“And—and how black he is!” murmured Dot. “Are—are all Santa Clauses so black?”
“Aw, you girls make me sick!” growled the much abashed Santa Claus.
“I declare—he talks our language!” cried Agnes.
“Why, of course,” said Tess, the literal. “He’s in my class at school, you know.”
“You think you are all so smart!” sneered Sammy Pinkney, and that sneer was something awful to behold. Dot fairly shuddered.
“You wait!” snarled Sammy. “When I run away and get to be a pirate, I’ll—I’ll—I’ll—”
Sammy’s emotion choked him for the moment. Mrs. MacCall sniffed; Ruth began to speak soothingly; Agnes giggled; Tess looked her disapproval of the savage young Santa Claus; while Dot, who had caught up the Alice-doll and squeezed her protectingly to her breast, gasped:
“Oh! Oh! Isn’t he dreadful?”
Sammy’s sharp ear evidently caught the smallest Corner House girl’s whisper, for he rolled an approving eye in Dot’s direction, and finally finished his fearsome peroration with true piratical savagery:
“I’ll come back and I’ll make every one of you walk the plank!”