Looking for Santa Claus. One. On Christmas Eve, towards nightfall, Johnny
Graham and his sister Minnie were curled upon the floor near the kitchen stove,
looking over the pictures in an old magazine. Little Minnie was explaining the pictures
to her brother. The Kansas wind was howling about the house and driving the
snow high against the window panes. Without all was darkness, save for the
few lights to the west, where lay the village of Saint Mars. At
a table beside the children, Missus Gramm was washing the dishes. Halloa,
cried Johnnie, jumping to his feet. I hear some one a coming,
and he rushed eagerly to the door. The sound of feet shuffling through the
snow was followed by an impatient knock. Johnny threw open the door and found
himself facing a man with a telegram in his hand. It's for your father
and immediate, and with these words, the messenger disappeared into the darkness.
I hope it is not bad news, said Missus Graham. May I run
to the stable and bring it to Papa, cries Johnny, Yes, dear,
and may I go to Mamma, asked Minnie forthwith of the mother's nod,
but too good, tripping through the snow, and soon reached the stable,
a stout structure distant a stone throws from the house. There are four
horses in it, one of them which Winnie, is the finest horse in
the West. Mister Graham is a lover of horses, Papa. Here's a
telegram, cries Johnny, and it's marked immediate, adds Minnie. Mister Graham,
who had been fondly stroking his favorite racer, hurried from the stall into
here, open the enclosure. His face changed as he read these words.
Topeka, Kansas. Your sister is dying and calls for you not an hour,
despair, John Talbot, Is it something bad? Papa asked Minnie,
catching her father's right hand, while Johnny, saying nothing but looking no less
sympathetic, takes the other. Yes, your auntie is very sick, and
I've just about three quarters of an hour to get ready and take the train.
Come, little ones, we must tell mother at once. Surely it
never rains, but it pours, exclaimed missus Graham on hearing the news.
Yesterday, poor John was called away to the side of his dying mother in
Kansas City. John was their man of all work, a steady, faithful
young fellow who, after his love for each and every one of the Grahams,
was devoted heart and soul to the horses. I don't like to leave
you alone on any night, my dear, said mister Graham, but especially
on Christmas night. But you must go to Annie's side. And besides,
I'm not afraid. Everything is secure. We've lived here now for over two
years and nothing has gone wrong. And Papa, if you go, do
you think Santa Claus will come? Asked Johnny anxiously. Why. Of course,
I sent him word that I put the Christmas tree in the hay loft
so that he won't make the mistake of coming to our house. Tomorrow,
when you and Minnie wake up, you may run it over to the stable
and you'll find out that Santa Claus can get through the stoutest door in Kansas,
even though it has the strongest kind of a lock. And Papa said,
Minnie, what time to Santa Claus come? Oh? About twelve o'clock.
Half an hour later, mister Graham was kissing them all. Farewell.
Papa, May I keep the key of the stable, asked Johnny, here
it is. Don't lose it, my little man, and may we go
over and see which Winnie? Just one more time? To night? Papa
chimed in Minnie, of course, Well goodbye, dear and God bless you
two. Johnny had been sleeping for some hours in his little cot when Minnie
tiptoed into the room. Johnny, she whispered at his ear. The child
turned uneasily. Johnny, she whispered again. What's the matter? Is it
Christmas? Oh Johnny, she continued, as the boy sat up in bed.
It's just eleven o'clock. I want to go to sleep. Go away,
said the brother, lying down again. But wouldn't you like to see
Santa Claus? What? Cried the lad, leaping out of his bed.
You know, Papa said he would come about midnight. I haven't been able
to sleep for thinking of it. Let us go over to the stable and
keep perfectly quiet, and maybe we shall see him. We doesn't go,
said Johnny, Yes we may go, answered Minnie. Don't you remember that
I asked Papa to go over and see which Minnie tonight? That's so.
A few minutes later, two little forms glided over the snow unlocked the door
and slipped into the stable. Shall we leave the door up and for Santa
Claus, asked Johnny. I think not, Minnie answered, it might hurt
his feelings. Johnny locked the door. Oh it's dark in here, I'm
afraid, sh cried Minnie. I have matches, dear, and we can
light the candles if we wish. But then Santa Claus might see that you
and I were watching for him, and then maybe he would be displeased.
Come let us get in, which Whinnie stall and climb into the manger.
She'll be company for us, which Whinnie gave a little neigh of joy when
she felt the hands of her two dearest little friends cressing her. Then there
was an unbroken silence. One minute passed, though Johnny thought it an hour,
when a stealthy step was her without He's coming, cried Minnie, breathing
quickly. The steps ceased at the door. Then there came a low whistle
at the sound, which Winnie gave another neigh of joy. Why even our
horses, guy, the Santa Claus is coming, whispered Johnny. Sh Hissmacy.
For a minute or two, there was a fumbling at the lock.
I think I'll go and help Sannie, whispered Johnny. Maybe he's not used
to that kind of a lock. He was about to leap from the manger
to carry out his purpose. When the lock turned, the door opened,
and in the light afforded by a lantern in his hand, they saw a
man standing in the doorway. He was wrapped in a heavy coat, encrusted
by snow, and so far resembled the pictures of Santa Claus. He wore
a beard, too, but it was black. There was no pack upon
his shoulders, no smile on his face, and one hand was a lantern
and the other a pistol. He was frowning, too, and did not
look at all jolly. Johnny's heart sank. In fact, he began to
doubt whether it was Santa Claus. The man stood still for one moment and
then whistled as before, which Whinnie answered by a low, joyful neigh.
Ah, there she is, mothered the man under his breath. Johnny could
stand it no longer. Hello, Ah, Santy class, he cried in
nervous tones. The man gave a start, and then raising his pistolit full
cock, threw the glare of the lantern full upon which Whinnie and the two
little ones. It was a pretty picture. The mayor, standing with her
superb head turned eagerly toward the newcomer, Minnie clasping her on one side and
Johnny on the other. Both of them look fearlessly at the man with a
cock pistol. Aren't you Santa Claus, cried Minnie. The stranger lowered his
pistol in advance. Yes, my little ones, he said, I am
Santa Claus. I knew it, cried Johnny, even which Winnie knows it.
See how glad she is to see you. Why she looks at you
just as same as she looks at Papa. Oh, I'm awful glad to
see you, Santie. But where is your pack? It's outside? Do
you little ones expect any presents? Of course we do, answered Minnie.
This little boy's Johnny, and I am Minnie. Papa told us you were
coming tonight, so he's still over to see you. Come in, well,
little ones, said Santa Claus in the ryther stern voice. It's against
my rolls to allow anyone to see me at work. Now, if you
want to get a lot of the very nicest presents, you must make me
a promise. All right, any Claus, cried Johnny. You must go
right back to the house and go to sleep, and not say another word
till sunrise tomorrow. Nor do you promise cross my heart, cried the boy.
And so shall I promise? Cared at Minnie. But first, dear
Santa Claus, I want you to do me a favor. Papa told us
that you came in place of the Infant Jesus. Is that so, yes,
said Santa Claus, coughing uneasily and putting away his pistol as though he
were ashamed of it. Well, we know how much you must love the
little infant, and I thought that you would like to take a look at
the crib which Papa fixed up for us. There are twenty candles, and
the little infant is just lovely. Come on, Santa Claus, here's my
hand. Santa Claus shivered as a child put her confiding hand in his.
He was in a great hurry, but a little child led him, led
him to the other side of the stable into a vacant stall. Striking a
match, Minnie lated a number colored candles, revealing a beautiful wax figure of
the child Jesus lying with folded arms upon a small square platform, hardly more
than an inch in thickness. Auntie Chain was over in Paris, explained Minnie,
and she brought this for us. Isn't it sweet? It is?
Said the man, upon whose brow a faint moisture had broken out. Now,
Santa Claus, I know you want to kneel down and pray, Johnny,
and I always do. Santa Claus knelt. He bowed his head and
did not see what Minnie was doing. Suddenly he gave a start, and
looking up, saw Minnie sinking to her knees, while from the little platform
which supported the figure came a sweet, tinkling Christmas melody. It was the
atoms Noel, and he shivered again, and the moisture upon his forehead gathered
into beads as he listened to the sweetly sad strings, look, whispered Minnie.
Suddenly the wax and infant opened its sweet blue eyes. All the tiny,
sweet waxen arms uncrossed themselves and were extended, as though they wouldn't fold
the whole world in their warm, loving embrace. Isn't it beautiful? Whispered
Johnny in a tone that was a prayer. Then the arm slowly folded again,
and the sweet blue eyes were again curtained by the lovely lids. Jesus
was asleep. After moments paused. The tinkle of the a dusty for dailies
made the silence. Lovely. Let us sing for Santa Claus, whispered Johnny.
At the word. Both broke into the glad notes of the Christmas hymn
and sang with the sweetness of fresh and touching voices, with a grand manner
of a living faith. Before they had ended, Santa Claus threw his pistol
before the shine as an offering. He was done with it. Would you
like to kiss? The infant, asked Minnie, I dare not, He
answered hoarsely. There was a faint sound in the distance, as of a
horse galloping at full speed. God bless you, you darlings, God bless
you, and forgive me. With the last words, he was rushing through
the door, where he disappeared as though he had not been while nearer,
louder, clearer came the tramping of the horse. The children hurried through the
door and looked in vain for a sight of Santa Claus. Even as they
were standing their eyes into the darkness there dashed up a horseman upon a flaming
charger. Why it's Papa, cried Minnie. Merry Christmas, Papa, and
we've seen Santa Claus. Ain't he ran away when he heard you coming?
Is which Whinnie? All right? Cried mister Graham, jumping from his horse.
Sure, answered Johnny, and supplemented by Minnie, he proceeded to tell
their night's adventures. Mister Graham listened with his features under a forced restraint.
It's too bad, Papa, that you frightened Santi away. He didn't bring
our Christmas presents yet, said Minnie, when Johnny had concluded his account.
Yes, he did come up, my little ones and sea and they went
up and saw it was the finest Christmas tree in Kansas, and every gift
that Minnie and Johnnie could desire was there. Now, my little darlings,
let us go down to the crib and thank the little infant. And they
went down and, kneeling thanked the little infant, Minnie and Johnnie for their
beautiful Christmas gifts and their father for the safety of which Winnie from the clutches
of her former groom, who had forged two telegrams who had entered the stair
boy as a horse thief, had remained in Santa Claus and left it touched
and softened and repented through the sweet visions of innocence and love which the infant
Jesus had there vouchsafed him, and of looking for Santa Claus. By Francis
J. Finn S Ja