The North Pole part was all bosh. John knew that well, thanks to his present sophistication. But the lure of the present set him to thinking. Couldn't he--providing of course that maternal permission was given--go down town and do his shopping Saturday afternoon and wander around the different toy displays to his heart's content? But there was the paper route. Blame the nuisance, anyway! He sprinted up to see Bill after supper. Would his chum make the deliveries if he gave him a list of the customers? John would be willing to pay a dime for the service. Silvey assented gladly, for ten-cent pieces were scarcities among the small boy population just before Christmas, when the display of penny and five-cent novelties in the school store window proved so tempting. Thus the difficulty was solved. Two o'clock the following day found John following the varied shopping crowd through the revolving doors of the biggest department store. Inside, the aisles were packed with a jostling, slowly moving throng. Fat, breathless hausfraus rubbed elbows with high-cheeked, almond-eyed Slav maidens, and tired office clerks took advantage of the half holiday to fill their shopping lists. Here, a well-dressed, clear-complexioned lady of leisure examined an expensive knickknack, there an Irish mother led her brood to the throng around the elevators that they might see Santa Claus. But they were all filled with a desire to buy, buy, buy, in the name of the Christmas Spirit, and buyers and department heads rubbed their hands gleefully as they watched the overworked clerks. John fought his way to the nearest floorman, a white-haired veteran of many such rush seasons. "Where's the neckties?" he asked. That employee looked down at him wearily. "Next to the last aisle--to your right." Past the silverware counter, past the women's gloves, past innumerable little booths with high-priced holiday trinkets, and past the fountain-pen display--at last the long, oval counter came in sight. Eager purchasers stood two and three deep around the spaces where goods were on display. Clerks hurried back and forth in response to the calls of the wrapping girls, and change carriers popped unceasingly from the pneumatic tubes. John plied his elbows vigorously and worked his way through the thickest of the crowd. Above him, hands grabbed feverishly at the tangled heap of ties on the counter top, while querulous voices requested instant attention from the sales force. One of the four-in-hands dropped over the edge. The boy seized upon it, fingered it, and threw the bit of goods back in the heap. Poor stuff that, even at a quarter. His mother's frequent dissertations upon silk samples which she had brought home had taught him that much. He waved a frantic hand to attract attention until a tall, spectacled clerk took pity on him. "Let's see a tie, a real one! Don't care if I have to pay a whole half-dollar for it!" "What color?"