LVIII.
A CHRISTMAS PRESENT.
A forsaken little kitten wandered up and down the street on the day before Christmas. It had no home; it had no name; it had no ribbon around its neck; and it had no saucer of nice milk in one corner.
It began to grow dark, and colder too, and the stars came peeping out, and the first flakes of a real Christmas snowstorm began floating down through the air. The kitten mewed a trembling little mew, which told as plainly as it could that it was very hungry, and it fluffed out its fur to keep itself warm.
Now, somewhere along that street, up on top of a house (hiding behind a chimney where he couldn’t be seen), was Santa Claus, getting everything in shape before starting on his evening round. When old Santa saw that lonesome little kitten strolling around he smiled—yes, old Santa Claus smiled. He smiled because he knew that two blocks up the street a little girl was standing with her nose pressed against the window, looking out into the deepening night.
He had seen her as he went by. And he had also seen the poor little supper laid out for two on the table, and heard her say to her mother, in a quavering voice:
“Not even one present, mamma—not the teeniest little one!”
“Mamma, I Hear Old Santa’s Bells and of Course this is the Present He Brought.”
“No, Susie,” her mother had answered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get anything for my little girl this year, but—you know there wasn’t any money dear.” And there was a tremble in her mother’s voice too.
Susie wiped away the tears, and turned to look out of the window.
“Perhaps,” she said to herself; “perhaps Santa Claus has something for me after all!”
Now, the sad, really dreadful part about it was that Santa Claus didn’t have one single thing for Susie in his pack. Perhaps it was because she had moved into that house since last Christmas, or perhaps for once old Santa had made a mistake. Anyway he was just saying to himself: “Why, bless me, what shall I do about it?” when he caught sight of that shivering little kitten.
“The very thing,” he thought. “I’ll give them to each other!” and he chuckled till his reindeer looked around to see what was the matter.
And what happened next? Well, that kitten never knew really. It only seemed as if there was a sudden rush and jingle of bells, which frightened it so that it flew up the street as fast as its four little legs could carry it, until it saw a small friendly face at a window, and rushed up some steps nearby. Then a door opened, and two soft little arms picked it up gently from the cold snow and a voice cried:
“Oh, mamma, see the poor little kitten—it’s so cold—oh, we’ll keep it, won’t we, mamma! The poor little thing. Do you think it would drink milk?”
Would it drink milk? What a question to ask about a little kitten. While the little kitten was nearly choking itself trying to drink a saucerful of milk and purr at the same time there was a jingle of bells outside, and Susie said:
“Mamma, I hear old Santa’s bells, and, of course, this is the present he brought.”