“He is a philosopher,” said Snythergen. “He thinks and plans while mother knits.”
“I wonder how midgets would like it here?” asked Santa Claus, thoughtfully.
“I am sure they would like it very much,” said Snythergen, “except for one thing. They are sensitive about their size and cannot bear to live in a house with high ceilings. You see it makes them realize how small they are. But if you are willing to have them here, I can build a little two-story house with six rooms, and set it up in a corner of our big bedroom. I could place it where it would not be in the way, and when the housemaid comes to sweep and dust I could hang it up on a hook in the wall.”
“I will have to look up our laws before I can ask them,” said Santa Claus. “I don’t think grownups are allowed to come to the Wreath. I might as well repeat, since you may come here to live,” he continued, “that this is no palace of idleness. There is much to do and everybody helps. The reindeer’s faces, necks and ears have to be washed every day, and the sleighbells rubbed with silver polish. We have to keep track of all the children in the world and enter the new babies in a big book as fast as they are born. We have a toy factory where Christmas presents are made, such as popcorn balls, Noah’s arks, fire engines and dolls.”
“What will the bear do?” asked Squeaky anxiously.
“I intend to have him pose as a model for Teddy Bears,” said Santa Claus. “Of course the housekeeper will have to sit by his side ready to feed him olives and custard pie the moment he shows any restlessness.”
Santa Claus took his watch from his pocket. “It’s my bedtime,” said he, “so if you are ready I will escort you to your room.”
A traffic butler stood at hall intersections