Speaker 1: Looking for Santa Claus. One. On Christmas Eve, towards nightfall,
Johnnie 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 Griham was washing the dishes. Halloa,
cried Johnny, 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 too. Mamma asked Minnie forthwith. At
the mother's nod, the two 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 telegram, cries Johnny, and it's marked immediate, adds Minnie.
Mister Graham, who had been fondly stroking his favorite racer,
hurried from the stall and tore 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 Bennie, catching
her father's right hand, while Johnny is 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've sent him word that I've put the
Christmas tree in the hayloft so that he won't make
the mistake of coming to our house. Tomorrow, when you
and Minnie wake up, you may run over to the
stable and you'll find out that Santa Claus can get
through the stoutest store in Kansas even though it has
the strongest kind of a lock. Ant. Papa said Minnie.
What time does 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 jest one
more time to night? Papa chimed in Minnie, of course,
Well good bye, 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 whinny to night?
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 in for Santa Claus,
asked Johnny. I think not, Minnie answered, it might hurt
his feelings. Johnny locked the door. Ooh, 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 Winny stall and climbing to
the manger. She'll be company for us, which Winnie gave
a little nigh of joy when she felt the hands
of her two dearest little friends caressing her. Then there
was an unbroken silence. One minute passed, though Johnny thought
it in 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 Wennie gave another nigh of joy. Why
even our horse is glad that Santa Claus is coming,
whispered Johnny. Sh hissed Missy. 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 Winnie answered by a low, joyful neigh, Ah,
there she is, mothered the man under his breath. Johnny
could stand it no longer. Hullo Ah, Sandy Coss, he
cried in nervous tones. The man gave a start, and
then raising his pistol, at full cock threw the glare
of the lantern full upon which Winnie 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 Johnnie on the other.
Both of them looked 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 the same
as she looks at Papa. Oh, I'm awful glad to
see you, Santi. But where is your pack? It's outside?
Do you little ones expect any presents? Of course we do,
answered Minnie. This little boy is Johnnie, and I am Minnie.
Papa told us you were coming to night, so he
still over to see you. Come in. Well, little ones,
said Santa Claus in a rather stern voice. It's against
my rolls to allow any one to see me at work. Now,
if you want to get all the very nicest presents.
You must make me a promise. All right, san any class,
cried Johnny. You must go right back to the house
and go to sleep, and not say another word till
sunrise tomorrow. Now do you promise? Cross my heart? Cried
the boy. And so shall I promise, added 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 jest 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 little child led him, led him to the other
side of the stable into a vacant stall. Striking a match,
Minnie lighted a lumber 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 Jane 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 Mannie
sinking to her knees, while from the little platform which
support of 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 strains, 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 a moment's pause, 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 the grand manner of a living faith. Before they
had ended, Santa Claus threw his pistol before the shrine
as an offering. He was done with it. Would you
like to kiss the infant, asked Mannie, 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,
you darlings. God bless you, and forgive me. With the
last words, he was rushing for the door, where he
disappeared as though he had not been while nearer, louder,
clearer came the tramping of the horse. The children hurried
to the door and looked in vain for a sight
of Santa Claus. Even as they were stinging their eyes
into the darkness, there dashed up a horseman upon a
foaming charger. Why it's Papa, cried Minnie. Merry Christmas, Papa,
An we've seen Santa Claus. Ain't he ran away when
he heard you coming? Is which? Winny? All right, cried
mister Graham, jumping from his horse. Sure, answered Johnny, and
supplemented by Minnie, he proceeded to tell their knight's adventures.
Mister Graham listened with his features under a forced restraint.
It's too bad, Papa, that you frightened Santy 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 in sea. And they went up and saw
it was the finest Christmas tree in Chansas, and every
gift that Minnie and Johnny 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 Johnny 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 stable as
a horse thief, had remained in Santa Claus and left
it touched and softened and repentant to 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 Jay