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Jem blushed a little.

“I was not quite sure that–that you were true, sir. At least I have not been quite sure since I have been older.”

S.C. rubbed the bald part of his head and gave a little sigh.

“I hope I have not hurt your feelings, sir,” faltered Jem, who was a very kind hearted little soul.

“Well, no,” said S.C. “Not exactly. And it is not your fault either. It is natural, I suppose; at any rate, it is the way of the world. People lose their belief in a great many things as they grow older; but that does not make the things not true, thank goodness! and their faith often comes back after a while. But, bless me!” he added, briskly, “I’m moralizing, and who thanks a man for doing that? Suppose–“

“Black eyes or blue, sir?” said a tiny voice close to them.

Jem and Flora turned round, and saw it was one of the small workers who was asking the question.

“Whom for?” inquired S.C.

“Little girl in the red brick house at the corner,” said the workwoman; “name of Birdie.”

“Excuse me a moment,” said S.C. to the children, and he turned to the big book and began to run his fingers down the pages in a business-like manner. “Ah! here she is!” he exclaimed at last. “Blue eyes, if you please, Thistle, and golden hair. And let it be a big one. She takes good care of them.”

“Yes, sir,” said Thistle; “I am personally acquainted with several dolls in her family. I go to parties in her dolls’ house sometimes when she is fast asleep at night, and they all speak very highly of her. She is most attentive to them when they are ill. In fact, her pet doll is a cripple, with a stiff leg.”

She ran back to her work and S.C. finished his sentence.

“Suppose I show you my establishment,” he said. “Come with me.”

It really would be quite impossible to describe the wonderful things he showed them. Jem’s head was quite in a whirl before she had seen one-half of them, and even Baby condescended to become excited.

“There must be a great many children in the world, Mr. Claus,” ventured Jem.

“Yes, yes, millions of ’em; bless ’em,” said S.C., growing rosier with delight at the very thought. “We never run out of them, that’s one comfort. There’s a large and varied assortment always on hand. Fresh ones every year, too, so that when one grows too old there is a new one ready. I have a place like this in every twelfth chimney. Now it’s boys, now it’s girls, always one or t’other; and there’s no end of playthings for them, too, I’m glad to say. For girls, the great thing seems to be dolls. Blitzen! what comfort they do take in dolls! but the boys are for horses and racket.”

They were standing near a table where a worker was just putting the finishing touch to the dress of a large wax doll, and just at that moment, to Jem’s surprise, she set it on the floor, upon its feet, quite coolly.

“Thank you,” said the doll, politely.

Jem quite jumped.

“You can join the rest now and introduce yourself,” said the worker.

The doll looked over her shoulder at her train.

“It hangs very nicely,” she said. “I hope it’s the latest fashion.”

“Mine never talked like that,” said Flora. “My best one could only say ‘Mamma,’ and it said it very badly, too.”

“She was foolish for saying it at all,” remarked the doll, haughtily. “We don’t talk and walk before ordinary people; we keep our accomplishments for our own amusement, and for the amusement of our friends. If you should chance to get up in the middle of the night, some time, or should run into the room suddenly some day, after you have left it, you might hear–but what is the use of talking to human beings?”

“You know a great deal, considering you are only just finished,” snapped Baby, who really was a Tartar.