The long winter twilight was beginning when Lili came out of the library. Already the lights from the grocery and the drugstore on the corner beyond warmed the cold gray stone of the pavement with red light. Further over, past the intersecting street, an arc lamp made a misty star in the dimness. Toward the star of light Lili made her way.
Yes, yes, she was on the right side of the street—she was getting nearer, nearer! Lili’s heart went pit-a-pat. Oh, there it was—There it was! It was a little shop that bore the number. Over its window was a sign, S. T. Claus. Somewhere Lili thought she had seen Santa Claus’ name written that way! It was the very place, no doubt!
In the shop-window was a wee green tinsel-covered tree. Toys were caught in the branches. They overflowed onto the broad base of the display-window—cats, dogs, carts, steam-engines, dolls, baby-carriages, jumping-jacks—Oh!
Lili stood staring, transfixed with wonder, for—for there in the store, visible through the lighted window, was a small, jolly-looking, white-bearded man—exactly like the picture of Santa Claus in the story book! To be sure, his white beard was not quite so long, and he wore a gray knit coat instead of a bright red one with white fur on it. But his occupation of stringing Christmas tree chains was so very Santa-Claus-like, there could be no mistake in identity!
Just here, he came to the window and added a box of gay candles to the display of toys. He looked out at Lili through the frosty panes and smiled. “Hello,” he called by way of cheery greeting.
“Hello,” returned Lili, and, somehow, before she knew it, she was standing in the shop beside the worn counter, looking up into the merry face of Mr. Claus.
“It was through the directory that I found you,” she smiled. “Rose Schneider, she says there ain’t no real Santa Claus—but I says there is for sure! A lot of children must have passed here an’ not known where Santa Claus lived maybe! But I found you!”
Santa Claus doubled in a hearty chuckle. “And here I am all the time,” he laughed, “just every day.”
“Didn’t anybody know you was the real Santa Claus?” Lili gazed confidently into the old man’s bright eyes. “They had ought to know by the sign,” she suggested.
“How should they?” the little man replied. “Santa Claus—everybody knows he likes to be an ordinary citizen. You won’t tell the kids, will you?”