“Do you suppose he heard what I said?” asked Maysie, straining her neck to get a glimpse of the Santa Claus in the window.
“I shouldn’t be surprised if he did,” replied Mrs. Ledwell. “You will find out to-morrow. Now tell me where you live, Maysie.”
Maysie rattled off the address in a loud voice, for she hoped that Santa Claus would overhear it and send the doll she wanted so much.
Mrs. Ledwell then left Sam sitting in the sleigh, and entered the store. She picked out a beautiful doll, a pretty chatelaine bag, and a boy’s sled, and ordered them to be sent to the address Maysie had given her. Then with a glow at her warm heart, to think of the pleasure these gifts would carry with them, she joined her little grandson.
“Do you remember to have seen those children before, Sam?” she asked, as they drove along.
“Yes, I remember them,” replied Sam. “They were looking in at the cakes in the bake-shop window, and Grandpapa bought them a great bagful of them. They looked as if they didn’t have cakes every day, Grandpapa said.”
Sam had taken no special notice of the dog the little boy had with him on that occasion, or he would probably have recognized the lost dog he had found in the park as the same one.
The market was soon reached, and Sam and his grandmother went up the steps. The front of the large building was piled high with long garlands of evergreen for trimming, and green wreaths bright with red berries. Christmas-trees and branches of holly filled every vacant nook. Here also were groups of children, eager to obtain as many glimpses as possible of the Christmas pleasures they could not expect to have.
Mrs. Ledwell’s tender heart was touched at the sight of the little patient faces, and her ready hand went straight to her well-filled purse. She knew by experience that these little people would be there, and had provided a goodly supply of change. “Sam,” she said to her little grandson, “would you like to give those children something for Christmas?”