then stuck.

"No, it's not ripe yet," said the Brownie. "Try this one."

He picked another one, and this one shut its eyes just as if it had
gone to sleep.

"We'll take that one," he said, and he dropped it into a big sack he
was carrying.

"Now this one cries, if it's ripe," he said as he picked a lovely
infant doll. The Brownie gave it a squeeze, and the doll made a funny
squeaking noise.

"Not quite ripe," he said, and he put it back into the bed. He tried
several others, and he picked a good many. Some of them cried, some
said "Mamma" and "Papa," and some danced when they were wound up.

"Oh, do come over here, Margaret!" Jack called.

Margaret ran over to another bed and there were drums--big drums,
little drums, and middle sized drums; yellow drums, blue drums, green
drums, red drums.

"Can we gather some of these?" said Jack to the Brownie.

"Why, of course. Let's see if this one is ripe."

The Brownie took up a little red drum, and gave it a thump with a
drum stick. But it made such a queer sound that Jack and Margaret both
laughed out loud. The little red drum was put back into the bed, and
the Brownie tried another big one. It went _Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Boom_! and Jack and Margaret marched all along the bed, keeping step
to it.

When they had finished picking drums, they went over to a bed filled
with horns. That was the most fun of all. Some of them made very queer
noises, and on some the Brownie played jolly little tunes.

The next bed they came to was filled with toys which could be wound
up. There were trains, automobiles, dancing dolls, climbing monkeys,
hopping birds, funny wobbling ducks, and every kind of toy you could
think of. The children stayed at this bed for a long time.

At last Margaret said: "But where is Santa Claus? We wanted to see
him."

"Oh, to be sure," said the Brownie. "Come along," and he led them down
a long, winding walk, to the edge of the garden. Then he pointed to a
hill in the distance.

"Do you see that large white house? There is where he lives."

The children stared at it. It was so white that it seemed to shine in
the distance.

"Walk right across here," said the Brownie, "then up the hill to Santa
Claus's house."

"Oh, must we walk across there?" said Margaret. She stared down at
the deep dark chasm between the garden and the hill; across it was
stretched a narrow plank.

"Walk carefully," said the Brownie, "and mind you don't look down; for
i