to enjoy Christmas Day when it came.

“At last it was Christmas Eve. Again Peggy called up the chimney, and she put her stocking first on one side and then the other. And by her stocking hung four smaller ones, for Peggy’s little sisters and brothers.

“‘Good night, Santa Claus, Merry Christmas. My love to the Reindeer,’ called Peggy for the last time. And the younger children called out too, ‘Good night, Santa Claus, give our love to the Reindeer.’

“And off they all trotted to the land of dreams which they had to pass through before Christmas morning would come.

“The next morning, bright and early, Peggy and her sisters and brothers were up looking at their stockings. Such goodies as they found! Peggy got her rag doll, and a doll who could shut her eyes, and say ‘Mamma, Papa.’ And she got a set of paints and a fine book.

“Her sisters and brothers got the presents they had asked for, and they had such fun over the oranges in their stockings. Several of them were covered with black soot which Santa had dropped coming down the chimney! They loved to think of how Santa Claus had picked out these very oranges himself.

“But when the first excitement was over, Peggy thought to herself, ‘There is no doggie.’ But then she thought Santa Claus was not supposed to get her everything she asked for. So after brushing away a tear which had fallen she began to laugh and play and say, ‘Merry Christmas,’ over and over and over again, to her mother and daddy, her sisters and brothers. But in a moment or two they all thought they heard a whimper outside the front door. ‘I shall see what can be outside,’ said Peggy, with beating heart. She opened the door! And there stood a little white dog, shivering miserably in the cold. ‘I have no home,’ the little dog’s eyes seemed to say, and as Peggy held him closely to her she said, ‘I know Santa Claus sent you here, and I wish you a Merry Christmas! And this is to be your home, Doggie dear!’”

DECEMBER 6: The Pride of Toys

“Oh, I’m so proud,” whispered little brown Teddy Bear.

“You’re no more proud than I am,” said a little white lamb. “Please pinch me—so—and then I will say: ‘Baa-Baa-Baa.’ Ah, that will make some one happy.”

The toys were in Santa Claus’ toy-shop and they were getting very much excited. There were still some to be finished—in fact, there were many to be finished, but none of them were worried, for they knew perfectly well that Santa Claus never left any toys unfinished.

That was the wonderful part of Santa Claus. He could be rushed and hurried and he could be so busy that you wondered how it was possible for him to do so much and you might think, if you didn’t know, that some of those many, many things wouldn’t be done. But the toys knew, for the tools which Santa used to make them with whispered to them many secrets.

“He may be busy,” the tools always told the new toys, “but he’ll finish you and you’ll go to the children on Christmas day.”

“How proud I will be,” whispered the Teddy Bear once more, “if I am put on a tree. They say that Santa hangs toys on Christmas trees. But then I would be just as proud if I were put in a stocking. How I would love to peep my head out from the top of a stocking and see the children as they come downstairs early Christmas morning! In fact, I would be proud no matter where Santa put me, or how he gave me. It’s a great big and wonderful pride to be a toy made by Santa Claus which is given to a child on Christmas day.”

“That is what we all feel,” said the other toys.

DECEMBER 7: Christmas with the Squirrels

“When Christmas day comes all the little squirrels,” said daddy, “meet near the largest tree, which they pick out for the occasion. Then there is a wild scramble up the tree for the branches, where the squirrels perch themselves, and finally the feast begins.

“After they have finished their scrumptious Christmas dinner they play ‘tag,’ ‘hide-and-seek’ and many other games, which make the branches wave around as they jump from one tree to the other. Prizes are offered by the older squirrels for the sports and games which are played. The prizes are usually extraordinarily big nuts or very red apples. Sometimes, too, kind children just before Christmas put nuts in the trees where the squirrels can find them. That makes the squirrels very happy, and they call these nuts their Christmas gifts.”

DECEMBER 8: How to Address Santa

“Where is Santa’s home,” asked Evelyn, “for we must know where to write him?”

“He lives way up North,” answered daddy, “but any letter directed to ‘Mr. Santa Claus, the Chimney,’ will reach him, for he has special reindeer collecting his letters from the tops of chimneys several weeks before Christmas. You must put them on the hearth, and on the envelope you must put a speck of soot, for that is the stamp you use for the letters which go to Santa Claus Land.”

DECEMBER 9: A Letter to Santa Claus and the Answer

“I saw such a poor little boy to-day,” began daddy to Jack and Evelyn. “He was looking in a shop window where there were loads of toys, and as he looked great, huge tears dropped from his eyes and trickled down his face.

“I spoke to him and asked him where he lived, and for a moment he couldn’t speak, but between sobs he began to tell me of his life. He was very ragged and quite dirty.

“He told me his daddy had died in the summer and that a few months afterward his mother had married a horrid, cruel man who hated him and called him ‘little nuisance.’ The stepfather didn’t like to work, and as soon as he had used up his wife’s savings he told the little boy he would have to beg or steal his food, for he wouldn’t be bothered with him.

“The little boy said that he had always had a happy home, a good warm fire and plenty to eat when he came home from school, and he simply would not beg or steal. One night he came home, of course bringing nothing. His stepfather saw he could neither make him beg nor steal so he forced him to leave the house. His mother was so afraid of his stepfather that she did not say a word. Now, he had been away from home for two weeks. He spent his nights with a little school friend, but he could not stay there much longer, as the boy’s parents were so poor they could hardly keep their children. He dreaded the cold, but what he felt more than anything was that Santa Claus did not know where he was and that he would have no Christmas.”

“Let’s write Santa a letter right away,” said Evelyn, “and tell him about the little boy. What’s his name, daddy?”

“His name is Harry Armstrong, and tell Santa to bring his presents here, for I’ve told him he can do odd chores for us and stay here for a while.”

So Evelyn wrote: “Dear Santa—A poor little boy named Harry Armstrong is afraid he’ll have no Christmas. So please, dear Santa, send him a warm suit, an overcoat, a sled, some skates and lots of candy. Your loving Evelyn.”

Jack and Evelyn had just gone to bed when daddy walked into their room with a note and a stamp of soot on it. Evelyn hurriedly opened it and read aloud: “Dear Evelyn—I won’t forget about Harry Armstrong on Christmas, and you were very dear to think of some one else who wanted a Christmas. Your friend, Santa Claus.”

“Hurrah!” shouted Jack and Evelyn together.

DECEMBER 10: Betty’s Dream

“Oh, mother, I had such a dream,” said a little girl named Betty. “I dreamt I saw Santa Claus in his shop. Oh, he was the most beautiful old man I ever saw in all my life—and oh, mother, his eyes! How they laughed. And he was making—think, mother—he was making a rag doll! The very sort of a doll I hope he will give me for Christmas and he was smiling at the doll. And I saw the whole shop and all the toys—and everything. Oh, I hope Santa brings me a rag doll.”

Now the Dream King had sent this dream to Betty, and it was as real as a dream can be. But it was absolutely real that Santa Claus was making a rag doll and that that rag doll was going to be found Christmas morning in Betty’s stocking, for the Dream King had told Santa Claus it was what she wanted and that was why Santa Claus had smiled so—because he knew how the dolly was going to please Betty!

DECEMBER 11: The Snow Man

“The Brownies and Gnomes thought it would be a fine scheme to make a snow man,” said daddy. “Billie Brownie made his feet first of all, and so they made him on up until his head was all ready.

“Then, of course, he had to have a hat, and Peter Gnome made him a very handsome high one.

“‘We have forgotten something,’ said Billie Brownie.

“‘What?’ they all asked.

“‘A pipe for his mouth,’ said Billie.

“‘To be sure,’ said Peter Gnome. ‘A snow man isn’t a real snow man without a pipe. We’ll make it right away.’

“So they got some twigs and some wood, and with their little pen knives they all made pipes. The very best pipe of all was chosen for the snow man, while the other pipes they put around on the ground beside him.

“‘For,’ said Peter Gnome, ‘he ought to have a little collection of pipes.’

“He was the tallest snow man ever made and he looked so jolly and happy. He reached so far up that when it grew dark Mr. Moon came out and said:

“‘What is it I see? A man who is almost tall enough to talk to me. What fun!’

“And how he grinned when he found out the man had been made of snow!”

DECEMBER 12: Sharpy and Chappy

Sharpy, the squirrel, with his friend Chappy were watching some children as they filled bags with candies and nuts. “We want to make a noise so they will notice us,” said Sharpy.

“Perhaps they won’t like us,” said Chappy. “And some don’t enjoy noise.”

“They look as if they liked it,” shrieked Sharpy. “Listen to the children. I don’t believe they will hear us.”

But then Chappy and Sharpy began to scamper over the porch and as they shrieked at each other, sometimes as if they were scolding and sometimes as if they were laughing, the children shouted, “Oh, there are two squirrels!”

Sharpy and Chappy looked their very best, or tried to, standing on their hind legs and looking very sweet and cunning as they begged. Their little mouths were moving all the time as if they were quite ready. “We have quantities of nuts to-day,” said the children, “as we’re getting our Christmas presents ready. Isn’t that fine?” And I can assure you that Sharpy and Chappy thought it was fine, too, as they were given all the nuts they could eat.

DECEMBER 13: Christmas Letters

“Still the letters keep coming,” chuckled Santa Claus. “And every year it seems to me as though I received a larger mail than I ever had before.

“But it can never be too large for Santa Claus.

“And the precious dears! What memories they have. They know just what they want! They don’t forget!

“They think old Santa remembers too when they have told him one thing and then just add a little postscript or another letter without explaining to him just what their last letter was about.

“They think he can remember and keep them all straight, even though he may get several letters from the same child in many, many cases.

“They think he can remember their names from year to year, and they’re right. Yes, the blessed little dears are right.” And Santa Claus chuckled to himself as he stroked his beard and by the burning coals of the great stove in his workshop he read the letters which had just come.

“Dear Santa Claus,” was the beginning of every one, or at least almost every one, though some of them began, “Dear, dear Santa Claus,” and “You precious old Santa Claus,” and a number of other nice beginnings like that, which made Santa Claus very happy.

But every letter made him happy, for every letter was just a little different and he liked all the children to be different and not to be just alike.

“I hope you remember me,” one read, “for I wrote to you last year and the year before. The year before that I was too young to write, but my brudder wrote for me? Do you remember my brudder’s letter that he wrote that year? He said that he guessed the next year I could write you a letter, for I could then write my name.

“And my brudder was right and the next year I did write you a letter.”

Some of the spelling wasn’t just like this, but this is the way it sounded as Santa Claus read it aloud. He was all by himself, except that his collie dog, Boy of the North, was sitting by him on the floor, but he read it aloud, for he loved to hear the sound of the words the children had written and picture them as they looked while writing.

And he didn’t care about the spelling.

“Of course,” he said to himself, “they must go to school and learn how to spell, for they would feel dreadfully when they grew up if they didn’t know more than they do now!

“But when they’re writing to Santa Claus it doesn’t make so much difference. They can take a little holiday then. And even when they make a blot and then write down by it that it is a kiss I know that they do mean to send a kiss to me, even if the blot itself was accidental!

“Well, I must go on with this letter.”

He went on with the letter and this was what he read:

“My brudder won a gold medal in school the other day. He is getting to be so smart, dear Santa, and I know you’ll be pleased to hear it. You sent me a picture once Santa when I was very little of a boy who was very cold on his way to school with his coat all wrapped up tight around him.

“In school he won the gold medal. It was the day they gave the prizes, and coming home from school the picture showed the boy with his coat open wide, and the gold medal pinned on, and he didn’t feel the cold the least bit!

“Do you ’member, Santa Claus? Brudder was like that the other day.”

Yes, he remembered that picture and how pleased he was to think the boy, a boy he had always liked so much, had won a gold medal.

And on he read the letters. Some were letters just full of news of what they all were doing in the different homes, of what they were going to do, and in some they wrote of the new sisters or brothers who had come since Santa Claus had last been written to.

Of course they told him what presents they wanted and they all said they hoped he wouldn’t get too tired, and they all, every single one of them, told him how they loved him and wished him a Merry Christmas, too.

And that made Santa Claus so very, very happy.

DECEMBER 14: Candy Toys

“We’re all ready for a great day called Christmas,” said the candy cane.

“Yes,” said the candy lion, “and I’m so sweet I couldn’t be cross, yet I’ve heard real lions often are very wild and angry.”

“When we’re being eaten,” said the candy elephant, “it’s perfectly glorious, for we’re so much appreciated. Some children say that they love hard candy better than any other kind. Other children will take bites of us and will smack their lips joyously. All this I’ve heard from Santa. Oh, the lives of candy toys are very exciting. We belong to the best time of the year, and how the children will love us!”

DECEMBER 15: Santa’s Gifts

Santa was sitting in his workshop. He was making a lovely doll with curly hair and blue eyes, and his dog, Boy of the North, was sitting close to his chair with his head against Santa’s knee.

“Last Christmas,” said Santa, “I was at a house where there were three little girls, and oh, Boy of the North, they were such nice little girls!

“They were really lovely, and so good! Of course they were asleep, but no matter, Boy of the North, you needn’t laugh; they were good children I can tell you. Even if mothers and daddies may say children are bad at times I only say, ‘Well, what child isn’t bad sometimes?’ It wouldn’t upset old Santa for he knows they’re doing their best and trying their best.

“But, as I said, these children were such nice little girls.

“They were asleep, as I told you, when I saw them. They slept in three little white beds and each had her hair in two beautiful braids.

“I filled their stockings and I said to myself, ‘You are a nice collection of youngsters for any mother and any father to be proud of! Dear me! But I’m proud to be old Santa Claus and to have the honor of filling your Christmas stockings.’

“Then I went downstairs where there was a tree and I started a-trimming of the tree. They had left some things for me to use. Some people are kind that way about leaving many of the nice decorations which can be used every Christmas. It saves me room in my pack and I like to see the same old decorations coming out year after year.

“But I saw something else there, too. I saw a present, a gift for me.

“I looked down at it, and saw that it was addressed to me and that it said, ‘To Santa Claus, with love from Helen.’ And I saw that it had another little note inside which said, ‘Dear Santa, I made this myself, so please forgive mistakes.’

“It was a pincushion, Boy of the North, and I have it in my room now. You may have noticed it.”

Boy of the North wagged his tail.

“Well, I was pleased and I wrote Helen a note thanking her, but really, Boy of the North, I mean this quite truly, I don’t care about getting presents. I like to feel I’m one person who gives gifts but who doesn’t receive gifts, for I have all my thanks in the smiles of children.”

DECEMBER 16: The Gray Rabbit

A little girl was looking in a shop window.

“Mother,” she said, “what I want is that adorable gray felt rabbit with the big ears, and the blue ribbon around his neck. Oh, I could love him and love him for—for always!” And her mother wrote a note to Santa and told him this and Santa said to himself, “She shall have the little gray felt rabbit to love.”

DECEMBER 17: Santa Claus and Teddy

“One year Santa was very, very busy, and so he sent a note to the mothers and fathers in a certain town telling them that he was so rushed he would have to leave his presents some time before Christmas, and that he would, of course, stop off a little while Christmas Eve to fill all the stockings and trim the trees.

“In one house lived a little boy named Teddy. His daddy told him that Santa had left some of his presents ahead of time, but that he had especially said that he did not wish the little boy to look in any of the closets and put him on his honor not to, for if he should look Santa had said he would take away the presents.

“The little boy had asked Santa Claus for a horse and cart, which he wanted more than anything in the world.

“Several days went by, and the little boy resisted the temptation of looking to see if the horse and cart had come. But one day he could stand it no longer, so when every one was out he looked into all the closets, and in the last one he saw the long wished for horse and cart. Such a beauty as it was too! The horse had a mane and a tail of real hair, and the cart was painted a bright red. Oh, how delighted the little boy was, and he closed the closet door and went back to his play-room very happy.

“As no one had seen him look into the closet, the next day he thought he would take another look. What was his horror to find that the horse and cart had disappeared, and no sign of it was anywhere to be found. He cried himself to sleep, so ashamed did he feel.

“The next morning he decided to write to Santa Claus. So he said,

“‘Dear Santa Claus—I know I was a naughty boy and looked when I was told not to. Please forgive me and give me back the horse and cart and I will never be a bad boy again.’

“He put this note up the chimney, and the very next morning he found this lovely answer:

“‘Dear Teddy—I am sure you are sorry, and am certain you will never do such a thing again. So on Christmas morning when you get up you will find the horse and cart awaiting you. Your old friend, Santa Claus.’”

DECEMBER 18: Blue Sky and Sun

“Where are you going—all dressed up?” asked the Blue Sky of Mr. Sun.

“I am going to a coasting party,” he said.

“And pray tell me, how can you go to a coasting party?” asked the Blue Sky as a smile in the shape of a little silver cloud came over it.

“And why not?” asked Mr. Sun.

“I’d hardly say,” continued the Blue Sky, “that coasting was exactly one of your talents. No, not exactly. Now confess! You can’t coast. So why do you go to a coasting party? It would be as funny as if the Blue Sky went a-skating.”

“Ah, but don’t you see?” said Mr. Sun.

“Just because you’re so extremely bright there is no reason why you need think you’re the only one who sees. I can see perfectly, thank you, and on a clear day like this I’m at my best.”

“But you don’t see—truly—” persisted Mr. Sun.

“Then explain to me how you can go to a coasting party,” said the Blue Sky.

“There! That’s something like! Now that you’ve asked me the necessary question I can tell you my story.”

“Must you always have the necessary question, Mr. Sun?”

“Always,” replied Mr. Sun.

“Well continue,” said the Blue Sky.

“It’s this way,” said Mr. Sun. “You see there are many children in the world.”

“That isn’t news to me, Mr. Sun.”

“I’m only telling it to you to begin with.”

“Begin with something I don’t know,” said the Blue Sky.

“How do you suppose I can tell just what you know and what you don’t? I never went to your school.”

“Oh well,” said the Blue Sky frowning a little, while three small clouds came over it, “go on with your story any way you please.”

“Thank you,” said Mr. Sun. “Some of these children are giving a coasting party this afternoon, and what do you suppose they said?”

“I’ve no idea,” said the Blue Sky. “I don’t see how any one could guess. Children are apt to say so many different things. They seem to know so many words and games and stories and all sorts of things.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Sun, “they’re bright little things, that’s true.”

“You talk about them, Mr. Sun, as if they were Stars. Bright little things indeed! How funny you are!”

“Well they are little and they are bright, aren’t they?”

“Very well,” said the Blue Sky. “Do go on with your story.”

“I don’t get half a chance,” said Mr. Sun looking a little dull for a moment.

“I won’t say another word,” said the Blue Sky.

“And these children said, ‘We do hope Mr. Sun will come to our coasting party.’ Now then! I was asked to come by the children. A great honor—and I’m going. Yes, I’m going to shine with might and main over that party. They’ll keep so warm! They’ll have such a good time, and they’ll be so glad that they asked me!”

“I don’t think it’s such an honor,” said the Blue Sky, “for they’re just making use of you.”

“I like to be useful,” said Mr. Sun.

Now just at that moment the children appeared for their coasting party. “Oh see the bright Sun,” they exclaimed. “We wished for the Sun and here he is. Such fun as we’ll have now.”

And then one of them added, “And the Sky is all blue—it’s a wonderful day!”

“Run away, Clouds,” said the Blue Sky. “These children like me too.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed Mr. Sun. “So you will do as the children ask, eh?” And the whole big face of the Blue Sky was without a cloud or a frown!

And the children had a Blue Sky and the Sun for their party.

DECEMBER 19: Christmas Time Joy

“Ba-a-a, Ba-a-a, Ba-a-a,” said the lamb Santa had just finished making, as he gave it a little squeeze.

“Fine!” exclaimed Santa Claus. “That’s right.”

“Suppose,” whispered the lamb, “the child who gets me wouldn’t know where to look, or where to press, what then? She’d never know I could make those sounds.”

“She’ll find out, never fear,” said Santa Claus.

And the lamb smiled its little toy smile for it knew Santa Claus always spoke the truth. And that night the stars all over the world seemed brighter as they looked down upon the Earth for they knew of the joy so soon to come in so many thousands and thousands of homes.

DECEMBER 20: Santa in Eskimo Land

“It was a Christmas morning, and Santa hadn’t come,” said daddy. “The little Eskimaux who live so far up north had been too excited to sleep.

“Finally one of the daddy Eskimaux said: ‘I’m afraid something must have happened to Santa Claus. The storm last night was so wild. Let’s get some of the dogs and sleds.’ So a number of the bigger boys and some of the men began to get ready. They bundled up so much that all you could see was their eyes. The storm had let up, but the snowdrifts were like mountains. They had just started when a tinkling of bells was heard, and what should they see but eight beautiful reindeer and old Santa Claus dressed in a red suit with great big furs. On his back was a huge bag which was almost overflowing, so full was it.

“‘Merry Christmas, Santa Claus!’ shrieked all the little Eskimaux.

“‘Merry Christmas to you all!’ said Santa, and the reindeer shook their heads and tinkled their bells, which was their way of saying ‘Merry Christmas.’

“Poor Santa’s mustache and eyebrows were frozen, and his face was very, very red from the cold. But, oh, it was so jolly for them actually to have Santa with them! They had never before been awake when he had come even though his visit to them was always his last.

“As soon as he had warmed his hands and had seen to the feeding of his reindeer and patted them for their bravery he undid his pack. And such a Christmas as they all did have!

“‘You know,’ said Santa, ‘I’m glad there was such a storm, for this is my very first Christmas party!’”

DECEMBER 21: Santa’s Toy-Shop

“I think the children will have a pretty good Christmas this year,” chuckled Santa Claus to himself, as he looked over his toy-shop, and the reindeer knew from Santa’s chuckles that soon they would be starting off.

DECEMBER 22: A White Christmas

The snowflakes saw Santa as he was making ready for his journey and some of them danced on his great red coat and sat for a few minutes on his white beard and his white eyebrows.

“Hello, snowflakes, glad to see you,” said Santa Claus. “So King Snow has allowed you to be the honored ones to give us a white Christmas?”

The snowflakes danced about and some of them peeped in windows and saw great, tall trees ready to be trimmed. And they saw sleeping children. When the next morning came all the children shouted, “Oh, it snowed during the night! And we will have a white Christmas.” Then how happy the snowflakes were.

DECEMBER 23: The Tree and the Stockings

“I am getting so excited I can hardly wait,” said the Christmas tree. “The daddy of the children brought me to the house because he said it would be a great help to Santa Claus to have me all ready.

“I know Santa Claus will give me the most beautiful of decorations, for I’ve often heard my family talk of the wonderful Christmas trees there have been. Ah, how handsome many of my relations have looked, and I can hardly wait until Santa Claus comes to see me.”

“You’re not any more excited than we are,” said three stockings which hung up by the side of the mantel-piece.

“I belong to Dot, age four,” said the white stocking.

“I am hanging up for Jimmie, age eight,” said the tan stocking.

“And I am for Betty, age six,” said the black stocking.

“I’m for all of them,” said the Christmas tree.

“That’s so,” agreed the stockings. “But even if we’re not for all of them, but each stocking for one child, we’re just as excited as we can be.”

“Have you ever been here before?” asked the tree.

“Yes, we’re used every Christmas. We’re kept just for Christmas. That’s all we do all the year. We’re put up the night before, on Christmas Eve, and down we come on Christmas morning, but between then and Christmas morning the most wonderful things happen! Ah!” and the stockings waved a little as they talked of their evening and morning of pleasure.

“It’s far better than being around all the time and getting worn out. We’re very fortunate stockings!”

“You are indeed,” said the Christmas tree. “But for my part I am willing to be around for one season of the year and to have a glorious time then. Oh dear, I am so excited! I can hardly wait!”

“Patience, dear tree,” said the stockings. “Santa Claus will soon be here.”

“You don’t think he will lose his way,” said the tree. “I never heard of his losing his way from any of my relations. But perhaps he might forget about this house.”

“Santa Claus forget a house where there are children! Dear me, tree, but you don’t know Santa Claus. He never, never forgets! He’s Santa Claus—and that’s reason enough why we won’t be forgotten.”

DECEMBER 24: The Two Little Mice’s Christmas Eve Party

“A little mouse had heard when he was hiding in holes in the corners of the rooms that all the little boys and girls in the world once a year had a Christmas tree full of goodies,” said daddy. “A dear old person named Santa Claus trimmed the tree for them and filled the stockings which they hung up by the fireplaces.

“The little mouse didn’t see why he shouldn’t have a Christmas, too, so he told another little mouse what he had heard. Together they planned what they would do. They would bore two little holes into the parlor where they had heard the tree was to be. There they stayed every night, keeping very quiet. They heard the children talk about what they hoped Santa Claus would bring them and saw them constantly send notes up the chimney to him.

“Of course the mice had to keep very quiet, as they didn’t want to let the children know they were there, and with a great deal of self denial they stayed out of the pantry, living for their very own Christmas party.

“At last Christmas Eve came. They saw the children in their little nighties hang up their stockings by the fireplace and then trot off to bed.

“Before long the mice heard strange noises on the roof, and then a little soot began to fall down the chimney. Soon they saw a jolly old man appear, with white hair and a white beard, from the chimney, and they nudged each other, whispering, ‘That must be Santa Claus.’