“There!” she cried gaily, jumping down from the window-sill, where, being quite short, she had had to kneel while she worked,—“There! I really think that will stay on!” As she spoke, she found the bit of wood in her pocket. “I wonder why I kept that?” she thought. “Never mind! I shall want to have something to remember the Wooden Cow by.” “I am indebted to you,” said the Wooden Cow, with dignity. “Now,” said Bab, “I shall have to go up to Santa Claus’s house, and call upon him. I’ll leave Wiggles to take care of you in case those bad Brownies come back. Wiggles, sit down and keep watch!” Wiggles did as he was told, rather sadly. He hated to be left alone, and he did not count the Cow as company. Bab left the barn, and hurried away toward the lighted cottage, which she felt very sure was Santa Claus’s house. When she reached the house, she knocked several times before anyone answered. At last the door opened, and a kind, merry voice said: “Come in, come in! Is that Bab? Why, bless my soul! I’ve been expecting you for a long time!” It certainly was Santa Claus! How exactly like his pictures he looked! No, kinder, and dearer, and more lovable in every way. Bab wanted to get onto his knee at once, and put her head down on his shoulder, just as though he were her own grandfather at home. And as a matter of fact, that is just exactly what she did! For as soon as she had gone inside and the door had been shut, Santa Claus sat down in a big chair and lifted her onto his lap. “Bless my soul!” he said again, beaming at her. “So you are the little girl who didn’t believe in me, and thought I’d be a bore if I _were_ real? Mother Goose—dear lady!—said that you’d be along before very long.” Bab dropped her head onto his shoulder, and said, “I—I’m very sorry I said those things about you!” “Bless my soul!” exclaimed Santa Claus. “She’s crying! That will _never_ do!” “I’m sleepy!” Bab gave a sob. She was only a little girl, you see, after all; and the way through the Wonderful Wood had been long. “And—and—” She stopped, trying not to _really_ cry. “Dear me! And _hungry!_” cried Santa Claus. “I should think so!” And somehow, before she knew what had happened, she found herself eating,—bread and butter, and milk, and little hot cakes, and muffins, and preserves, and sugar-plums! _Such_ a good supper! “Please,” said Bab, suddenly, “let me take some to Wiggles. He’s hungry, I know; and he’s in the barn, taking care of the Wooden Cow.” “What’s that you say?” questioned Santa Claus, looking surprised. And then Bab told him all about the rescue of the Wooden Cow. And Santa Claus was much pleased and interested, and seemed very grateful as well. And he went down to the barn himself, and brought Wiggles back with him, and gave him a wonderful supper, and said he was a splendid dog. And Wiggles was simply delighted. Altogether, everything was going on in the most joyful manner possible, when Bab suddenly sprang to her feet, distressed and worried.