Ted [jumps up, and stands off a little way]. Wow! Wha—wha—— Who are you?
Brownie [folds his arms and looks contemptuously down on Ted]. Who is this impertinent snip of a boy who dares to insinuate that my master, Santa Claus, is too old and decrepit to do his work any longer?
Ted. Indeed, indeed, I didn't say that!
Brownie [wrathfully]. What did you say, then? It sounded very much like it. [Shakes his head fiercely.]
Ted. I—I—I just said—that I think he makes mistakes sometimes.
Brownie [sitting down cross-legged on the table]. Very well, we'll just have this matter settled at once. Sit down, now, and let me hear what you have to say. [Ted backs away from his chair.] No, that won't do. Sit down, I tell you. [Ted reluctantly obeys, pulling his chair to a safe distance, and sitting astride of it.] Now then, young sir, will you tell me what complaints you have to register against your last year's stocking? Wasn't everything in it that you asked for?
Ted [anxious to appease]. Oh, yes! and more, too!
Brownie. And wasn't everything in it in perfect order? Was anything broken?
Ted [emphatically]. No! Everything was just out of sight!
Brownie. And weren't all the cracks stuffed tight with candy and nuts and raisins?