“What is the matter?” asked Santa Claus, kindly. “Oh, Santa Claus!” cried poor Bab. “I had forgotten my errand again! Mother Goose sent me to you to serve you until I had won the right to go back to the Real World!” “Dear, dear!” said Santa Claus, with twinkling eyes. “And do you want to start to-night?” “No,” said Bab, reproachfully. “No,—indeed! But,” anxiously, “tell me what I am to do, Santa Claus. You see, now I sha’n’t be doing it _only_ because Mother Goose told me I must, but because you have been so kind to Wiggles and me!” Then Santa Claus gazed at her with such wonderful kindness in his smile that she felt almost bewildered. “Little Bab,” he said gently, “don’t you see that you have won your freedom already, if you want it, by what you did for my Wooden Cow?” “But—but—” stammered Bab, very much surprised, “I didn’t do it for _that_ reason!” “I know it. And that is just why it sets you free,” said Santa Claus. “And now go to sleep. To-morrow you may go back to Mother Goose.” Bab felt very sleepy. The firelight was flickering drowsily about the room. She and Wiggles were curled up on a big fur rug that lay beside the hearth. Santa Claus’s face smiled at her in the dancing, fading red light. “Good-night, Bab,” he said. “Good-night, Santa Cl—” Then she and Wiggles went fast asleep by the big fire in the house of Santa Claus. [Illustration] VII _Meg’s Journey to Fairyland_ [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER VII _Meg’s Journey to Fairyland_ Now we must leave Bab for a little while, and go back to her sister Meg, whom we left on the edge of the Wonderful Wood. “It’s all nonsense!” said Meg to herself, as she entered the big forest. She turned to speak to Bab, but of course found herself quite alone. She rubbed her eyes and looked about her wonderingly. It was all nonsense, undoubtedly, but—where were the others? She felt just a wee bit frightened. It was rather creepy, really,—this being alone in the Wonderful Wood. Well, the only thing to do was to hurry and get out of it, as fast as she possibly could. She wheeled around, but soon saw, as Bab had seen, that the forest had closed in behind her, and that there was nothing to do but go on. So on she went. She found the path fairly smooth and easy, and her spirits rose. She walked faster and faster, and even sang to herself as she went. She had forgotten all about her errand, all about the Fairy Queen and Mother Goose and Humpty Dumpty. She simply danced along the pretty, shady wood-path, and hummed little songs, and wondered how long it would be before she was out of the forest. Meg was younger than Bab, you see, and even more thoughtless, and so she had all the more to learn and all the farther to go. And it came about that she had walked twice as far as Bab’s whole journey had been, before anything befell her that was at all like an adventure. But when it _did_ happen—Well, it was this way: