As they looked around on the company they bore a
strong resemblance to their parents, with their rosy cheeks and
laughing lips.

"I had to leave most of the children at home," the mother was
saying. "Lambkin is too young to come out such a cold night, so
Eagle stayed to take care of her; and at the very last minute
Monkey broke his arm, and of course Brother couldn't come without
his twin. It only served Monkey right, he's so careless--though
I'm not quite sure that it is Monkey! I never can tell those boys
apart." Mother Santa Claus wagged her head cheerfully. "Then,
Mousey and Deer have sore throats, and I thought the rest had
better stay and keep the sick ones company. They'll have a good
Christmas Eve all together, even if they are sick."

"Please, can I take off my coat?" asked one of the girls, coming to
her mother's side.

"Not yet, Starling. Sit down and be quiet!"

"Your children have unusual names," twinkled the host gravely.

"That's what people say," the mother returned. "But we simply name
them according to their characteristics. This one," nodding to the
girl who had just gone back to her seat, "we call Starling, because
she talks so much, and her sister there is Dove, because she is so
gentle. Squirrel is the nimblest of them all and he is never still
a minute. See him wiggling round now! This little one," reaching
out a hand to the smallest of the four, "is Lark. because he sings
so sweetly.--Can't you sing your new carol, dear?"

So the youngest of the Santa Clauses stood up obediently and sung a
beautiful Christmas song about the Baby Christ. The applause was
long and insistent.

"He'll sing again for you pretty soon," promised Mother Santa
Claus. "I think father is ready to distribute the presents now.
Come, children, run along and help him, and mind you all step
lively!"

The rosy-cheeked Saint took up a big parcel, and read off, in a
clear voice, "Miss Katharine Crilly."

Starling was nearest, and took the package; but Miss Crilly, a
little upset at being the owner of the first name called, jumped up
and hurried across the room for her present, unheedful of mistletoe
and the eyes that were watching her. Just inside the enchanted
circle, the sudden hush of the room gave her its warning. She
caught the eager glances directed beyond her, and turning her head
uttered a startled cry. Almost at the same instant an arm shot
toward her, missing its aim by scarce an inch. With