On date previously before Xmas I go to town-village with weekly salary, price $5, and purchase considerable wheel-cart, squeak-doll, jump-up-Jack, and other childish amusement. These I poke under overcoat and retreat home slyly like snails walking over upholstery.
When night time was there, Hon. Hester & Lester was cruelly sent to bedtime and locked asleep so they would not find out about Hon. St Claus. As soonly as they make sleep, Mrs. & Mr. Poke command me for bring forth Xmas-tree. I make him grow from soap-box in dining-room. I assist intelligently hanging this foliage with tin fruit, including numberous candles standing on limbs to resemble candy fireworks. While Hon. Poke boss my enthusiasm, I fetch forth considerable heavy toy-boxes from basement of cellar. Back-broke feelings by me. Yet I continue this labors until mixed assortment of Xmas stood by tree with deceptive labels about Hon. St Claus.
At 1 o’clock hour a.m. Mrs. and Mr. retire bedward, exhausted from observing my work. But my dutiful labors had just commenced. I must prepare to show those childish children how Hon. Mr. Claus down-slide down chimbley-pipe.
All house was full of darkness. Frozen moonlight outside. With sneekret feetsteps, like snakes swimming in oil, I approach to closet and fetch forth following articles of clothes:
- 1 minkish ottomobile coat
- 2 boots of rubberly exterior
- 1 cap from Eskimo leather
- ½ lb cotton resembling whisker.
I drop all them presents I bought inside one laundry-bag, place myself into those garments of clothes, then with detective toes I descend up through attric to where chimbley-pipe was on roof.
4 o’clock time now approach. Making affectionate hugs to Hon. Chimbley, I could tell it was Xmas by the feel of the themometer. By peeking down Hon. Chimbley, I could see how it was sifficiently large hole to permit my Japanese smallness—yet I must compress myself to do so. I enjoyed considerable nervusness like heroes expecting to dive down Mt. Vesuvius.
Pretty soonly 6 a.m. was there and I was not yet froze completely hard. By listening down chimbley-pipe with telephone expression, I could hear childhood voices coming down-stairs saying “Oh!!” It were time for me to make some slide.
I pull ½lb cotton to my chin, snuggle Hon. Bag to back, and commence climbing into chimbley. What was? Distinctually I could smell slight smudj of smoke coming upwards! Yet it were too late. Already I was slipping, down-sliding slowly. Great chokes enjoyed. When nearly down I stuck up suddenly. More chokes.
“Oh, hellup, hellup!” I gollup.