"Come, children," she whispered, rousing them; "here is Santa
Claus."
They scrambled down, rubbing their eyes. Polly took the hands of
the two small boys and led them near him. Paul drew his hand away
and stood spellbound, eyes and mouth open. He watched every motion
of the good Saint, who had come to that chair that held the little
stockings. Santa Claus put a pair of boots on it. They were
copper-toed, with gorgeous front pieces of red morocco at the top
of the leg. Then, as if he had some relish of a joke, he took them
up, looked them over thoughtfully, and put them in the sack again,
whereupon the boy Paul burst into tears. Old Santa Claus, shaking
with silent laughter, replaced them in the chair quickly,
As if to lighten the boy's heart he opened a box and took out a
mouth-organ. He held it so the light sparkled on its shiny side.
Then he put his pipe in his pocket and began to dance and play
lively music. Step and tune quickened. The bulky figure was
flying up and down above a great clatter of big boots, his head
wagging to keep time. The oldest children were laughing, and the
boy Paul, he began to smile in the midst of a great sob that shook
him to the toes.
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