When he turned round, Jem recognized him at once.
"Eh! Eh!" he said. "What! What! Who's this, Tootsicums?"
Baby's manner became very acid indeed.
"I shouldn't have thought you would have said that, Mr. Claus," she remarked. "I can't help myself down below, but I generally have my rights respected up here. I should like to know what sane godfather or godmother would give one the name of 'Tootsicums' in one's baptism. They are bad enough, I must say; but I never heard of any of them calling a person 'Tootsicums.'"
"Come, come!" said S.C., chuckling comfortably and rubbing his hands. "Don't be too dignified,—it's a bad thing. And don't be too fond of flourishing your rights in people's faces,—that's the worst of all, Miss Midget. Folks who make such a fuss about their rights turn them into wrongs sometimes."
Then he turned suddenly to Jem.
"You are the little girl from down below," he said.
"Yes, sir," answered Jem. "I'm Jem, and this is my friend Flora,—out of the blue book."
"I'm happy to make her acquaintance," said S.C., "and I'm happy to make yours. You are a nice child, though a trifle peppery. I'm very glad to see you."
"I'm very glad indeed to see you, sir," said Jem. "I wasn't quite sure—"