“Well, that’s a good job, ain’t it?” remarked Charley.
“Yes,” said Barrington. “And whom do you think I’m working for?”
“Who?”
“Santa Claus.”
“Santa Claus!” echoed the children, opening their eyes to the fullest extent.
“Yes,” continued Barrington, solemnly. “You know, he is a very old man now, so old that he can’t do all his work himself. Last year he was so tired that he wasn’t able to get round to all the children he wanted to give things to, and consequently a great many of them never got anything at all. So this year he’s given me a job to help him. He’s given me some money and a list of children’s names, and against their names are written the toys they are to have. My work is to buy the things and give them to the boys and girls whose names are on the list.”
The children listened to this narrative with bated breath. Incredible as the story seemed, Barrington’s manner was so earnest as to almost compel belief.
“Really and truly, or are you only having a game?” said Frankie at length, speaking almost in a whisper. Elsie and Charley maintained an awestruck silence, while Freddie beat upon the glass with the palms of his hands.
“Really and truly,” replied Barrington unblushingly as he took out his pocket-book and turned over the leaves. “I’ve got the list here; perhaps your names are down for something.”
The three children turned pale and their hearts beat violently as they listened wide-eyed for what was to follow.