“Yes, I likee,” he replied, with his mouth full of herring. “What foh you takee walk? Where you go?”
She took hold of the end of his queue, and pulling him toward her, whispered in his ear the magic words: “We go see Clismas! we catch ’em Sanny Claw.”
This announcement was almost too much for Ah Gong, and his little celestial brain could not take in so much happiness all at once, so he stared at her a moment until he had swallowed the bite of herring, and then gasped out: “But Ah Gong ’flaid Sanny Claw spit fieh (fire) on us; allee samee heap big dlagon.”
Ah Chee had to giggle at this, with her ever-ready Chinese giggle, but putting her long sateen sleeve round him in a protecting manner she answered him in the kindest tone: “Oh, no! ’Melican Sanny Claw heap good man—allee samee joss; we go find him; come along!”
So they started in the growing darkness, with the sweet faith of a child in their hearts. They knew not where to go, nor which way to turn, but only had the one thought—just to find the ’Melican Clismas. When they had disappeared, the shopkeeper believed they had gone home for the night, and gave them no more thought; the tired mother upstairs supposed that they were in the shop, as they often went in there and played until late, because it was bright, and the man was kind to them.
They knew they could not find Santa Claus in Chinatown, so the first thing to do was to get out of the Chinese section, and into one of the great thoroughfares of the city. On they went, past the joss house, where they had once been with their mother to burn pretty candles before the joss, and they looked up with childish admiration at the big round lanterns which hung on the balcony, and tried to read the Chinese letters at the door. Sometime, perhaps when the moon festival came, or the Chinese New Year, it might be that mo chun would take them again, if she had money enough to buy any more pretty candles. The good joss liked pretty candles.
There were many lovely things to be seen in Chinatown, but to-night they were going somewhere else. It did not occur to them that they might get lost, or that their dear mother might be uneasy. They were too much excited over what the story-teller had told them to worry over anything, so they toddled on, their hearts full of expectation. They had no idea what Christmas would be like when they should find it, or whether it would be alive, but they could wait. How very queer it seemed when they had left the narrow crooked streets of Chinatown, with its smell of incense and its balconies and lanterns, and found themselves on a great wide street full of people, so full of people that the heart of the motherly little Ah Chee almost failed her, and she clasped her arm protectingly around the body of her fat baby brother, and whispered words of encouragement in his little brown ear.
Many people, in the hurry of their Christmas shopping, gave a passing thought of wonder that the two little Chinese children should be in the dense crowd alone, but thought perhaps their parents were following them; and so, with a smile at the dimpled tea-rose face and sparkling eyes of the Chinese maiden they passed on, to the brightness and good cheer of their own comfortable homes. There were so many street cars, with bells clanging, carriages dashing past, and so much noise and confusion that they were both frightened. Even the brave little heart of Ah Chee beat violently under the padded warmth of her dark blue blouse, and for a moment she almost feared they would not find Santa Claus. But just then a voice said something, and a big policeman picked her up, and smiled at her, saying: “Where are you going, little one? Where is mamma?”
The timid little voice of Ah Chee replied, “Mo chun, she at home; can you tell me,” she eagerly questioned, “where Sanny Claw is?”
“Why, yes, to be sure; he is in there.”