t very night he drove off
with his sleigh packed full of toys for all the puppies in the world. In
fact, he was so pleased that he loaded his big bag with more toys than
he had ever carried before. And that was how a queer thing happened."

They waited in eager suspense.

"You know, Santa Claus always drives into the Canine Estates by the
little back road through the woods, where the chipmunk lives. You know
the gateway, at the bend in the lane: well, it's rather narrow, and
Santa Claus's sleigh is very wide. And this time, because his bag had
so many toys in it, the bag bulged over the edge of the sleigh, and one
corner of the bag caught on the gatepost as he drove by. Three toys fell
out, and what do you suppose they were?"

"An aunbile!"

"An elphunt!"

"A typewriter!"

"Yes, that's quite right. And it happened that the chipmunk was out
that night, digging up some nuts for his Christmas dinner, a little sad
because he had no presents to give his children; and he found the
three toys. He took them home to the little chipmunks, and they were
tremendously pleased. That was only fair, because if it hadn't been
for the chipmunk and his radio set, no one would have had any toys that
Christmas."

"Did Santa Claus have any more typewriters in his bag?" asked Yelpers
gravely.

"Oh, yes, he had plenty more of everything. And when he got to the house
where Groups and Bunks and Yelpers lived, he slid down the chimney and
took a look round. He didn't see any crumbs on the floor, or any toys
lying about not put away, so he filled the stockings with all kinds of
lovely things, and an aunbile and an elphunt and a typewriter."

"What did the puppies say?" they inquired.

"They were sound asleep upstairs, and didn't know anything about it
until Christmas morning. Come on now, it's time for bed."

"We can undress ourselves now," said Groups.

"Will you tuck me in?" said Bunks.

"You're sure he had another typewriter in his bag?" said Yelpers.

They scrambled upstairs.

Later, when the house was quiet, Gissing went out to the kitchen to see
Mrs. Spaniel. She was diligently rolling pastry, and her nose was white
with flour.

"Oh, sir, I'm glad you got home in time for Christmas," she said. "The
children were counting on it. Did you have a successful trip, sir?"

"Every trip is successful when you get home again," said Gissing. "I
suppose the shops will be open late to-night, won't they? I'm going to
run down to the