urple City, we associate with the Sun and Moon and the Dragon that
swallows the Sun. The Sacred Lotus is our flower, and at the feast the
heavens are made to shine on us!"

Lucy's face shone too, just to hear the words of the mysterious little
"Washee-washee-wang,"--in fact she had been radiant ever since she had
first thought of making a Santa Claus of him. She wondered how he would
look to her mother's friends on Christ Child night, wearing his
"celestial" robes.

The children were to have their own tree on Christmas eve, at the church
among the evergreens and music, and Sky-High was to accompany them in
his black clothes and white ruffles. The Christmas night tree was always
at home, for Mrs. Van Buren and her friends.

Little Lucy was to lead the Christmas night jollities, and only the
Santa Claus himself knew what would follow the wave of the long Chinese
wand which she carried.

The guests gathered early--half a dozen ladies--for it was to be a
story-telling evening.

Promptly at the moment when Lucy waved for him, little Sky-High came
into the parlors fanning slowly with his great ceremonial fan, as if
entering some languid pagoda garden of his native land. Every guest
leaned forward to gaze at the gorgeous stranger. His silk stockings
were white, over black shoes with silver buckles and whitened soles.
His robe sparkled gaily with the dragon and lotus, and the butterfly on
his gold-banded cap shook its jeweled wings with every step. He wore a
sash of gems which the family had not seen before. He moved before the
company like a figure of sunshine.

Little Lucy had come to his side. "I have the great felicity," she
began--she had got the fine word from Sky-High--"to have a celestial
Santa Claus, a wang from China, to serve you the gifts from the Good
Will tree."

The glittering wang bowed to the four corners of the earth, then to all,
turning round and round in dazzling circles.

No, Mrs. Van Buren's Christmas guests had never seen a Santa Claus like
this one! All eyes were wide with pleased wonder.

"Isn't he perfectly splendid?" whispered Lucy, tripping over to the wife
of the rector.

"He is indeed, dear," said the rector's wife; and added low to her
neighbor, "Is it not their wonderful house-boy?"

No one was certain. And no one, excepting Lucy and the Santa Claus, knew
what were the gifts on the Good Will tree. Lucy and little Sky-High had
bought them in Boston. All those for the guests were blu