chap would like for a Christmas present,” continued he, eying the stocking; then putting his arms akimbo, he began to consider. Charles’s heart beat. “Good Mr. Nicholas,” said he to himself, “if you could only give me that pony.” But he kept quite still, for he saw the old man put his hands into his tremendous pockets. “Let me see,” said old Nicholas, “here is a jack-knife that I was to have given Tommy Battle, if he had not quarrelled with his sisters. Open sesame!” The stocking opened, and in went the jack-knife. It was the very thing that Charles wanted. One after another the old gentleman pulled out tops, twine, marbles, dissected maps,
picture-books, sugar-plums, besides divers other notions, all the while talking to himself. “This drum,” said he, “is for Tom Barnwell, a clever little fellow who never tells lies. These pretty little fish-hooks and line Master Troup must have, for his patient care of his father when he was sick. This mask is for Orace Allen; he must not use it to frighten little children, or I shall remember
it when Christmas comes again. Let me see, I will give this globe to Joseph Dudley, who is a studious boy,
and he will make a good use of it. This pretty annual was for William Wiley, but the lad kicked his brother, and called him a bad name, so I will lay it by for George Wilde.”
Charles thought he could stay for ever to see the old gentleman take out his knicknacks, and tell who they were for; but he began to be a little frightened for his own stocking, when he recollected that he had been remiss in his Latin the last quarter. “I hope the old gentleman does not understand the classics,” said Charley to himself; but he stopped short, for his queer visiter held up the stocking, saying, “I think this lad loves gunpowder by the smell of his stocking.”
He then took hold of his hair, and pulling out crackers by the dozen from his head, tied them up into neat parcels, and threw them into the stocking. As fast as he pulled them off, new crackers appeared, and hung down over his ears and forehead. “This accounts for the noise we hear on Christmas,” said Charles; “I never knew who made all the crackers!” and he had to hold his sides for laughing, the old man looked so droll.
