es out, Go on, Santa. You'll make a jolly boy.

Down goes Santa Claus on his hands and knees, and crawls under the
table. When he comes out on the other end, he is a little roley poley
boy, smaller and fatter than any of the others, and dressed in white
with red trimmings. All the others join hands with him in a circle,
and they swing around gleefully.

Now for a game of "Follow my leader," shouts WALTER. I'll be leader;
come after me.

Off Walter starts around the room, the others following, first
Gertrude, then the brownies and the fairies, then the others, with
Santa Claus bringing up the rear. They go over the wood box, onto a
chair and down again, and at last Walter dives under the table, in the
opposite direction to that in which the magic change was made. The
children, the brownies, and the fairies go through without any change,
of course, but the other five all come out in their original form.
They stand up straightening their clothes, Mother and Grandmother
setting their hair to rights. Meantime, while the children are
occupied watching the transformations of their parents and
grandparents, the brownies and fairies go back into the box and
basket, and pull the lids down after them.

I'm all out of breath, exclaims FATHER, panting.

So am I, says GRANDMOTHER; but what fun it was.

I wouldn't have missed it for a thousand dollars, MOTHER declares.

Nor I, echoes GRANDFATHER. Even now, although I've got my old body
back again, I declare I feel as young as a boy inside.

Oh, Santa Claus, cries GERTRUDE, you were the dearest, funniest
little boy I ever saw. It just made me laugh to look at you.

Hush! says SANTA CLAUS, looking cautiously over his shoulder, I
hope you won't let any one know how foolish I looked and acted. What
would people say, if they heard that a man hundreds of years old like
me, has been romping around that way?

Why, Santa Claus, says WALTER, everybody would think it was fine.

Do you think so? asks SANTA CLAUS, looking around from one to the
other.

Of course, they would, answers FATHER. The fact is they'd love you
all the more for it, if that's possible.

Dear Santa Claus, you don't mind my laughing at you, do you? says
GERTRUDE; because you were funny, you know.

Well--no--I guess I don't mind much, SANTA CLAUS answers. In fact,
the more I think of it, the more I think myself that it was funny. Ho!
Ho! Ho! Only so high (he measures the height with his hand) and as
fat as but