don't suppose," he
added, reflectively, "that I could scrape up enough to feed the chickens
this mornin', but I guess I might's well see."

He passed over to the little building. What he saw when he looked within
seemed for a moment to produce no impression upon him whatever. He
stared at the hillock of grain in motionless silence.

Finally Mr. Roney gave utterance to a single word, "Geewhilikins!" and
started for the house on a run. Into the kitchen, where his wife was
just starting the fire, the excited man burst like a whirlwind.

"Come out here, Mary!" he cried. "Come out here, quick!"

The worthy woman, unaccustomed to such demonstrations, looked at him in
amazement.

"For goodness sake, what's come over you, Peter Roney?" she exclaimed.
"Are you daft? Don't make such a noise! You'll wake the young ones, and
I don't want them waked till need be, with no Christmas for 'em, poor
little things!"

"Never mind the young 'uns," he replied. "Come on!"

As they passed out he noticed the slip of paper under the door and
picked it up, but without comment. He charged down upon the granary, his
wife, with a shawl over her head, close behind.

She peered in, apprehensively at first, then with eyes of widening
wonder.

"Why, Peter!" she said, turning to him. "Why, Peter! What does--I
thought----"

"You thought!" he broke in. "Me, too. But it ain't so. It means that
we've got some of the best neighbours that ever was, a thinkin' of our
young 'uns this way! Read that!" and he thrust the paper into her hand.

"Why, Peter!" she ejaculated again, weakly. Then suddenly she turned,
and laying her head on his shoulder, began to sob softly.

"There, there," he said, patting her arm awkwardly. "Don't you go and
cry now. Let's just be thankful to the good Lord for puttin' such
fellers into the world as them fellers down the road. And now you run in
and hurry up breakfast while I do up the chores. Then we'll hitch up and
get into town 'fore the stores close. Tell the young 'uns Santy didn't
get round last night with their things, but we've got word to meet him
in town. Hey? Yes, I saw just the kind of sled Pete wants when I was up
yesterday, and that china doll for Mollie. Yes, tell 'em anything you
want. 'Twon't be too big. Santy Claus has come to Roney's ranch this
year, sure!"

FOOTNOTE:

[X] This story was first printed in the _Youth's Companion_, vol. 76.

XXXIII

LITTLE GRETCHEN AND THE WOODEN SHOE[Y]

EL