“Do you know,” she said to him shyly, “I am really very glad I met you. You see, Willie Porter, he’s ten, and he knows much more than I do, or thinks he does,--well, he told me there wasn’t any Santa Claus. He hung up his stocking last Christmas, then he stayed awake all night to see if Santa Claus filled it. His papa and mama came into his room ever so many times in the night, but you never came near.” “Ah! I can explain that,” laughed Santa. “Willie Porter’s papa used to have a fine big open chimney and a lovely fireplace. Then I used to go there every Christmas. But now they’ve shut up the fireplace, so I can’t get down the chimney, and they’ve put in steam heat. Does Willie Porter think I can bring my gifts and crawl through a radiator?” And Santa Claus laughed till he shook like a jelly. “Ah, I see,” said Maida. “Well, as I have seen all the toys and had a most splendid time I s’pose I must be going, for I am in a hurry to get to the Wishing Post and grow up.” So she prepared to resume her journey but Santa Claus wouldn’t hear of it. “You haven’t seen all the toys,” he shouted. “The two best ones were just finished to-day. Come along with me and we’ll take a look at them.” So she went with him into a room she hadn’t seen before, but all she could see was two boxes. One was very tall and stood on end, the other was square, with green and yellow stripes on it. [Illustration: Out Popped Jack-in-the-Box] Maida began to peer about the square box with green and yellow stripes on it, when, all of a sudden, she touched a little button. The lid of the box flew open, and out popped the biggest Jack-in-the-Box she had ever seen. He must have been made of springs inside, for he leaned this way and that, and joggled up and down, till Maida thought he’d break in two. He was dressed in a long coat or shirt with pleats in it, just like the folding part of papa’s camera, and he looked very funny. “I feel just like a concertina,” he remarked. Maida ran to the other box, opened it, and out stepped a Candy Kid. He was much taller than Maida, his arms and legs were made of stick candy, his body was a large chocolate drop, and his head was a marshmallow. Before Maida realized what she was doing she picked off one of his fingers and ate it. The Candy Kid didn’t mind, but Santa Claus didn’t like it at all. He told her not to do anything of the sort again, and got some candy to make the Candy Kid another finger. “Oh, you beautiful little dolly,” sighed Jack-in-the-Box looking at Maida. “She isn’t a dolly,” said the Candy Kid. “I believe Santa Claus made her out of a charlotte russe,” for of course the Candy Kid thought Santa Claus made everything out of some kind of sweetmeats.