"But why won't he bring it, Auntie?" demanded Georgie. "You say he
brings good boys what they want. I've been a good boy, ain't I?"
"'Deed you have. I wouldn't ask for a better one."
"Then why won't Santa bring me the gun?"
"Perhaps he'll think a gun isn't nice for such a little boy to have."
"But it is nice. It's nicer'n anything. If I'm good and I want it I
don't see why I can't have it. I think Santa's mean if he don't bring
it."
"Oh no, he isn't mean. Just think how good he is! He comes to every boy
and girl--"
"No, he don't."
"Why yes, he does. To every good little boy and girl."
"He never came to Patsy Leary that lived up on the lots in Middleboro.
Patsy said he didn't; he said there wasn't any Santa Claus, Patsy did."
"Hum! Perhaps Patsy wasn't good."
"Gee! Yes, he was. He can play baseball better'n any boy I know. And he
can lick any kid his size; he told me he could."
This crushing proof of young Leary's goodness was a staggerer for
Thankful. Before she could think of a reply Georgie asked another
question.
"You say he'll come down the chimney?" he queried.
"Yes."
"The livin'-room chimney?"
"Yes, probably."
"No, he won't."
"Georgie!"
"How can he? He's so fat; he's ever so fat in the pictures. How can he
get through the stovepipe?"
Mrs. Barnes' answer was evasive and Georgie noticed the evasion.
However, his trust in his Aunt Thankful was absolute and if she said
a fat man could get through a stovepipe he probably could.
Pages:
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313