“Perhaps if you watered it an extra lot the plots would grow,” said Santa Claus at dinner next day.
“Perhaps if you pruned it—” began Toymaker Number Five, but that was no good either; the Plot Tree had been beautifully pruned just a few weeks before and now was a marvel of perfect branches and healthy sap.
“Did you ever try using a little imagination on it?” asked Toymaker Number Eleven timidly. Everybody stared.
“What’s imagination?” asked Hickety-Stickety.
“Why—” commenced Santa Claus and stopped.
“Why—” began Mrs. Claus and stopped.
“Why—” Benjamin Bookfellow started and stopped.
So Toymaker Number Eleven finished up for them.
“Why, Hickety-Stickety,” he said in a little thin voice, “if you think up a lovely story that never happened, but is better than anything that ever did happen, that’s imagination. There’s a spring,” he added dreamily, “where the waters of imagination grow. I know where that spring is.”
“You do?” everybody at the table cried.