Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1870-12-29
A NIGHT WITH SANTA CLAUS.


Nor very long ago, and not very far
from here, lived little boy named Robby
Morgan. Now / must tell at once how
Robby.looked, else how will you know
him if you meet him in the street, And
| assure you that tho boy to whom such a
wonderful thing happened is north know
ing. Blue-eyed was Rob, and fair haired,
and pug-nosed, -just the sweetest tritle,
his mamma said but that small nose had
a story of its own to tell; Il know I'm
only mite of nose on mite of a boy,
but won't be snubbed by any of you
long sharp fellows If ever nose meant
to do its whole duty through thick and
thin, that little turn-up of Rob's did.
There you have my hero's face, and as
faces are but pictures of hearts, until peo-
pie grow up and teach their eyes and lips
to tell wrong stories,-you may know
about what kind of boy Rob was There
was world of mischief and pluck, of
goodness and naughtiness, jumbled togeth
er in that little heart; but after all there
was more looe than anything else,-love for
mamma and papa, Uncle George and
Santa Claus! All now we have come to
the story indeedl You know you often
nibble away at the crust of piece Of cake,
thinking ut isn't so very good after all, v
| until all at once you bite into raisin; 80
we have pibbled off the crust of my story,
and here we are among the raisins! Santa
Claus, childhoods blessed saint, to begin
with!
Well, the Gay before Christmas, Rob
thought it would be fine thing to run
down Main Street and see what was going
on; so after dinner mamma put on his fur
cap and bright scarf, and filled his pockets
with crackers and cookies, telling him to
| be very polite to Santa Claus IL he should
happen to meet him.
| Off he trotted, merry as cricket, now a
skip, now slide, longing to turn somer-
set in the snow, yet fearing that the Re
cording Angel, who keeps sharp lookout
on little boys at Christmas time, might pop
out from tree-box and convict him on
! the spot. At every corner he held his
breath, half expecting to run into Santa
himself; but nothing Of the sort happened,
and he soon found himself before the gay
windows of toy shop.
There he saw spring hobby-horse, as
large as Shetland pony, all saddled anc
bridled, too-iacking nothing, in fact, bu
rider. Rob pressed his nose against the
| glass. and tried to imagine the feelings o.
a boy in that saddle. He might have stood
| there all day trying to conceive that bliss
| had not ragged little fellow pulled his
| coat, piping out, Wouldn't you jist like
| that pop gun, mebbe!
:. Catch inc fUUking at p0p-guns," said
| Rob, shortly, feeling that their very men
| ton was an insult to the hobby horse; but
when he saw how tattered the boys jacket
was, he said more softly, "P'raps YOU'D
| like cooky."
"Try me wunst," said the shrill LITTLE
voice.
There was queer lump in Rob's throat
as he emptied one pocket OF its cakes and
| Then he marched down the street without
SO much as glancing at that glorious steed
again.
Brighter and brighter grew the windows,
more and more full OF toys, till at last our
boy stood, with open eyes and mouth, be-
fore a great store lighted from top TO bot
tom, for it was growing dark. Rob came
near taking off his cap and saying, " How
do you do. sir?'
TO whom you ask; why, TO an image
| of Santa Claus, the size of life, holding q
Christmas-tree filled with wonderful fruit
! 1t would have puzzled painter to find
| colors as bright as Rob's eyes and cheeks
were then. Soon happy thought struck
him: "Surely this must be Santa Claus
own store, where he comes TO fill his bias
ket with toys! What if were TO hide
there and wait for him." AS / said, he
was brave little chap, SO he walked
straight into the store with the stream OF
big people. Everybody was busy; man
mas were looking at playthings, papai
were pulling out their purses, clerks were
tying up parcels, and errand-boys were
scampering to and fro as if they had lost
their wits, and were bent on fineing them
No one had time to look at our mite Of a
Rob. He tried in vain to ind quiet cor
ner, till he caught sight of some winding
stairs that led up to the next story. he
crept up, scarcely daring to breathe till ne
reached the top.
What fairy-land! Toys everywhere
Oceans Of toysl Nothing but toys! ex
cepting one happy little boy! This wa
the Wholesale department. -,
Rob emo nearer losing his wits thar
ever In his lie before and indeed / thinl
aoch playroom excuse enough. Thinl
Of my sFsat rocking-horses h . pns; 9