o begin now. Either you
must get me down by yourself, or I shall manage to work out at the top
again--and then I'm sorry to say you'll have to go without your
presents."

Marianne sat down on the hearthrug in a state of anxious
consideration. There waved the great brown feet, and two or three
steps would land them safely on the hearthrug, but how could it
possibly be managed?

The Chintz Imp curled up his green legs and sat down beside her, his
bright red eyes blinking thoughtfully.

"We must hang on to him," he said at last; "or what do you say to my
trying to collect a dozen or so children, to pull?"

"Why they'd all be in bed hours ago," said Marianne. "Besides, their
parents would never let them come, and Uncle Max would want to know
whatever we were doing."

"Yes. I see _that_ idea is no good. Have you such a thing as a
pocket-knife?" enquired the Chintz Imp.

"A beauty," said Marianne; "four blades, a button-hook, and a
corkscrew."

"Ah, the corkscrew might be of some use if we could draw him out with
it; but he might object. However, I'll try what I can do with the
knife."

"You won't cut him! You'll have to be very careful!"

"Of course," said the Chintz Imp. "Do you think I am as old as your
great-aunt, without knowing much more than _you_ do! Bring me the
knife. I'm going to swarm up the chimney and scratch away the mortar.
Leave it entirely to me, and Santa Klaus will be down here in an hour
or two!"

Marianne ran off to her little play box, and returned with the knife.
It was almost as large as the Chintz Imp, but he possessed so much
wiry strength in his thin arms and backbone that he was able to
clamber up the chimney without difficulty.

"Are you all right?" cried Marianne, standing with her bare feet on
the edge of the stone fender, and holding up the night-light as high
as she could without singeing Santa Klaus.

"Getting up," replied the Chintz Imp, "but he's in very tight!"

"Is it his sack that's stuck?" enquired Marianne, anxiously.

"Yes, yes! It's only my sack!" cried the deep voice; "you get that
loose, and I shall drop into the room like a fairy."

Marianne strained her eyes up the chimney, but could see nothing.

"Take care! Here's a lot of plaster falling!"

The warning was just in time, for, as Marianne's head disappeared, a
handful of cement fell rattling into the fireplace, just escaping her
bare feet as she jumped on to the hearthrug.

"The knife does beautifully,"