How Santa Claus came by William O. Stoddard now don said Rad Burnell dolefully.
Do you believe any kind of a snow storm could stop Santa Claus from
coming? Well, yes, that's it. I heard father tell mother he
couldn't get here in time, and I know he meant something about Christmas by
the way he looked at Pettish and Molly was Berry there. She was sound
asleep in the cradle, And mother said, Berry won't care, but it'll
be at this point for the rest of em It's an awful snow storm,
Rad, But I guess Santa Claus will come for all of that. Just
a little later, mister Burnell said to his wife, I'm sorry we didn't
get our things in the village, Maria, but it's too late. Now.
Don't say anything to the children. It'll be bad enough when it comes.
Nobody else heard him, but Missus Burnell looked as if she wanted to
cry. That was one of the whitest nights anybody in the world ever saw,
for the snow had thrown the thickest kind of a white blanket over everything.
Some of the roads were drifted level from fence to fence, and the
railroads were having a tremendous time of it. Anything so black as a locomotive
could hardly feel at home pushing its way along through so white a country,
or into so white a village as Middleville was that Christmas Eve. It was
a dreadfully long night, and Pettish woke up three times and tried to make
herself believe it was morning. The last time she heard the great clock in
the academy steeple on the village green, pounding away at its task of telling
what time it was. I'll count, said Pettish, nine twelve seven,
fourteen fifteen six. I guess it's most time to get up, must be
it's Christmas now. Just then she heard a noise in the next room,
and she listened with all her ears. First it was a rustle, and
then the loudest kind of a whisper, loud enough to have been heard in
daytime. Rad Rad, it's just struck five. Let's take a scoop downstairs
and see about it. We can hurry right back again. They're pulling on
their stockings, said Pettish. I'll get up and pull on mine, but
I won't let them see me. She tried very hard to get up without
waking Molly, but it was of no use, for Molly's sleep had been
begun at the right time and was fairly over now, considering that it was
Christmas morning. Oh, Pettish, what are you going to do? Sh
sh, Molly? The boys are going downstairs to look, and I'm going
too. Lie still. But Molly was two years older than Pettish, and
she wouldn't lie still. She was out on the floor in a twinkling and
she made Pettish wrap herself all up in a blanket, and she pretty nearly
buried her own chubby shape and are comfortable. That was about what Rad and
Don had done already, and they were now carefully creeping down stairs in the
dark. The door of the front parlor was nearest the foot of the stairs,
and the boys left it open after them when they went in, but
Molly and Pettish closed it very softly and carefully the moment they were safe in
the dim, gloomy parlor. The boys were just beyond the folding doors at
that moment and did not see that they were followed. Berry was sound asleep
in her crib, within reach of her mother, or she would have heard
her say just then, Oh John, it's a dreadful disappointment. What will
those poor children do poor Pettish, said mister Burnell. We can explain it
to the boys and they can wait, and to Molly, but it'll be
bad enough for any of em. But Pettish would break her little heart if
she finds that Santa Claus hasn't come. It'll be almost as much of a
disappointment to Aunt Sally and Frank. I hope they'll bring mid with them when
they come, of course they will. Now that had been a very long,
white, beautiful dark night, and a great many queer things had happened
in it. They are sure to in any night before Christmas. But there
had been a wonderfully deep snow storm away on toward morning. Just when the
Academy clock was trying to make sound asleep, people hear that it was really
four, a tired out and frosty looking railway train came, smoking and coughing
up to the platform at the Village railway station. It did not stop long,
but some people got out of one of the sleeping cars, and some
baggage was tumbled out of the baggage car, and a sleepy man with a
lantern, said yes, sir, carriage your in a minute, sir,
all right, we don't want any carriage, My man, take our checks
and have our trunks brought over to mister Burnett's before seven o'clock. We'll walk
right there. Now, come, Sallie, Come along Mid Frank, Husband,
you'll drop some of those things. No, I won't, Sallie.
Mid My dear boy, look out for that box. It's only pasteboard.
I'll be careful, mother. I ain't a wait yet. But it takes
all three of us to Santa Claus this pile. Hope it isn't far.
The cold, frosty air was fast getting Mid wide awake, and they did
look, all three of them, as if they were have done better with
a sleigh and a good team of reindeer. The distance was short, but
Aunt Sallie talked pretty nearly all the way. We must do it, Frank,
she said, as they drew near the gate, I'm sure they've given
us up. We can get in. There never was any bolt on the
kitchen window over the pump. Middleton can climb right in and come and open
the side door for us. Oh, but won't that be fun? Exclaimed
Mid as he hurried silently forward. Sh there, Sallie, whispered Uncle Frank.
As he and his portly, merry faced wife lugged their bundles. After
Mid, it was less than half a minute before they were in the kitchen.
They promptly shut the door between the dining room that was the sitting room
too, and the back parlor. And then how they did work. Plenty
of wood and shavings and kindlings were dying in front of the great Franklin stove
in the dining room, and there was quickly a blazing fire there and in
the kitchen too, and Mid insisted on lighting every lamp and candle he could
lay his hands on. Then the bundles came open, and their contents began
to shine all around the chimney and over the mantel, and even on some
of the chairs. It's too bad we haven't any of their stockings, began
Aunt Sally. But she exclaimed the next instant, Oh, Frank, here's
Maria's work basket, all full of stockings. I know. Then those are
dons. There's a pair of rads, Molly's pettish, Berri's the dear little
kitten. We've got em, mother, let's set the table. That's it.
You help him do it? Father, won't we give em a surprise?
It was wonderful how those three did work and not make any noise about
it, and how they did change the looks of that dining room and kitchen
before five o'clock. Aunt Sallie even put on the tea kettle and made some
coffee. And it was evident that, for once Santa Claus was disposed to
be very much at home. If they had not been drinking their coffee,
perhaps they might have heard a voice not many minutes after five o'clock whispering anxiously
to somebody in the back parlor. I say, there's a light coming through
the keyhole. There's a rattle too in there. Burglars pooh, no,
it's Christmas. Oh boys, is Santa claud was really in there? Has
he got here? Is that? You pettish? And Molly too? Keep
still. I'm just going to open the door a little mite of a crack,
but you can all peek in. Aunt Sannie's ears must have been good
ones, for carefully has done opened that door? And faint, as was
the squeak it made, she sprang suddenly toward it, is that you.
Maria. Hush, don't make a sound, not a loud noise for anything.
We won't. Aunt Sallie, hush. Even pettysh did just as she
was told for once, for she was a little scared when the great blaze
of light came shining through the door. As Aunt Sallie pushed it wide open,
it was shut again the moment they were all in the room, And
then it was all Aunt Sallie and Uncle Frank could do to keep up any
kind of silence in that merry assembly. They could not have done it at
all if Aunt Sallie had not told them all it's a great secret. You
must help us give Papa and Mamma a big surprise. Now, let's get
breakfast for them. Biddy went away yesterday morning, said Molly, but I
know where the eggs are. Whatever She and Pettish could not find, Don
and Rad could, and Aunt Sallie was the best kind of a cook.
It was nearly six o'clock when Missus Burnell said to her husband, I'm glad
Berry waked up. She's all dressed now, and I can wrap her up
warm. So am I, my dear. I'll go right down with you.
Those poor children. I haven't the heart to look at them. Let's
hurry down. So they did, and Berry went down in her mother's arms.
But they little dreamed what was coming. A great shout welcomed them as
they opened the door of the dining room. Wish you merry Christmas, oh,
Sallie, Frank, I am so glad. But how did you get
in? Breakfast's ready? Christmas has come. Nobody could have described that next
half hour to have saved his life, and Aunt Sallie said she had never
been so happy in all hers. Molly said, Pettish, won't you go
upstairs and bring down all their clothes? Yes, children said their mother.
You must get dressed. Yes, And mother said Pettish. There was only
two pairs of my stockings in the basket, and they're both full. If
molly'll bring the pair I had on, there's more than enough to fill em.
So there was. For Aunt Sallie had not only bought and brought everything
mister and missus Burnell had written to her about, but she had heaped on
a huge assortment of presents on her own account, and Pettish had at least
her share. While Uncle Frank had looked out for Molly, and nobody had
forgotten Berry or any of the boys. It was quite the usual time when
they got ready to eat at last. But there was nothing of what Rad
and Pettish called a dispoint in any face at that reckfas Santa Claus had come.
End of How Santa Claus Came by William O. Stoddard