and then to crow. "It's all right," said Santa Claus. "This is the doll-baby I gave Betsey, and it is not at all delicate. It went through the measles, and the chicken-pox, and the mumps, and the whooping-cough, before it left the North Pole. Now get into the sledge, Jimmy Scarecrow, and bring the doll-baby and the crazy quilt. I have never had any quilts that weren't in their right minds at the North Pole, but maybe I can cure this one. Get in!" Santa chirruped to his reindeer, and they drew the sledge up close in a beautiful curve.
"Get in, Jimmy Scarecrow, and come with me to the North Pole!" he cried. "Please, how long shall I stay?" asked Jimmy Scarecrow. "Why, you are going to live with me," replied Santa Claus. "I've been looking for a person like you for a long time."
"Are there any crows to scare away at the North Pole? I want to be useful," Jimmy Scarecrow said, anxiously.
"No," answered Santa Claus, "but I don't want you to scare away crows. I want you to scare away Arctic Explorers. I can keep you in work for a thousand years, and scaring away Arctic Explorers from the North Poleis much more important than scaring away crows from corn. Why, if they found the Pole, there wouldn't be a piece an inch long left in a week's time, and the earth would cave in like an apple without a core! They would whittle it all to pieces, and carry it away in their pockets forsouvenirs. Come along; I am in a hurry."
"I will go on two conditions," said Jimmy. "First, I want to make a present to Aunt Hannah and Betsey, next Christmas."
"You shall make them any present you choose. What else?"
"I want some way provided to scare the crows out of the corn next summer, while I am away," said Jimmy.
"That is easily managed," said Santa Claus. "Just wait a minute."
Santa took his stylographic pen out of his pocket, went with his lantern close to one of the fence-posts, and wrote these words upon it:
NOTICE TO CROWS
Whichever crow shall hereafter hop, fly, or flop into this field during the absence of Jimmy Scarecrow, and therefrom purloin, steal, or abstract corn, shall be instantly, in a twinkling and a trice, turned snow-white, and be ever after a disgrace, a byword and a reproach to his whole race. Per order of Santa Claus.
"The corn will be safe now," said Santa Claus, "get in." Jimmy got into the sledge and they flew away over the fields, out of sight, with merry halloos and a great clamour of bells.
The next morning there was much surprise at the farmhouse, when Aunt Hannah and Betsey looked out of the window and the Scarecrow was not in the field holding out his stiff arms over the corn stubble. Betsey had told Aunt Hannah she had given away the crazy quilt and the doll-baby,but had been scolded very little.
"You must not give away anything of yours again without asking permission," said Aunt Hannah. "And you have no right to give anything of mine, even if you know I don't want it. Now both my pretty quilt and your beautiful doll-baby are spoiled."
That was all Aunt Hannah had said. She thought she would send John after the
quilt and the doll-baby next morning as soon as it was light.
But Jimmy Scarecrow was gone, and the crazy quilt and the doll-baby with him. John, the servant-man, searched everywhere, but not a trace of them could he find. "They must have all blown away, mum," he said to Aunt Hannah.
"We shall have to have another scarecrow next summer," said she.
But the next summer there was no need of a scarecrow, for not a crow came past the fence-post on which Santa Claus had written his notice to crows. The cornfield was never so beautiful, and not a single grain was stolen by a crow, and everybody wondered at it, for they could not read the crow-language in which Santa had written.
"It is a great mystery to me why the crows don't come into our cornfield, when there is no scarecrow," said Aunt Hannah.
But she had a still greater mystery to solve when Christmas came round again. Then she and Betsey had each a strange present. They found the mint he sitting-room on Christmas morning. Aunt Hannah's present was her old crazy quilt, remodelled, with every piece cut square and true, and matched exactly to its neighbour.
"Why, it's my old crazy quilt, but it isn't crazy now!" cried Aunt Hannah, and her very spectacles seemed to glisten with amazement.
Betsey's present was her doll-baby of the Christmas before; but the doll was a year older. She had grown an inch, and could walk and say,"mamma," and "how do?" She was changed a good deal, but Betsey knew her at once. "It's my doll-baby!" she cried, and snatched her up and kissed her.
But neither Aunt Hannah nor Betsey ever knew that the quilt and the doll were Jimmy Scarecrow's Christmas presents to them.
Little Girl’s Christmas
(Winnifred E. Lincoln)
It was Christmas Eve, and Little Girl had just hung up her stocking by the fireplace–right where it would be all ready for Santa when he slipped down the chimney. She knew he was coming, because–well, because it was Christmas Eve, and because he always had come to leave gifts for her on all the other Christmas Eves that she could remember, and because she had seen his pictures everywhere down town that afternoon when she was out with Mother.
Still, she wasn’t JUST satisfied. ‘Way down in her heart she was a little uncertain–you see, when you have never really and truly seen a person with your very own eyes, it’s hard to feel as if you exactly believed in him–even though that person always has left beautiful gifts for you every time he has come.
“Oh, he’ll come,” said Little Girl; “I just know he will be here before morning, but somehow I wish–”
“Well, what do you wish?” said a Tiny Voice close by her–so close that Little Girl fairly jumped when she heard it.
“Why, I wish I could SEE Santa myself. I’d just like to go and see his house and his workshop, and ride in his sleigh, and know Mrs. Santa–‘twould be such fun, and then I’d KNOW for sure.”
“Why don’t you go, then?” said Tiny Voice. “It’s easy enough. Just try on these Shoes, and take this Light in your hand, and you’ll find your way all right.”
So Little Girl looked down on the hearth, and there were two cunning little Shoes side by side, and a little Spark of a Light close to them–just as if they were all made out of one of the glowing coals of the wood-fire. Such cunning Shoes as they were–Little Girl could hardly wait to pull off her slippers and try them on. They looked as if they were too small, but they weren’t–they fitted exactly right, and just as Little Girl had put them both on and had taken the Light in her hand, along came a little Breath of Wind, and away she went up the chimney, along with ever so many other little Sparks, past the Soot Fairies, and out into the Open Air, where Jack Frost and the Star Beams were all busy at work making the world look pretty for Christmas.
Away went Little Girl–Two Shoes, Bright Light, and all–higher and higher, until she looked like a wee bit of a star up in the sky. It was the funniest thing, but she seemed to know the way perfectly, and didn’t have to stop to make inquiries anywhere. You see it was a straight road all the way, and when one doesn’t have to think about turning to the right or the left, it
