like all modern
parents, made idols of their children. They never did wrong, nothing was
too good for them, and everything they wanted they had. At Christmas,
perhaps, their authority was more particularly in evidence; at any rate,
it was then that the greatest care was taken that the menu should be in
strict accordance with their instructions. "What shall Santa Claus bring
you this time, my darlings?" Mr. Anderson asked, a week or so before the
great day arrived; and Willie, aged six, at once cried out: "What a fool
you are, daddy! It is all tosh about old Claus, there's no such person!"

"Wait and see!" Mr. Anderson meekly replied. "You mark my words, he will
come into your room on Christmas Eve laden with presents."

"I don't believe it!" Willie retorted. "You told us that silly tale last
year and I never saw any Claus!"

"He came when you were asleep, dearie," Mrs. Anderson ventured to
remark.

"Well! I'll keep awake this time!" Willie shouted.

"And we'll take the presents first and pinch old Claus afterwards,"
Violet Evelyn, the second child, joined in.

"And I'll prick his towsers wif pins!" Horace, aged three and a half,
echoed. "I don't care nothink for old Santa Claus!" and he pulled a long
nose in the manner his doting father had taught him.

Christmas Eve came at last--a typical old-fashioned Christmas with heaps
of snow on the ground and frost on the window-panes and trees. The
Andersons' house was warm and comfortable--for once in a way the windows
were shut--and enormous fires blazed merrily away in the grates. Whilst
the children spent most of the day viewing the good things in the larder
and speculating how much they could eat of each, and which would taste
the nicest, Mr. Anderson rehearsed in full costume the role of Santa
Claus. He had an enormous sack full of presents--everything the children
had demanded--and he meant to enter their room with it on his shoulder
at about twelve o'clock.

Tea-time came, and during the interval between that meal and supper all
hands--even Horace's--were at work, decorating the hall and staircases
with holly and mistletoe. After supper "Good King Wencelas," "Noel," and
one or two other carols were sung, and the children then decided to go
to bed.

It was then ten o'clock; and exactly two hours later their father,
elaborately clad as Santa Claus, and staggering, in the orthodox
fashion, beneath a load of presents, shuffled softly down the passage
leading to