!

--"'What did Mr. Livingstone say?'--Well, what do you suppose a man
would say Christmas Eve to another man who has eight wide-awake children
who will sit up in front of the biggest fire-place in the house until
midnight Christmas Eve so that Santa Claus can't come down the only
chimney big enough to hold his presents? He would say, 'John Clark, I
have no children of my own, but you have eight, and if you don't go home
this minute and see that those children are in bed and fast asleep and
snoring,--yes, snoring, mind,--by ten o'clock, I'll never, and Santa
Claus will never--!'

--"'Did I see anything of Santa Claus?' Well, if I were to tell
you--what I saw this night, why,--you'd never believe me. There's a
sleigh so big coming in a little while to this town, and this street,
and this house, that it holds presents enough for--.

"'When will it be here?' Well, from the sleigh-bells that I heard I
should say--. My goodness, gracious! If it isn't almost ten o'clock, and
if that sleigh should get here whilst there's a single eye open in this
house, I don't know what Santa Claus might do!"

And, with a strength that one might have thought quite astonishing, John
Clark rose somehow from under the mass of little heads, and, with his
arms still around them, still talking, still cajoling, still
entertaining and still caressing, he managed to bear the whole curly,
chattering flock to the door where, with renewed kisses and squeezes and
questions, they were all finally induced to release their hold and run
squeaking and frisking off upstairs to bed.

Then, as he closed the door, Clark turned and looked at the only other
occupant of the room, a lady whose pale face would have told her story
even had she not remained outstretched on a lounge during the preceding
scene.

If, however, Mrs. Clark's face was pale, her eyes were brilliant, and
the look that she and her husband exchanged told that even invalidism
and narrow means have alleviations, so full was the glance they gave of
confidence and joy.

Yet, as absolute as was their confidence, Mr. Clark did not now tell his
wife the truth. He gave her in a few words the reason of his return. Mr.
Livingstone was feeling unwell, he said. He had not remembered it was
Christmas Eve, he added; and, turning quickly and opening the door into
the front room he guilefully dived at once into the matter of the
Christmas-tree which was standing there waiting to be dressed.

Whether or n