-" but the Child suddenly
stopped.

"Oho!" his grandfather laughed, and the Child listened in surprise. He
had never heard such a merry laugh before. His grandfather rubbed his
nose that the cold had painted as red as a cherry. Then his
grandfather was gone, and the Child went on, wondering.

The streets were full of people, their arms crowded with big white
parcels tied with red ribbon. Some of them carried great green wreaths
and bunches of holly. There were so many grocery teams, and toy shop
teams, and flower shop teams that the Child was afraid to cross the
street. He went part of the way across. Then he saw the horses coming,
and he did not know which way to go. He might have been hurt, but a
kind hand took hold of his and helped him safely across the street. He
looked up at the man, who wore a long red cloak trimmed with white.

"Who are you?" the Child asked.

"One of the Christmas helpers," the man said. "I stand here at the
street corner and ring a Christmas bell, and people who pass by give
me money for my poor ones. And where are you going?" he asked the
Child.

"I am going to see Santa Claus," the Child answered.

"Will you know Santa Claus when you see him?" the man asked.

"Oh, yes," the Child said. "Santa Claus wears a long red cloak trimmed
with white--" But then the Child stopped.

The man pulled his red cloak about him. It was very cold and he had no
fire. Then he took his place at the street corner again. The Child
watched him and then went on, wondering.

A little farther on, there was an old man, sitting in a shop, and
making toys. Once he had been a soldier, but now he was able to do
nothing but sit at his work bench carving, and gluing, and painting
playthings for children. The Child went in and watched him work. There
were wooly lambs that would bleat, and toy horses with harnesses on
the shelves of the toy shop. There were dolls with blue eyes, and
dolls with brown eyes, and dolls that could talk, and dolls that could
walk, all waiting there for Christmas Eve. The toyman, himself, was
fitting wheels on wooden carts and wheelbarrows, and as he worked he
sang a quaint little tune with these words,

"A little green tree,
From a far white hill,
Made a Christmas tree,
By my merry skill--"

Then the toyman, who used to be a soldier, turned to the Child who was
just going out of the shop. "Where are you going?" the toyman asked
the Child.

"I am going to see Santa Cla