Out came the trains, the wagons, the sleds. Nimbletoes sped by with his arms full of Teddy bears and Jumping Jacks. Sweet-Tooth staggered along under his load of candy, fifty different kinds. Silvertongue carried toy cats and dogs, elephants, sheep, and camels, too. Very gently Kindheart brought out the dolls, tucking them carefully into warm and comfortable nooks. Mischief dragged down the steps two rocking-horses at a time, their manes and tails blowing in the frosty air. Fleetfoot and Merrythought were everywhere at once, tying a bicycle on the back of the sleigh, pushing in a stray Noah’s Ark, squeezing a Jack-in-the-Box into place. Little by little the sleigh was filled. Higher and higher grew the pile of toys. It was more and more difficult to find a place for each toy now.
Sharpeyes ran about, picking up the last few toys that had been dropped here and there.
Merrythought stood by the reindeer, rubbing Dasher’s head, patting Dancer upon his furry nose.
Santa Claus drew on his gloves. It was almost time to start.
Suddenly Mischief, whose face had grown very red, called out, ‘Where is Lady Arabella? We have forgotten Lady Arabella.’
Every one looked at every one else. It was true, quite true, they had forgotten Lady Arabella.
Mischief, always as quick as a flash, darted into the Palace, to come running out again, holding Lady Arabella by the hand.
‘I found her!’ called Mischief. ‘I found her! She was hiding behind the curtain, on the window-sill. But, look, Santa Claus, she is crying! Lady Arabella is crying!’
And so it was. Lady Arabella was crying. In spite of her tiny handkerchief which she pulled from her pinafore pocket, the tears ran down her pretty pink cheeks and the end of her little tip-tilted nose was red.
The Brownies stared at Lady Arabella, and Santa Claus stared too. Such a thing as a crying doll had never happened before. The toys were always happy and excited on Christmas Eve, looking forward to their new homes, wherever Santa Claus might leave them.