Rub-dub-a-dub-a-dub, “Come back here with my tub,”
His sister cried; but Bobby hied
Away and out with hurried feet
A soldier marching down the street
And playing on his sister’s tub,
Rub—rub—rub—rub—rub-dub-a-dub.
“That will do for jingles,” said Ray. “Suppose we look in some other room.” They left the picture-books and the machine for rhymes and walked to another door. A large sign over it read:—
“OFFICE OF SANTA CLAUS.
NO ADMITTANCE EXCEPT ON BUSINESS.
THIS IS MY BUSY DAY.”
“He must be terribly busy,” said Ray, “we’d better not go in; he might not like it, you know.”