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“Yes, I am,” said the White Rocking Horse. “Real jolly, I call it! I never saw a Christmas tree before.”

“You haven’t really seen this one yet,” went on the Sawdust Doll. “Has he, Jumping Jack?” she asked.

“Indeed I should say not,” was the reply. “It has not been lighted as yet. I well remember the first Christmas tree I was put on. I was a gay, jumping chap then. My spring wasn’t broken. But I am not going to talk about that. This is no time for sadness. Only, when the tree is lighted to-morrow night, Rocking Horse, you will see something very pretty. Will he not, Sawdust Doll?”

“He certainly will! And now, please tell me about my friends in the store,” she begged. “How are the Bold Tin Soldier and the Calico Clown?”

“Each sent you his love,” said the White Horse. “And the Candy Rabbit, the Lamb on Wheels and the Monkey on a Stick–each and every one wanted to be remembered to you.”

“That was very kind of them, I’m sure,” said the Sawdust Doll. “But tell me–have you had any fun since I left?”

“Oh, a little,” was the answer. “Only last night the Elephant, who borrowed some roller skates, started to race with me,” said the Rocking Horse. “We got as far as the elevators, but one of his skates came off. We started back and then the watchman came in and spoiled the fun.”

“What a shame!” cried the Sawdust Doll. “I wish I had been there to see. But I am so glad you have come to live here.”

“Is it a nice place?” asked the Horse.

“Oh, the very nicest!” exclaimed the Sawdust Doll. “Dorothy is such a kind mistress to me. And you will find her brother Dick a kind master, too. I suppose you are going to belong to him.”

“Well, I haven’t really heard much about it,” said the Horse. “A number of boys came into the store and tried to ride me. One gave me some hard kicks in my side–so hard that I was afraid all my paint would come off. But a girl in the store oiled me, and I am all right again. I think I remember Dick.”

“Yes, he was in the store once, when. Dorothy’s mother brought her little girl in to look at dolls, and I was the one the mother picked out because I had such brown eyes.”

“Nice brown eyes, I think she said,” cried the Rocking Horse.

“Well, of course it would not do for me to say that,” said the Sawdust Doll, smiling. “At any rate, here we two are, together, and in a happy home, and I am glad of it.”

“So am I,” the Rocking Horse said.

“And I am, too,” came from the Jumping Jack. “If it had not been for you, my rocking friend,” he went on, “I might be still dust-covered and in the attic.” So the toys under the Christmas tree talked among themselves and even moved about a little, but not too much, for they could not tell at what moment some one might come in.

And in the night Christmas came. The toys under the tree knew it just as well as if they had been real persons. They knew Santa Claus a great deal better than most real persons, too, having been made in the North Pole shop of St. Nicholas.

“Well, you will soon have Dick riding on your back,” said the Sawdust Doll to the Rocking Horse as, together, they waited beneath the green tree. “I can see the morning light coming over the hills. And I heard Dorothy and Dick saying yesterday that they were going to get up, even before the sun, to see what Santa Claus had brought them.”

“He certainly brought them a fine lot of presents,” remarked the Jumping Jack, in a sort of rusty, squeaking voice. “I hope–“

“Hush! Here they come, now!” whispered the Sawdust Doll.