Part 28

“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.’