.

"In the first place," resumed the little mauve mouse, after
a pause that testified eloquently to the depth of her
emotion,--"in the first place, that wretched cat dressed herself
up in that pretty little white muff, by which you are to
understand that she crawled through the muff just so far as to
leave her four cruel legs at liberty."

"Yes, I understand," said the old clock.

"Then she put on the boy doll's fur cap," said the little mauve
mouse, "and when she was arrayed in the boy doll's fur cap and
Dear-my-Soul's pretty little white muff, of course she didn't
look like a cruel cat at all. But whom did she look like?"

"Like the boy doll," suggested the old clock.

"No, no!" cried the little mauve mouse.

"Like Dear-my-Soul?" asked the old clock.

"How stupid you are!" exclaimed the little mauve mouse. "Why,
she looked like Santa Claus, of course!"

"Oh, yes; I see," said the old clock. "Now I begin to be
interested; go on."

"Alas!" sighed the little mauve mouse, "not much remains to be
told; but there is more of my story left than there was of
Squeaknibble when that horrid cat crawled out of that miserable
disguise. You are to understand that, contrary to her sagacious
mother's injunction, and in notorious derision of the mooted
coming of Santa Claus, Squeaknibble issued from the friendly
hole in the chimney corner, and gambolled about over this very
carpet, and, I dare say, in this very moonlight."

"I do not know," said the moonbeam faintly. "I am so very old,
and I have seen so many things--I do not know."

"Right merrily was Squeaknibble gambolling," continued the
little mauve mouse, "and she had just turned a double back
somersault without the use of what remained of her tail when,
all of a sudden, she beheld, looming up like a monster ghost, a
figure all in white fur! Oh, how frightened she was, and how her
little heart did beat! 'Purr, purr-r-r,' said the ghost in white
fur. 'Oh, please don't hurt me!' pleaded Squeaknibble. 'No; I'll
not hurt you,' said the ghost in white fur; 'I'm Santa Claus,
and I've brought you a beautiful piece of savory old cheese,
you dear little mousie, you.' Poor Squeaknibble was deceived;
a sceptic all her life, she was at last befooled by the most
palpable and most fatal of frauds. 'How good of you!' said
Squeaknibble. 'I didn't believe there was a Santa Claus, and--'
but before she could say more she was seized by two sharp, cruel
claws that conveyed her crush