Owen Oliver

“ Mother says we shall be a regular Santa Claus family—Mr. Santa Claus and Miss Santa Claus, and Mrs. Santa Claus and all the little Santa Clauses; and when I said, “You’ve left out darling daddy,” she laughed at me.
“Daddy,” she said, “is all the Santa Clauses rolled into one; and—and—” do you know, mother blushed like a girl, and looked like one—“I’ve my own pet name for daddy, and I shan’t tell you, and I won’t call him anything else, not even in fun!”
I think daddy and mummy are more than Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. They love doing things for everybody all the year round. ”

“ Santa Claus.
Yes, dears. It is a funny Christmas with daddy away. Poor old daddy! So far from us all, and working so hard to try to make money for us! Do you know, I expect he is more worried at being unable to send us money to buy “Santa Clauses” with than we are at going without them. ”

“ I don’t think there can be such a lady. Miss Santa Claus was so very lovely.
“Try to find her?” Of course I have! There’s a man making inquiries now. If you don’t see me at the Christmas dinner to-morrow you'll know I’ve heard of Miss Santa Claus and gone off to see her. If real things happened properly, like they do in stories, she ought to have a little boy who wants a Santa Claus, and I ought to be Mr. Santa Claus to him, don’t you think?
Now it’s half-past bedtime! I'll carry Eva and Bob, and mummy can take Boy. Up you go. ”

“ Santa Claus picked me up and sat in the armchair and hugged me, and his beard came off, and he was the beautiful, beautiful lady from next door!
“Sissy will get well,” she told me; “and you shall come in and play with me this afternoon. I love playing horses!” ”

“ An aunt took him away the next day, and they gave me a wrong address, and my letter came back; and next month I went off to marry daddy, and I have never seen the little boy since. I expect he’s forgotten Miss Santa Claus. it’s twenty years ago, and he was very young. If he hasn’t, I’m afraid he won’t be able to marry anyone, unless he finds Miss Sissy Santa Claus. ... If life went like stories that is just what would happen. I don’t believe any girl was ever so like her mother as you are, Sis—like I was, I mean. ... You dear silly! I’m just an old Mrs. Santa Claus now. ”

“ Stop, stop, stop, children! You’ll make your old mother vainer than ever! No, no, no! Mercy! I won’t say “old.” Your young mother. Of course I’m young with you all around me. Still it’s a different sort of young, you know. ”