ysterious whisper:

"I know who Santa Claus is." The whisper ended with a little chuckle of
delight at her astuteness. "I found it out last Christmas."

"Kitty, you didn't! You must have been mistaken?" said the shopkeeper
with a grin on his kindly countenance. "Who is he?"

"Mr.--Brown, and Mr. and Mrs.--Clark," said Kitty slowly and
impressively, as though she were adding up figures and the result would
speak for itself. She took in the shop with a wave of her little hand
and a sweep of her eyes.

"I'm playing Santa Claus myself, to-night," she said, tossing her hooded
head, her eyes kindling at the thought. The next look around was one of
business.

"This is Mr. Livingstone, papa's employer." She indicated that
gentleman.

Mr. Brown held out his plump and not wholly immaculate hand.

"How d'ye do, sir? I think I've heard of you?"

He turned back to Kitty.

"Who for?" he asked.

"For him," Kitty nodded. "He's got a whole lot of little children--not
his own children--other people's children--that he's going to give
Christmas presents to, and I've come to help him. What have you got
left, Mr. Santa Claus?"

She stood on tiptoe and peered over the shelves.

"Well, not a great deal, Miss Wide-awake," said the shopkeeper dropping
into her manner and mood. "You see there's lots of children around this
year as don't keep wide-awake all night, and Santa Claus has had to look
after 'em quite considerable. I can't tell you how many sleighs full of
things he's taken away from this here very shop. He didn't leave nothing
but them things you see and the very expensive things in the cases. He
said they were too high-priced for him."

He actually gave Livingstone a wink, and Livingstone actually felt
flattered by it.

The reply recalled Kitty to her business. She turned to Mr. Livingstone.

"How much money have you got to spend?" she asked.

"Umhm--I don't know," said Livingstone.

"As much as a dollar?"

"Yes."

"More?"

"Yes."

"How much more?"

"As much as you want. Suppose you pick out the things you like and then
we can see about the price," he suggested.

"Some things cost a heap."

She was looking at a doll on whose skirt was pinned a little scrap of
card-board marked, "_25c._"

"Yes, they do," assented Livingstone. "But they are worth it," he
thought. "I tell you what!--Suppose you look around and see just what
you like, and I'll go off here and talk with Mr. Brown so as not to
disturb you