Lizzie turned and looked at me and uttered a cry of fear, and began to run. Her clothes had a strange rustle, and I could scarcely see her in the darkness. She seemed to run up a stairway into the snowy air, and was out of sight in a jiffy. Then I could hear her screaming to me in a dark tree-top, as if she saw something terrible. “Look out, Cricket! Look out! Look out!” I was in a panic of fear, knowing not the peril that threatened me. I struggled through the drifts and ran till I 'could see the lights of the village. The sight allayed my fear a little. I had heard that hymn-singing was good in time of peril, and I began to walk and sing, with a trembling voice, the Christmas hymn which my mother had lately taught me. Soon I knelt for a moment in the snow and said my prayers. Then I rose and ran on, singing as I went, and thought less of my peril. Soon teams began to pass me, coming and going, and my fear was gone. I felt for my horruck. It was in my pocket, all right, and the feel of it began to fill me with wonder. I forgot it when I came to one of the stores, and entered behind the legs of a tall man, and stopped before a basket of oranges, and stood looking down at them. There were a number of people in the store. “Would you like one?” a man asked me. “I--I haven't any money,” was my answer. “Put one in your pocket,” he whispered; “they wouldn't know.” I shook my head, and answered in a voice so low that he held his ear down to catch the words: “It doesn't belong to me.” He lifted me in his arms and asked my name, and I gave it, and told him that I was out looking for Santa Claus. “Isn't he coming to your house?” the man asked. I shook my head. “Why not?” “'Cause it's hard times,” I whispered, Well, it was the storekeeper himself, and he kissed me and sat me on the counter and gave me fruits and candies. “Would you like to speak to Santa Claus?” he asked. I nodded, and my heart began to beat all the faster. He went to the rear end of the store and returned quickly with a stout, gray-headed man in a big fur overcoat. I recognized the figure, and was almost overcome with emotion. The thought of my mission bore me up. With a trembling hand I took from my pocket the little green book which my grandmother had given to me, and which was, indeed, my greatest treasure. I had removed it slyly from the bureau drawer that morning. I held it toward him. No human being ever offered more to charity. “That's a Christmas present for you,” I said, fearfully. He took my little book, and read the title on its green paper cover aloud. I spoke up faintly as soon as he had finished, saying, “My grandmother gave it to me--you can have it.” “Thanks,” said he, and laughed, which so took me down that I could not keep back my tears. “Are you a good boy?” he asked. “He's one of the best boys in the county, and I'm going to keep track of him,” said the storekeeper, and I was glad, for I was not able to answer.