LITMIR.BIZ

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Van Ruypen laughed again, and this time it seemed as if she were not going to stop. And pretty soon the whole room looked as if Santa Claus himself had been there with his load, while as for the babel of voices,—well, it was exactly like a flock of blackbirds all chattering together.

      "You said they were going to poor children," said Polly, at last, flying up to the tall figure that now it seemed as if they had known all their lives. "Oh, do tell us about it."

      "So I will." Madam Van Ruypen swept off the articles from a big easy-chair, preparatory to sitting down.

      "Let me!" said Ben, coming up in his slow way. But the toys were half off, and Polly had gathered up the rest, and the big figure was already in the chair.

      "You see," she began—

      "Oh, would you please wait?" begged Polly, in great distress, looking over across the room where Joel and David were deep in the charms of some mechanical toy.

      "Yes, to be sure," said Madam Van Ruypen, good naturedly, while Polly ran over to them. "Boys, come!" she cried hurriedly.

      "Something's the matter with this pig," said Joel, not looking at her, and fussing with the animal in question.

      "Well, put it down," said Polly, impatiently. "She's going to tell us what she wants us to do."

      "Then Dave'll get my pig," said Joel, with one eye askance at that individual.

      "Oh, no, he won't touch it; will you, Davie?" said Polly. "Do put it down, Joe, and come along."

      "No, I won't," said David, "touch it a single bit." So Joel laid the pig carefully down, and the two boys hurried after Polly.

      Madam Van Ruypen now began again.

      "Phronsie ought to hear," said Joel, as he crowded up.

      "Hush," said Ben, looking over at her where she still sat absorbed in the big doll; "you let her be, Joel, and keep still."

      "I have had so much trouble over every Christmas," said Madam Van Ruypen, proceeding briskly, "selecting presents for some children I happen to know about, who ought to have them, that really I sometimes wish there wasn't any Christmas."

      Wish there wasn't any Christmas! Every one of the Peppers who heard those direful words tumbled back in dismay and gazed at her in amazement.

      "I really did, but I don't now!" Madam Van Ruypen drew a long breath, then she laughed again. "Well, here we are, and this Christmas I mean to have an easy time, for I'm not to select a single thing myself, but put all the responsibility on you young people."

      "Do you really mean," cried Polly Pepper, crowding up quite closely, with flushed cheeks, "that we can pick out the toys and things for you to give to your poor children? Oh, do you mean it?"

      "To be sure, bless you, yes; why, that is just why I got you over here, and what I've had this room turned into a toy-shop for." She waved her long, white hands over at the array.

      "Oh, oh, Joel," Polly seized the arm next to her and gave it a little tweak, "do begin, for she wants us to pick out the things she is to send to the poor children. I'm going to choose that work-box, and that backgammon board, and—" and Polly ran off and was deep in a dozen things at once.

      "Hoh, I'm not," said Joel, who couldn't bear backgammon; "I'm going to choose my pig, when I fix him so he'll squeak, and my steam-engine. Yes, sir! that's the best of all."

      And immediately the entire room was in a bustle.

      Ben turned off with the others, but presently came slowly back to stand a minute at Madam Van Ruypen's chair, where she sat with folded hands.

      "Well, what is it?" she asked, looking up into his face.

      "Were you picking out toys for the poor children when we saw you yesterday?" asked Ben, looking at her steadily.

      "Dear me, yes; what do you suppose could have induced me to go into such a mob?" cried Madam Van Ruypen.

      "Oh!" said Ben, then he turned back and set to work on doing what he could to pick out the things he should want if he were really a poor boy, not likely to get presents in any other way.

      But the nicest of all things, so he thought,—thick boots, mittens, and fur tippets to keep out the cold,—were not there, and he stifled a sigh, and gave his mind to do the best he could under the circumstances.

      "Something is the matter, I see." He didn't know it, but there the old lady was, close by his side, and the next words showed clearly that she had discovered what was on his mind.

      "Out with it, Ben,—for that's your name, I believe."

      "Yes," said Ben, "it is."

      "Well, you might as well tell me, for I see very plainly that you don't think I've had the right things sent up from the stores. What would you send to poor children for their Christmas?"

      "I think a boy would like a pair of boots," said Ben, slowly; then he came to the conclusion that he might as well tell the whole, "or a thick coat, or some mittens, and a tippet."

      "But those wouldn't be Christmas presents; those are everyday things," said the old lady, sharply.

      "They wouldn't be his everyday things," said Ben, sturdily.

      "Oh, perhaps that is so," said Madam Van Ruypen, thoughtfully. "Well, let us see." She took up some books, whirled the pages a minute, to give herself time to think, then she pushed them all away impatiently. "You go on, and choose what you think some boys would like out of the things that are here, as we haven't any clothes among them," then she turned away, and swept back into her seat. And Ben, feeling very sure that the wrong thing had been said by him, set to work, as best he might, to do as she wanted.

      When the task was over, it seemed as if all the toys and gay articles had been chosen, every one!

      "They are all perfectly beautiful," sighed Polly, "and we can't leave any out."

      "So I am to send them all," said Madam Van Ruypen, much pleased to think that her experiment in having the things sent up was so approved, and looking around at them all.

      "Oh, yes, yes!" they cried, Joel especially vociferating that not a single one was to be omitted. Now that he had discovered the weak part in the pig's voice, and had fixed it to his satisfaction, everything was all right.

      "Please give her to the poor child," begged Phronsie, who had the whole thing explained to her by Polly, and coming up with very pink cheeks to hold as high as she could the big doll. "Oh, do, please do, and give it right away."

      "Oh, I shall not give it," said Madam Van Ruypen, decidedly.

      A quiver came into Phronsie's voice and her lip drooped, and she looked as if she were going to cry. "Please," she began.

      "Santa Claus is going to take it to her," said the old lady, making haste to explain when she saw Phronsie's face. "Don't you be afraid, child; the poor little girl will get her doll."

      "Oh, then I'm glad," said Phronsie, beginning to smile. And two little tears that were just starting out determined to go back again. Then she laughed gleefully. "Polly, Polly," she cried in great excitement, "the big lady is going to take it to the poor little girl; she is, Polly, she said so."

      "I shan't take it," said Madam Van Ruypen, nodding over to Polly; "the little girl won't know it's from me, but she will have it all the same."

      "Shan't you tell her you sent it?" demanded Joel, who had caught the words, and whirling around suddenly; "shan't you tell her about any of the things?" waving his hands in all directions.

      "Of course not," declared Madam Van Ruypen. "Dear me, not for the world, Joel, would I have them know where the things come from. The presents all go from Santa Claus."

      "Oh!" said Joel.

      "And now you don't know—you can't even guess," said Madam Van Ruypen, "what a load you have taken off my mind by coming here to help me."

      "Have we?" cried Polly, with glistening

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