Tommy Trot's Visit to Santa Claus Part 4

Tommy was about to ask, "How did he know we were coming?" but before he could get the words out, the little man said, "Oh, he knows all that boys do, especially about Christmas time. That's his business."

"My!" thought Tommy, "I shall have to mind what I even think up here.

He answers just as if I had said it. I hope he knows what I want for Christmas."

"Wait and see," said the little man; and Tommy, though he was glad to hear it, determined not to think any more just then, but he was sorry he had not thought to wish for more things while he was wis.h.i.+ng.

"Oh, don't worry about that," said the guard. "Santa Claus doesn't care much what you ask for for yourself. Even if he gives those things, you soon get tired of them or lose them or break them up. It is the things one asks for for others that he gives pleasure with.

That's the reason he has such a good time himself, because he gives all the things to others."

Tommy tried to think what he had ever given to any one. He had given pieces of candy and cake when he had plenty, but the sled was the only thing he had ever really given. He was about to mention this when the guard mentioned it for him.

"Oh, that sled was all right," he said, with a little nod. "Come in,"

and the great ice-doors opened before them, and in they walked.

They pa.s.sed through a great hall, all ice, as transparent as gla.s.s, though curiously it was warm and dry and filled with every kind of Christmas "things:"--everything that Tommy had ever seen, and a myriad more that he had never dreamed of. They were packed and stacked on either side, and a lot of little people, like those he had already seen, were working among them, tossing them about and shouting to each other with glee to "Look out," just as the boys did when coasting on the hill.

"I tell you," said one, "the Governor will have a busy time to-night.

It beats last Christmas." And he made a run and a jump, and lit on a big pile of bundles which suddenly toppled over with him and nearly buried him as he sprawled on the slippery floor. This seemed a huge joke to all the others and they screamed with laughter at "Old Smartie," as they called him, and poured more bundles down on him, just as though they were having a pillow-fight. Then when Old Smartie had at last gotten on his feet, they had a great game of tag among the piles and over them, and the first thing Tommy knew he and Johnny were at it as hard as anybody. He was very proud because Johnny could jump over piles as high as the best of them. Tommy, himself, however, could not jump; for they led him to a pile so high that he could not see over it; and on top were the fragments of all the things he had ever had and had broken up. He could not help crying a little; but just then in dashed a number of little men and gathering them up, rushed out with them. Tommy was wondering what they were going to do with them, when his friend, the guard, said: "We mend some of them; and some we keep to remind you with. Now try again." Tommy tried and did very well, only his left foot had gone to sleep in the sled and had not quite waked up.

"That was because Sate went to sleep on it," said his friend, the guard, and Tommy wondered how he knew Sate's name.

"Why," said the guard, "we have to know dogs' names to keep them from barking at us and waking everybody up. Let me lend you these boots,"

and with that he kicked off his boots. "Now, jump," and Tommy gave a jump and lit in them, as he sometimes did in his father's shoes. No sooner had Tommy put them on than he found that he could jump over the highest pile in the room.

"Look, look!" cried several of the others. "The captain has lent that little boy his 'Seven Leaguers.'"

"I know where he is going," said one; "to jump over the North Pole."

"No," laughed another. "He is going to catch the cow that 'jumped over the moon,' for Johnny Stout's mother."

Just then a message came that "Old Santa," as they called him, was waiting to see the two boys who had come in the new box-sled, as he wanted to know how their mothers were and what they wished for Christmas. So there was a great scurrying to get their heads brushed before the bell rang again, and Tommy got soap in his eyes wetting the brush to make his hair lie smooth, while Johnny's left shoe came off and dropped in a hole in the floor. Smartie, however, told him that that was for the "Old Woman who lived in a shoe" to feed her cow in, and this was considered a great joke.

The next minute the door opened and they entered a great apartment, filled with the softest light from a blazing fire, and Tommy was sure it was his father's back before him at the fireplace; but when the man turned it was Santa Claus, only he did not have on his whiskers, and looked ever so much younger than in his pictures. At first he did not even look at them, he was so busy receiving mail that came fluttering down the chimney in a perfect snowstorm. As the letters came he gathered them up and handed them to a lady who was seated on the floor, saying, "Put that in," to which the lady always answered, "Just the thing," in a voice so like his mother's that Tommy felt quite at home. He was just wondering when "Sometime" would come, when Santa Claus picked up a letter, which had been thrown on the floor, and tossed it to the lady, saying, "Here's that letter from that little boy, Tommy Trot. Put some of those things in so he can break them up.

He asked only for himself and much joy he will get out of them." Tommy shrank back behind Johnny. He wanted to say that he had written another letter to ask for things for others, but he had lost his tongue. Just then, however, Santa Claus put up his hand and pulled out another letter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Look, Look! The captain has lent that little boy his 'Seven Leaguers.'"]

"Now," he said, as he glanced at it, "this is more like it. He is improving. I see he has asked for a lot of things for a friend of his named Johnny. Johnny Stout--who is he? It seems to me I hardly remember him or where he lives."

"Yes," said Johnny, stepping up. "That's me. He gave me a sled, too, and he made it himself." Santa Claus turned and looked at him and his expression turned to a smile; in fact, Tommy thought he really winked at Johnny.

"Oh, I know that sled. It was a pretty good sled, too," he said.

This gave Tommy courage, and he stepped forward and said, "He lives in a little bit of a house near our place--just that way--" He turned and pointed. "I'll show it to you when you come."

"Good," said Santa Claus. "I'll show it to you and you show it to me.

We are apt to overlook those little houses. So you are Tommy Trot?" he said. "Glad to see you," and he turned and held out his hand to Tommy.

"I sent my reindeer to fetch you and I am glad you made that sled, for it is only a sled made for others that can get up here. You see, everything here, except the North Pole, is made for some one else, and that's the reason we have such a good time up here. If you like, I'll take you around and show you and Johnny our shops." This was exactly what Tommy wanted, so he thanked him politely.

"I'll be back in a little while," said Santa Claus to the lady, "for as soon as the boys are all asleep I must set out. I have a great many stockings to fill this year. See that everything is ready. Come along, boys," and next minute they were going through room after room and shop after shop, filled with so many things that Tommy could not keep them straight in his mind. He wondered how any one could have thought of so many things, except his mother, of course; she always thought of everything for everyone. Some of them he wished for, but every time he thought of wanting a thing for himself the lights got dim, so that he stopped thinking about himself at all, and turned to speak to Johnny, but he was gone.

Presently Santa Claus said: "These are just my stores. Now we will go and see where some of these things are made." He gave a whistle, and the next second up dashed a sled with a team of reindeer in it, and who was there holding the reins but Johnny, with his little cap perched on the top of his head! At Tommy's surprise Santa Claus gave a laugh that made him shake all over like a bowl full of jelly, quite as Tommy had read he did in a poem he had learned the Christmas before, called "The Night Before Christmas, when all through the house."

"That comes of knowing how to drive goats," said Santa Claus. "Johnny knows a lot and I am going to give him a job, because he works so hard," and with that Tommy's boots suddenly jumped him into the sled, and Santa Claus stepped in behind him and pulled up a big robe over them.

"Here goes," he said, and at the word they turned the corner, and there was a gate of ice that looked like the mirrored doors in Tommy's mother's room, which opened before them, and they dashed along between great piles of things, throwing them on both sides like snow from a sled-runner, and before Tommy knew it they were gliding along a road, which Tommy felt he had seen somewhere before, though he could not remember where. The houses on the roadside did not seem to have any front-walls at all, and everywhere the people within were working like beavers; some sewing, some cutting out, some sawing and hammering, all making something, all laughing or smiling. They were mostly dressed like grown-up people, but when they turned their faces they all looked young. Tommy was wondering why this was, when Santa Claus said that was because they were "Working for others. They grow young every Christmas. This is Christmas Land and Kindness Town." They turned another corner and were whisking by a little house, inside of which was some one sewing for dear life on a jacket. Tommy knew the place by the little backyard.

"Stop, stop!" he cried, pointing. "That's Johnny's home and that's Johnny's mother sewing. She's laughing. I expect she's making that for Johnny."

"Where?" asked Santa Claus, turning. Tommy pointed back, "There, there!" but they had whisked around a corner.

"I was so busy looking at that big house that I did not see it," said Santa Claus.

"That's our house," said Tommy. "I tell you what," he said presently, "if I get anything--I'll give him some." Santa Claus smiled.

So they dashed along, making all sorts of turns and curves, through streets lined with shops full of Christmas things and thronged with people hurrying along with their arms full of bundles; out again into the open; by little houses half buried in snow, with a light s.h.i.+ning dimly through their upper windows; on through forests of Christmas trees, hung with toys and not yet lighted, and presently in a wink were again at Santa Claus's home, in a great hall. All along the sides were cases filled with all sorts of toys, guns, uniforms, sleds, skates, snow-shoes, fur gloves, fur coats, books, toy-dogs, ponies, goats, cows, everything.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

III

Tommy was just thinking how he would love to carry his mother a polar bearskin for his father, and his father a sealskin coat for his mother, when Santa Claus came up behind him and tweaked his ear.

"Ah!" he said, "so you want something--something you can't get?"

"Not for myself," said Tommy, shamefacedly.

"So," said Santa Claus, with a look much like Tommy's father when he was pleased. "I know that. They don't have them exactly about here.

The teddy-bears drove them out. You have to go away off to find them."

He waved his hand to show how far off it was.

"I should like to hunt them, if I only had a gun!" said Tommy;--"and one for Johnny, too," he added quickly.

Santa Claus winked again. "Well," he said slowly, just as Tommy's father always did when Tommy asked for something and he was considering--"well, I'll think about it." He walked up and touched a spring, and the gla.s.s door flew open. "Try these guns," he said; and Tommy tipped up and took one out. It, however, seemed a little light to shoot polar bears with and he put it back and took another. That, however, was rather heavy.

"Try this," said Santa Claus, handing him one, and it was the very thing. "Load right; aim right; and shoot right," said he, "and you'll get your prize every time. And, above all, stand your ground."

"Now, if I only had some dogs!" thought Tommy, looking around at a case full of all sorts of animals; ponies and cows; and dogs and cats; some big, some little, and some middle-sized. "I wish those were real dogs."

"Where's Sate?" asked Santa Claus.

"Sate can't pull a sled," said Tommy. "He's too little. Besides, he ain't an Eskimo dog--I mean he isn't," he corrected quickly, seeing Santa Claus look at him. "But he's awful bad after cats." Just then, to his horror, he saw Sate in the show-case with his eye on a big, white cat. He could hardly keep from crying out; but he called to him very quietly, "Come here, come here, Sate. Don't you hear me, sir?