I heard a queer, sharp voice at my elbow, saying, “Now, then, by your leave!” and turning, saw at my elbow an enormous pair of shears, walking about on two legs, and looking as proud as you please.
“Dear Number Threes,
A million sevens, if you please!”
said Saint Valentine.
Snip-snap! snip-snap! went the shears, and there lay a million little sheets of white paper.
Then the Saint cried,—
“Bring me some hearts,
And flaming darts!”
and a dozen cupids came up, dragging a great basket full of hearts, and carrying bundles of darts under their arms. Quick as lightning, Saint Valentine took a couple of hearts out of the basket, clapped them on a sheet of paper, stuck a dart into them, flung a wreath of flowers round them, then, thump! a great stamp came down on the paper, and out of it came a lovely valentine.
That was quick work! in five minutes, I should think, five hundred valentines were turned out. I stood looking on in delight.