Speaker 1: Santa Claus and Little Billy by John Kendrick bangs One.
He was only a little bit of a chap and
so when, for the first time in his life he
came into close contact with the endless current of human things,
it was as hard for him to stay put as
for some wayward little atom of flotsam and jetsam to
keep from tossing about in the surging tides of the sea.
His mother had left them there in the big toy shop,
with instructions not to move until she came back while
she went off to do some mysterious errand she thought
no doubt that with so many beautiful things on every side,
to delight his eye and hold his attention, strict obedience
to her commands would not be hard. But alas the
good lady reckoned not upon the magnetic power of attraction
of all those lovely objects in detail. She saw them
only as a mass of wonders, which, in all probability
would so dazzle his vision as to leave him incapable
of movement. But Little Billy was not so indifferent as
all that. When a phonograph at the other end of
the shop began to rattle off melodious tunes and funny jokes.
In spite of the instructions he had received. Off he
pattered as fast as his little legs would carry him
to investigate. After that, forgetful of everything else. Finding himself
caught in the constantly moving stream of Christmas shoppers, he
was borne along in the resistless current until he found
himself at last out upon the street, alone, free and independent.
It was great fun at first, by and bye. However,
the afternoon waned the sun as if anxious to hurry along,
the dawn of Christmas Day sank early to bed, and
the electric lights along the darkening highway began to pop
out here and there, like so many merry stars come
down to earth to celebrate the gladdest time of all
the year. Little Billy began to grow tired, and then
he thought of his mama and tried to find the
shop where he had promised to remain quiet until her return.
Up and down the street he wandered until his little
legs grew weary, But there was no sign of the shop,
nor of the beloved face he was seeking. Once again,
and yet once again, after that did the little fellow
traverse that crowded highway, his tears getting harder and harder
to keep back. And then, joy of joys, whom should
he see walking slowly along the sidewalk but Santa Claus himself.
The saint was strangely decorated with two queer looking boards
with big red letters on them, hung over his back
and chest. But there was still that same kindly gray
bearded face, the red cloak with the fur trimmings, and
the same dear old cap that the children's friend had
always worn in the pictures of him that little Billy
had seen. With a glad cry of happiness. Little Billy
ran to meet the old fell and put his hand
gently into that of the saint. He thought it very
strange that Santa Claus's hand should be so red and
cold and rough and so chapped, but he was not
in any mood to be critical. He had been face
to face with a very disagreeable situation then, when things
had seemed blackest to him, everything had come right again,
and he was too glad to take more than a
passing notice of anything strange and odd. Santa Claus, of course,
would recognize him at once and would know just how
to take him back to his mamma at home, wherever
that might be. Little Billy had never thought to inquire
just where home was. All he knew was that it
was a big gray stone house on a long street somewhere,
with a tall iron railing in front of it, not
far from the park. Had he do, mister, Santa Claus,
said little Billy, as the other's hand unconsciously tightened over
his own. By hot he do, Kitty, replied the old fellow,
glancing down at his new found friend with surprise gleaming
from his deep set eyes. Where did you drop from? Oh?
I'm out, said Little Billy bravely. My mamma left me
a little while ago while she went off about something,
and I guess I got losted, very likely, returned the
old saint with a smile. Little two by four fellows
are apt to get losted when they start in on
their own hook, specially days like these with such crowds
hustling around. But it's all right now, suggested little Billy.
Hopefully I'm found again, ain't i? Ah? Yes, indeedy you've
found all right, kitty. Santa Claus agreed, And pretty soon
you'll take me home again, won't you? Said the child,
sureest thing you know, answered Santa Claus, looking down upon
the bright but tired little face with a comforting smile.
What might your address be, my what, asked Little Billy?
Your address, repeated Santa Claus. Where do you live? The
answer was a ringing peal of childish laughter. As if
you you didn't know that, cried Little Billy, giggling. Ah ha,
laughed Santa Claus. Can't fool you, cat, I It would
be funny if, after keeping an eye on you all
these years, since you was a babby, I didn't know
where you lived. Eh, half funny, agreed Little Billy. But
tell me, mister Santa Claus, what sort of boy do
you think I've been? He added, with a shade of
anxiety in his voice. Pretty good, pretty good, Santa Claus answered,
turning in his steps and walking back again along the
path he had just traveled, which Little Billy thought was
rather a strange thing to do. You've got more white
marks than black ones, a good many more, one hundred
and fifty times as many, Kitty. Fact is, you're all
right way up among the good boys, though once or
twice last summer. You know, yes, I know, said Little Billy, meekly.
But I didn't mean to be naughty. That's just what
I said to the bookkeeper, said Santa Claus, And so
we gave you a gray mark, half white and half black.
That doesn't count either way. Four against you. Thank you, sir,
said Little Billy, much comforted. Don'll mention it. You are
very welcome, kitty, said Santa Claus, giving the youngster's hand
a gentle squeeze. Why do you call me kitty when
you know my name is Little Billy, asked the boy. Ah,
that's what I call our good boys, explained Santa Claus.
You see, we divide them up into two kinds, the
good boys and the naughty boys. And the good boys
we call kitties, and the naughty boys we call caddies,
and they are just Then Little Billy noticed for the
first time the square boards that Santa Claus was wearing.
What are you wearing those boards for, mister Santa Claus,
he asked. If the lad had looked closely enough, he
would have seen a very unhappy look come into the
old man's face, but there was nothing of it in
his answer. All those are my new fangled back and chest.
Protect us, my lad, he replied, Sometimes we have bitter
winds blown at Christmas, and I have to be ready
for them. You wouldn't do for Santa Claus to come
down with the sneezes at Christmas time, you know, no, sir, ree.
This board in front keeps the wind off my chest,
and the one behind keeps me from getting rheumatism in
my back. They are a great protection against the weather.
I'll have to tell my Papa about them, said Little Billy,
much impressed by the simplicity of this arrangement. We have
a glass board in the front of our automobile to
keep the wind off Henry. He's our shuffer. But Papa
wears a fur coat and sometimes hetha the wind goes
right through that. He'll be glad to know about these boards.
I shouldn't wonder, smiled Santa Claus. They aren't very becoming,
but they are mighty useful. You might save up your
pennies and give you Papa a pear like em for
his next Christmas. Santa Claus laughed as he spoke, but
there was a catch in his voice which Little Billy
was too young to notice. You've got letters printed there,
said the boy, peering around in front of his companion
at the lettering on the board. Lord, what did they spell?
You know, I haven't learned to read yet, and why
should you know how to read at your age, said
Santa Claus. You are not more than five last month,
said Little Billy proudly. It was such a great age,
my as old as that, cried Santa Claus. Well you
are growing fast. Why it don't seem more than yesterday
that you was a pink chief to Babby, And here
you are big enough to be out alone. That's more
than my little boy is able to do. Santa Claus
shivered slightly, and Little Billy was surprised to see a
tear glistening in his eye. Why have you got a
little boy, he asked, Yes, little Billy, said the saint,
a poor wife faced little chap about a year older
than you. Who, well, never mind, kiddy, he's a kitty too.
Let's talk about something else, or I'll have bicycles in
my eyes. You didn't tell me what those letters on
the board spell, said Little Billy. Merry Christmas to everybody,
said Santa Claus. I have the words printed there so
that everybody can see them. And if I'm mis wishing
anybody a merry Christmas. You'll know I meant it just
the same. You're awful kind, aren't you, said Little Billy,
squeezing his friend's hand affectionately. It must make you very
happy to be able to be so kind everybody two.
Santa Claus made no reply to this remark, beyond giving
a very deep sigh, which Little Billy chose to believe
was evidence of a great inward content. They walked on
now in silence, for Little Billy was beginning to feel
almost too tired to talk, and Santa Claus seemed to
be thinking of something else. Finally, however, the little fellow spoke,
I guess i'd like to go home now, mister Santa Claus,
he said, I'm tired, and I'm afraid my mamma will
be wondering where I've gone to. That's so, my little man,
said Santa Claus, stopping short in his walk up and
down the block. No mother will be worried, for a fact.
Then your father too. I know how i'd feel if
my little boy got lost it and hadn't come home
at dinner time. I don't believe you know where you
live though, now, honest come fess up, Billy. You don't
know where you live, do you. I guess I do,
said Little Billy. It's in the big graystone house with
the iron fronts in front of it, near the park. Ah,
that's easy enough, laughed Santa Claus nervously. Anybody could say
he lived in a greystone house with a fence around it,
near the park. But you don't know what street it's on,
nor the number either. I'll bet fourteen wooden giraffes against
a monkey on a stick. No, I don't, said Little
Billy frankly, but I know the number in her ordermobile.
It's n y fine, laughed Santa Claus. If you really
were lost, it would be a great help to know that.
But not being lost, as you ain't, why, of course
we can get along without it. It's queer. You don't
know your last name, though I do tourn on my
last name, blurted Billy. It's a Billy. That's the last
one they gave me. Anyhow, Santa Claus reflected for a moment,
eyeing the child anxiously. I don't believe you even know
your papa's name, he said. Yes, I do, said Little
Billy indignantly. His name is mister Harrison. Well you are
a smart little chap, cried Santa Claus, gleefully. You got
it right the very first time, didn't you. I really
didn't think you knew. But I don't believe you know
where your papa keeps his bake shop where he makes
all those nice cakes and cookies you eat well, he
began to laugh again. You can't fool me, mister Santa Claus,
he said, I know my papa don't keep a bake shop,
just as well as you do. My papa owns a
bank splendid made of tin, I suppose, with a nice
little hole at the top to drop pennies into, said
Santa Claus. No it ain't either, retorted Little Billy. It's
made a stone and it has more than a million
windows in it. I went down there with my mama
to Papa's office the other day, so I guess I
outn't know. Well, I should say so, said Santa Claus.
Nobody better. By the way, Billy, what does your mama
call you papa? Billy like you? He added? Oh no, indeed,
returned Little Billy. She calls him papa except once in
a while when he's going away. Then she says goodbye Tom.
Fine again, said Santa Claus, blowing upon his fingers. For
now that the sun had completely disappeared over in the west,
it was getting very cold. Thomas Harrison banker, He muttered
to himself, what with the telephone book in the city directory,
I guess we can find our way home with Little Billy.
Do you think we can go now, mister Santa Claus
asked Little Billy, for the cold was beginning to cut
through his little coat, and the sandman had started to
scatter the sleepy seeds all around. Yes, sir, ree, returned
Santa Claus promptly, right away, off now instantly at once.
I'm afraid I can't get my reindeer here in time
to take us up to the house. But we can
go in the cars. Hum, I don't know whether we
can or not. Come to think of it, Ah, do
you happen to have ten cents in your pocket? Santa
added with an embarrassed air. You see, I've left my
pocket book in the sleigh with my toy pack, And besides,
mine's only toy money. They won't take that on the cars.
I got twenty five cent, said Little Billy. Proudly as
he dug his way down into his pocket and brought
the shining silver piece to light. You can have it
if you want it, Thank you, said Santa Claus, taking
the proffered coin. We'll start home right away, only come
in here first, while I telephoned to Santaville. Tell him
the folks where I am. He led the little fellow
into a public telephone station, where he eagerly scanned the
names in the book. At last it was found Thomas
Harrison seven six five four Plaza. And then, in the
seclusion of the telephone booth, Santa Claus sent the gladdest
of all Christmas messages over the wire to two distracted parents.
I have found your boy wandering in the street. He
is safe and I will bring him home right away.
Three fifteen minutes later there might have been seen the
strange spectacle of a footsore Santa Claus leading a sleepy
little boy up Fifth Avenue to a cross street which
shall be nameless. The boy vainly endeavored to persuade his
companion to come in and meet Mamma Nah Billy. The
old man replied sadly, I must hurry back. You see
Kitty this is my busy day, missires. I never go
into a house except through the chimney. I wouldn't know
how to behave going in at a front door. But
it was not to be as Santa Claus willed for
Little Billy's papa and his mamma, and his brothers and sisters,
and the butler and the housemaids, and two or three
policemen were waiting at the front door when they arrived. Aha,
said one of the police, seizing Santa Claus roughly by
the arm. We've landed yea. All right, where have ye
been with this boy? You let him alone? Cried Little Billy,
with more courage than he had ever expected to show
in the presence of a policeman. He's a friend of mine,
that's right, Officer, said little Billy's father. Let him alone.
I haven't entered any complaints against this man, but you
want to look out for these fellows, mister Harrison, returned
the officer. First thing, you know, they'll be makin a
trade of this sort of thing. I'm no grafter, retorted
Santa Claus indignantly. I found the little chap wandering along
the street, and as soon as I was able to
locate where he lived. I brought him home. That's all
there is to it. He knew where I lived all along,
laughed Little Billy. Only he pretended he didn't, just to
see if I knew. You, See, Sir, said the officer.
It won't do him any harm to let him cool
his heels. It is far better that he should warm them, officer,
said mister Harrison kindly, and he can do that. Here.
Come in, my man, he added, turning to Santa Claus
with a grateful smile. Just for a minute, anyhow, missus
Harrison will wish to thank you for bringing our boy
back to us. We have had a terrible afternoon. That's
all right, sir, said Santa Claus modestly. It wasn't anything, Sir.
I didn't really find him. It was him as found me.
He took me for the real thing, I guess. Nevertheless,
Santa Claus, led by Little Billy's persistent father, went into
the house. Now that the boy could see him in
the full glare of many electric lights, his furs did
not seem the most gorgeous things in the world. When
the flapping front of his red jacket flew open, the
child was surprised to see how ragged was the thin
gray coat it covered. And as for the good old
saint's comfortable stomach, strange to say it was not. I
I wish you all a merry Christmas, faltered Santa Claus.
But I really must be going, sir. Nonsense, cried mister Harrison.
Not until you've got rid of this chill. And I
can't stay, sir, said Santa Claus. I'll lose my job
if I do. Well, what if you do, I'll give
you a better one, said the banker. I can't, I can't,
faltered the man. I I I've got a little billy
of my own at home waiting for me, Sir. If
I hadn't, he added fiercely, do you suppose I'd be
doing this? He pointed at the painted boards and shuddered.
It's him as kept me from from the river, he
muttered hoarsely. And then this dispenser of happiness to so
many millions of people all the world over, sank into
a chair, and, covering his face with his hands, wept
like a child. I guess Santa Claus is tired, Papa,
said little Billy, snuggling up closely to the old fellow
and taking hold of his hand sympathetically. He's been walking
a lot today, Yes, my son, said mister Harrison gravely.
These are very busy times for Santa Claus, and I
guess that as he still has a hard night ahead
of him, James had better ring up Henry and tell
him to bring the car around right away so that
we may take him back to his little boy. We'll
have to lend him a fur coat to keep the
wind off, too, for it is a bitter night, oh,
said Little Billy. I haven't told you about these boards.
He wears he has them to keep the wind off,
and they're fine, Papa. Little Billy pointed to the two
sign boards which Santa Claus had leaned against the wall.
He says he uses them on cold nights. The lad
went on. They have writing on them too. Do you
know what it says, yes, said mister Harrison, glancing at
the boards. It says, if you want a good Christmas
dinner for a quarter, go to Smithers Cafe. Little Billy
roared with laughter. Papa is trying to fool me. This
is you did when you pretended not to know where
I live. Santa Claus, he said, looking up into the
old fellow's face, his own continents brimming over with mirth.
You mustn't think he can't read, though, the lad added hastily,
He's only joking. H No, indeed, I shouldn't have thought that,
replied Santa Claus, smiling through his tears. I've been joking,
have I, said Little Billy's papa. Well, then, mister Billium,
suppose you inform me what it says on those boards.
Merry Christmas to everybody, said Little Billy proudly. I couldn't
read it myself, but he told me what it said.
He hasn't printed there, so that if he misses saying
it to anybody. No, no, he means it just the same.
By jove, mister Santa Claus, cried Little Billy's papa, grasping
the old man warmly by the hand. I owe you
ten million apologies. I haven't believed in you for many
a long year, But now, sir, I take it all pack.
You do exist, and by the great horn spoon, you
are the real thing. Four. Little Billy had the satisfaction
of acting as hosts to Santa Claus at a good,
luscious dinner, which Santa Claus must have enjoyed very much,
because when explaining why he was so hungry, it came
out that the poor old chap had been so busy
all day that he had not had time to get
any lunch, No, not even one of those good dinners
at Smither's Cafe to which Little Billy's father had jokingly referred.
And after dinner, Henry came with the automobile, and bidding
everybody good night, Santa Claus and Little Billy's Papa went
out of the house together. Christmas morning dawned, and Little
Billy awoke from wonderful dreams of rich gifts and of
extraordinary adventures with his new found friend, to find the
reality quite as splendid as the dream things. Later, what
was his delight when a small boy not much older
than himself, a pale, thin, but playful little fellow, arrived
at the house to spend the day with him, bringing
with him a letter from Santa Claus himself. This was
what the letter said. Dear little Billy, you must not
tell anybody except your Papa and ya Mamma, but the
little boy who brings you this letter is my little boy,
and I am going to let you have him for
a playfellow for Christmas Day. Treat him kindly for his
papa's sake, And if you think his papa is worth loving,
tell him so. Do not forget me, little Billy. I
shall see you often in the future, but I doubt
you will see me. I am not going to return
to twenty third Street again, but shall continue my work
in the land of Yule, in the Palace of good Will,
whose beautiful windows look out upon the homes of all
good children. Good Bye, Little Billy, and the happiest of
happy Christmases to you and all of yours, Affectionately, Santa Claus.
When Little Billy's Mamma read this to him that Christmas morning,
a stray little tear ran down her cheek and fell
upon Little Billy's hand. Why what are you crying for, Mamma,
he asked, with happiness, my dear little son. His mother answered,
I was afraid yesterday that I might have lost my
little boy forever. But now you have an extra one
thrown in for Christmas, haven't you, said Little Billy, taking
his new playmate by the hand. The visitor smiled back
at him with a smile so sweet that anybody might
have guessed that he was the son of Santa Claus.
As for the latter, Little Billy has not seen him again.
But down at his father's bank there is a new
messenger named John, who has a voice so like Santa
Claus's voice that whenever Little Billy goes down there in
the motor to ride home at night with his papa,
he runs into the bank and has a long talk
with him, just for the pleasure of pretending that it
is Santa Claus he is talking to. Indeed, the voice
is so like that. Once a sudden and strange idea
flashed across Little Billy's mind. Have you ever been to
twenty third Street? Young, he asked? Twenty third street, replied
the messenger, scratching his head as if very much puzzled.
What's that? Why it's a street, said Little Billy, rather vaguely. Well,
to tell you the truth, Billy said John, I've heard
tell of twenty third Street, and they say it is
a very beautiful and interesting spot. But you know, I
don't get much chance to travel. I've been too busy
all my life to go abroad. Abroad, roared Little Billy,
grinning at John's utterly absurd mistake. Why twenty third stat
ain't abroad, it's uptown near a near twenty second Street, really,
returned John evidently tremendously surprised. Well, well, well, who'd have
thought that. Well, if that's the case, some time when
I get a week off, I'll have to go and
spend my vacation there, From which Little Billy concluded that
his suspicion that John might be Santa Claus in disguise
was entirely without foundation. In fact, end of Santa Claus
and Little Billy by John Kendrick Bangs