Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1900-12-21

and with long spy glass was sweep
ing the world below. The little boys
heart jumped. He knew about spy
glasses, and he understood now how it
was that Santa Claus could tell the
good children from the bad. 1t was
with that spy glass.
He lay on the floor looking at the
picture and thinking. Had he always
been good? He began to have grave
doubts. He was not always obedient
and there were a good many things
happened at school that he did not
care to speak of at home. He won
dered how good one had to be to get
a knife-a knife with two blades.
There were still two weeks until
Christmas He would try to make
up by being perfect during those two
weeks. He would remember about
that long spy glass every minute of
the day.
By and by he took the paper over to
where his mother was sewing. There
was one picture he did not understand.
1t was Santa Claus looking at a big
book with writing in it.
why" she said, that is where he
keeps the names of children. He
puts after them whether they are good
or bad
"Oh!" he asked, 'fs my name there?"
why, no; they go by alphabet;
your name would be just on the next
page"
The little boys hands trembled with
eagerness. He must see what was on
the other side of that page. He
took the paper and went back to his
place on the floor. He turned 1t so
hr thA YNIn ,-k 10. h. 10
ture, but it showed only printing.
Then he turned it back again and
tried to push a pin under the edge of
the leaf He could not do that
either. Then he turned to the other
side of the picture once more and held
it up to the light. He could see the
book and Santa Claus and some writ
ing on the page. He ran once more
to his mother.
"Read it mai" he said. Read the
other side!"
But she laughed and said it was all
the same. Then she tried to eX-
plain. He could understand, but he
was not satisfied. If he could only
see the other side of that page he
would know then about the knife.
It was very dark when he woke on
Christmas morning. His parents,
sleeping in the same ROOM were not
awake. It was very cold, too, but
that did not matter.
"Is it morning, mar" he called.
softly, INA, is it mornings"
There was a sleepy sound from the
big bed that might have meant any
thing. But like flash the little boy
was out on the icy floor in the dark,
Out into the dim sitting room, where
the empty fireplace was cold and
shadowy in the first gray of dawn.
Then the full stocking that crunched
when he Rugged it to his breast, and
a bound back into his little home
made bed, shivering with a delicious
sense of cold and joy.
There was something hard and
kind of long at the top. That was
candy-a big stick of peppermint; he
could tell by the feeling and smell.
He bit little piece off the end of it.
How good 1t was. Nobody ever made
such candy as Santa Claus. He laid
it out on the cover and went in deeper
There was a small package next, but
it was not the knife. It was soft, and
when he opened it it felt woolly. Oh,
yes it was mittens. He tried to see
what color they were in the dark.
They were fastened together with a
long knit string, That was to go
round his neck. He had wanted nit
tens like those before he wanted the
knife so badly. Then there was a
round, quite big package that he could