give me what I asked him."

"What did you ask him to bring you, honey?" inquired Anne.

Arthur looked at her gravely. "I'se forgot. Was so many fings. And one
sock is for Santa C'aus. I'm going to fill it all full of fings. A
apple. And popcorn balls--Marfa made 'em. And my dear woolly dog's for
Santa. Will he care if it's foot's bwoke?"

"But, Arthur darling," suggested Anne, "I wouldn't give the woolly dog
away. You love it best of all your toys."

"Yes, I do," agreed Arthur. "Old Santa'll love him, too. And I'll give
him my wed wose. Mamma wored it to her party las' night. Smell it, Anne;
ain't it sweet? And see here,"--he opened his chubby fist. "Fahver give
me five cents. I'm goin' to give it to Santa C'aus. And tell him to buy
him anyfing he wants wif it."

Anne hugged him heartily. "You dear, cute, generous, precious darling!"
she exclaimed.

Arthur drew away with sober dignity. Anne's caresses interfered with his
serious occupation. "I was w'iting Santa a letter," he explained. "But I
can't w'ite weal good. I'm fwead he can't wead it. Wouldn't you w'ite my
letter, Anne?" he asked, gazing doubtfully at his scribbling.

"That I will. I'll write just what you tell me," said Anne. "Give me the
pencil. And you may hold Honey-Sweet while I'm writing."

This was the letter:--

"Dear Santa Claus,--I thank you for the presents you gave me
last Christmas. I thank you for the presents you are going to give me
this Christmas. Santa Claus, the things in this sock are for you. I give
you a red rose. And a woolly dog. He can stand up if you prop him with
his tail. And five cents to buy you anything you want. I asked Martha
to put out the fire so you won't get burnt coming down the chimney.
Santa Claus, I wish you and Mrs. Santa Claus a merry Christmas. And
good-by.

"Your loving friend,

"Arthur Marshall."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief when the letter was sealed and the sock
containing it and the chosen gifts was hung by the mantel-piece. He lay
down on a goatskin rug and looked into the flickering fire, prattling
about what Santa Claus would say when he found the gifts. Presently he
dropped asleep.

Twilight fell. From the gray skies the snow came down steadily. The
small, hard flakes tinkled against the window-panes. A northeast wind
shook the elm-tree branches, rattled the windows, and moaned around the
house. Anne sat staring out into the gathering night. How bleak it was!
how lonely-l