“I wouldn't wonder. Yes, sir. There he goes now. Sure's you're alive.” “Where?” “Right over yan. Aw, you don't look. See? There he is. Aw! you're too slow. Didn't you see him? Now the next time I tell you--Look, look! There! He run right acrost the floor an' into the closet. Plain 's day. didn't you see him? You saw him, mother?” Mrs. Allgire nodded her head. She was busy counting the stitches in a nubia she was knitting for old Aunt Pashy, Roebuck. “W'y, you couldn't help but see him, didn't you take notice to his white whiskers?” “Ye-es,” said the child, slowly, with the wide-open stare of hypnosis. “Didn't you see the evergreen tree he carried?” “M-hm,” said Eddie, the image taking shape in his mind's eye. “And his brown coat all trimmed with fur, an' his funny peaked hat? An' his red nose? W'y, course you did.” The boy nodded his head. He was sure now. Yes. Faith was lost in sight. He believed. “I expect he's in the closet now. Go look.” “No. You.” He clung to D. “I can't. I got this flat-iron in my lap, an' wouldn't spill the nut-shells all over the floor. You don't want me to, do you, Ma?” Mrs. Allgire shook her head. “Well, now,” said D. “Anybody tell you they ain't sich a person as Santy Claus, you kin jist stand 'em down 'at you know better, 'cause you seen him, didn't you?” Eddie nodded his head. Anyhow, what D. told him was “the Lord said unto Moses,” and now that he had the evidence of his own eyes--Well, the next day he defied Bunt Rogers and all his works. To tell the plain truth, Bunt wasn't too well grounded in his newly cut infidelity. In the public schools the children were no longer singing: “None knew thee but to love thee, thou dear one of my heart; Oh, thy mem'ry is ever fresh and green. The sweet buds may wither and fond hearts be broken, Still I love thee, my darling, Daisy Deane.” They turned over now to page 53, and there was a picture of Santa Claus just as in Plotner's window, except that he had a pack on his back and one leg in the chimney. This is what they sang: “Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn't go? Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn't go? Up on the house-top, click, click, click Down through the chimney with good St. Nick.”