Speaker 1: The Errors of Santa Claus by Stephen Leacock. It was
Christmas Eve. The Browns, who lived in the adjoining house
had been dining with the Joneses. Brown and Jones were
sitting over wine and walnuts at the table. The others
had gone upstairs. What are you giving to your boy
for Christmas? Asked Brown? A train, said Jones. New kind
of thing automatic. Let's have a look at it, said Brown.
Jones fetched a parcel from the sideboard and began unwrapping it.
Ingenious thing, isn't it, he said, goes on its own rails. Queer,
How kids loved to play with trains, isn't it? Yes,
assented browne. How are the rails fixed? Wait, I'll show you,
said Jones. Just help me to shove these dinner things
aside and roll back the cloth. There. See you lay
the rails like that and fasten them at the ends.
So oh, yes, I catch on? Makes a grade, doesn't it?
Just the thing to amuse a child, isn't it. I
got Willie a toy aeroplane. I know they're great. I
got Edwin one on his birthday, but I thought i'd
get him a train this time. I told him Santa
Claus was going to bring him something altogether new this time. Edwin,
of course, believes in Santa Claus. Absolutely. Say look at
this locomotive, would you. It has a spring coiled up
inside the firebox. Wind her up, said Brown with great interest.
Let's see her go all right, said Jones. Just pile
up two or three plates or something to lean the
end of the rails on there. Notice the way it
buzzes before it starts. Isn't that a great thing for
a kid? Eh? Yes, said Brown? And say see this
little string to pull the whistle by, get it toots eh,
just like real now. Then Brown Jones went on, you
hitch on those cars and I'll start her. I'll be engineer. Eh.
Half an hour later, Brown and Jones were still playing
trains on the dining room table, but their wives upstairs
in the drawing room hardly noticed their absence. They were
too much interested. Oh, I think it's perfectly sweet, said
missus Brown. Just the loveliest doll I've seen in years.
I must get one like it for Olvina. Won't Chlorice
be perfectly enchanted, yes, answered missus Jones. And then she'll
have all the fun of arranging the dresses. Children love
that so much. Look, there are three little dresses with
the doll. Aren't they cute? All cut out and ready
to stitch together? Oh? How perfectly lovely, exclaimed Missus Brown.
I think the mauve one would suit the doll best,
don't you with such golden hair? Only, don't you think
it would make it much nicer to turn back the
collar so and to put a little band? So? What
a good idea, said Missus Jones. Do let's try it.
Just wait, I'll get a needle. In a minute, I'll
tell Clarice that Santa Claus sewed it himself. The child
believes in Santa Claus absolutely, And half an hour later,
Missus Jones and Missus Brown were so busy stitching dolls
clothes that they could not hear the roaring of the
little train up and down the dining table, and had
no idea what the four children were doing. Nor did
the children miss their mothers. Dandy, aren't they? Edwin Jones
was saying, too, Little Willie Brown as they sat in
Edwin's bedroom. A hundred in a box with cork tips
and sea an amber mouthpiece that fits into a little
case at the side good present for dad, eh fine,
said Willie appreciatively. I'm giving father cigars. I know I
thought of cigars too. Men always like cigars and cigarettes.
You can't go wrong on them. Say what do you
like to try one or two of these cigarettes? We
can take them from the bottom. You'll like them. They're
Russian away ahead of Egyptian, thanks, answered Willie. I'd like
one immensely. I only started smoking last spring, on my
twelfth birthday. I think a feller's a fool to begin
smoking cigarettes too soon, don't you it? Stunts him. I
waited till I was twelve. Me too, said Edwin, as
they lighted their cigarettes. In fact, I wouldn't buy them
now if it weren't for Dad. I simply had to
give him something from Santa Claus. He believes in Santa
Claus absolutely, you know. And while this was going on,
Clorice was showing little Olvina the absolutely lovely little bridge
set that she had got for her mother. Aren't these
markers perfectly charming? Said Alvina. And don't you love this
little Dutch design? Or is it Flemish? Darling Dutch? Said Clarice.
Isn't it quaint? And aren't these the dearest little things
for putting the money in? When you I needn't have
got them with it, they'd have sold the rest separately.
But I think it's too utterly slow playing without money,
don't you, oh abominably, shuddered Olvina. But your mamma never
plays for money, does she, Mamma? Oh, gracious no, Mama's
far too slow for that. But I shall tell her
that Santa Claus insisted on putting in the little money boxes.
I suppose she believes in Santa Claus, just as my
mamma does. Oh absolutely, said Clarisse, and added, what if
we play a little game with a double dummy the
French way or Norwegian scat if you like? That? Only
needs too all right, agreed Olvina, and in a few
minutes they were deep in a game of cards, with
a little pile of pocket money beside them. About half
an hour later, all the members of the two families
were again in the drawing room, but of course nobody
said anything about the presence. In any case, they were
all too busy looking at the beautiful big bible with
maps in it, that the Joneses had brought to give
to Grandfather. They all agreed that with the help of it,
Grandfather could hunt up any place in Palestine in a moment,
day or night. But upstairs, away, upstairs, in a sitting
room of his own, Grandfather Jones was looking with an
affectionate eye at the presence that stood beside him. There
was a beautiful whisky decanter with silver filigree outside and
whiskey inside. For Jones, and for the little boy a
big nickel plated Jew's harp. Later on, far in the night,
the person, or the influence, or whatever it is called
Santa Claus, took all the presence and placed them in
the people's stockings. And being blind as he always has been,
he gave the wrong things to the wrong people. In fact,
he gave them just as indicated above. But the next day,
in the course of Christmas morning, the situation straightened itself out,
just as it always does. Indeed, by ten o'clock, Brown,
Eh and Jones were playing with the train, and Missus
Brown and Missus Jones were making dolls clothes, and the
boys were smoking cigarettes, and Clarice and Olvina were playing
cards for their pocket money. And upstairs, away up Grandfather
was drinking whiskey and playing the Jew's harp, and so Christmas,
just as it always does, turned out all right after all.
End of the Errors of Santa Claus by Stephen Leacock