They thought they had come to their port that day,

But not yet was their journey done;

And they drifted away from Provincetown Bay

In the fireless light of the sun.

With rain and sleet were the tall masts iced,

And gloomy and chill was the air,

But they looked from the crystal sails to Christ,

And they came to a harbor fair.

The white hills silent lay,—

For there were no ancient bells to ring,

No priests to chant, no choirs to sing,

No chapel of baron, or lord, or king,

That gray, cold winter day.

The snow came down on the vacant seas,

And white on the lone rocks lay,—

But rang the axe 'mong the evergreen trees

And followed the Sabbath day.

Then rose the sun in a crimson haze,

And the workmen said at dawn:

"Shall our axes swing on this day of days,

When the Lord of Life was born?"

The white hills silent lay,—

For there were no ancient bells to ring,

No priests to chant, no choirs to sing,

No chapel of baron, or lord, or king,

That gray, cold Christmas Day.

"The old town's bells we seem to hear:

They are ringing sweet on the Dee;

They are ringing sweet on the Harlem Meer,

And sweet on the Zuyder Zee.

The pines are frosted with snow and sleet.

Shall we our axes wield

When the chimes at Lincoln are ringing sweet

And the bells of Austerfield?"

The air was cold and gray,—

And there were no ancient bells to ring,

No priests to chant, no choirs to sing,

No chapel of baron, or lord, or king,

That gray, cold Christmas Day.

Then the master said, "Your axes wield,

Remember ye Malabarre Bay;

And the covenant there with the Lord ye sealed;

Let your axes ring to-day.

You may talk of the old town's bells to-night,

When your work for the Lord is done,

And your boats return, and the shallop's light

Shall follow the light of the sun.

The sky is cold and gray,—

And here are no ancient bells to ring,

No priests to chant, no choirs to sing,

No chapel of baron, or lord, or king.

This gray, cold Christmas Day.

"If Christ was born on Christmas Day,

And the day by Him is blest,

Then low at His feet the evergreens lay

And cradle His church in the West.

Immanuel waits at the temple gates

Of the nation to-day ye found,

And the Lord delights in no formal rites;

To-day let your axes sound!"

The sky was cold and gray,—

And there were no ancient bells to ring,

No priests to chant, no choirs to sing,

No chapel of baron, or lord, or king,

That gray, cold Christmas Day.

Their axes rang through the evergreen trees

Like the bells on the Thames and Tay;

And they cheerily sang by the windy seas,

And they thought of Malabarre Bay.

On the lonely heights of Burial Hill

The old Precisioners sleep;

But did ever men with a nobler will

A holier Christmas keep,

When the sky was cold and gray,—

And there were no ancient bells to ring,

No priests to chant, no choirs to sing,

No chapel of baron, or lord, or king,

That gray, cold Christmas Day?

Allus when our Pa he's away

Nen Uncle Sidney comes to stay

At our house here--so Ma an' me

An' Etty an' Lee-Bob won't be

Afeard ef anything at night

Might happen--like Ma says it might.

---

(Ef Trip wuz big, I bet you he

'Uz best watch-dog you ever see!)

An' so last winter--ist before

It's go' be Chris'mus-Day,--w'y, shore

Enough, Pa had to haf to go

To 'tend a lawsuit--"An' the snow

Ist right fer Santy Claus!" Pa said,

As he clumb in old Ayersuz' sled,

An' said he's sorry he can't be

With us that night--"'Cause," he-says-ee,

"Old Santy might be comin' here--

This very night of all the year

---

I' got to be away!--so all

You kids must tell him--ef he call--

He's mighty welcome, an' yer Pa

He left his love with you an' Ma

---

An' Uncle Sid!" An' clucked, an' leant

Back, laughin'--an' away they went!

An' Uncle wave' his hands an' yells

"Yer old horse ort to have on bells!"

But Pa yell back an' laugh an' say

"I 'spect when Santy come this way

It's time enough fer sleighbells nen!"

An' holler back "Good-by!" again,

An' reach out with the driver's whip

An' cut behind an' drive back Trip.

---

An' so all day it snowed an' snowed!

An' Lee-Bob he ist watched the road,

In his high-chair; an' Etty she

U'd play with Uncle Sid an' me--

Like she wuz he'ppin' fetch in wood

An' keepin' old fire goin' good,

---

Where Ma she wuz a-cookin' there

An' kitchen, too, an' ever'where!

An' Uncle say, "'At's ist the way

Yer Ma's b'en workin', night an' day,

Sence she hain't big as Etty is

Er Lee-Bob in that chair o' his!"

Nen Ma she'd laugh 't what Uncle said,

An' smack an' smoove his old bald head

An' say "Clear out the way till I

Can keep that pot from b'ilin' dry!"

Nen Uncle, when she's gone back to

The kitchen, says, "We ust to do

---

Some cookin' in the ashes.--Say,

S'posin' we try some, thataway!"

An' nen he send us to tell Ma

Send two big 'taters in he saw

---

Pa's b'en a-keepin' 'cause they got

The premiun at the Fair. An' what

You think?--He rake a grea'-big hole

In the hot ashes, an' he roll

Them old big 'taters in the place

An' rake the coals back--an' his face

Ist swettin' so's he purt'-nigh swear

'Cause it's so hot! An' when they're there

'Bout time 'at we fergit 'em, he

Ist rake 'em out again--an' gee!--

He bu'st 'em with his fist wite on

A' old stove-led, while Etty's gone

---

To git the salt, an' butter, too—

Ist like he said she haf to do,

No matter what Ma say! An' so

He salt an' butter 'em, an' blow

'Em cool enough fer us to eat—

---

An' me-o-my! they're hard to beat!

An' Trip 'ud ist lay there an' pant

Like he'd laugh out loud, but he can't.

Nen Uncle fill his pipe—an' we

'Ud he'p him light it—Sis an' me,—

But mostly little Lee-Bob, 'cause

"He's the best Lighter ever wuz!"

Like Uncle telled him wunst when Lee-

Bob cried an' jerked the light from me,

He wuz so mad! So Uncle pat

An' pet him. (Lee-Bob's ust to that—

'Cause he's the little-est, you know,

An' allus has b'en humored so!)

Nen Uncle gits the flat-arn out,

An', while he's tellin' us all 'bout

---

Old Chris'mus-times when he's a kid,

He ist cracked hickernuts, he did,

Till they's a crockful, mighty nigh!

An' when they're all done by an' by,

He raked the red coals out again

An' telled me, "Fetch that popcorn in,

An' old three-leggud skillut—an'

The led an' all now, little man,—

An' yer old Uncle here 'ull show

You how corn's popped, long years ago

When me an' Santy Claus wuz boys

On Pap's old place in Illinoise!—

---

An' your Pa, too, wuz chums, all through,

With Santy!—Wisht Pa'd be here, too!"

Nen Uncle sigh at Ma, an' she

Pat him again, an' say to me

An' Etty,—"You take warning fair!—

Don't talk too much, like Uncle there,

Ner don't fergit, like him, my dears,

That 'little pitchers has big ears!'"

But Uncle say to her, "Clear out!—

Yer brother knows what he's about.—

You git your Chris'mus-cookin' done

Er these pore childern won't have none! »

---

Nen Trip wake up an' raise, an' nen

Turn roun' an' nen lay down again.

An' one time Uncle Sidney say,—

"When dogs is sleepin' thataway,

Like Trip, an' whimpers, it's a sign

He'll ketch eight rabbits—mayby nine—

Afore his fleas'll wake him—nen

He'll bite hisse'f to sleep again

An try to dream he's go' ketch ten."

---

An' when Ma's gone again back in

The kitchen, Uncle scratch his chin

An' say, "When Santy Claus an' Pa

An' me wuz little boys—an' Ma,

When she's 'bout big as Etty there;—

W'y,—'When we're growed—no matter where,'

Santy he cross' his heart an' say,—

'I'll come to see you, all, some day

---

When you' got childerns—all but me

An' pore old Sid!'" Nen Uncle he

Ist kindo' shade his eyes an' pour'

'Bout forty-'leven bushels more

O' popcorn out the skillut there

In Ma's new basket on the chair.

An' nen he telled us—an' talk' low,

"So Ma can't hear," he say:—"You know

Yer Pa know', when he drived away,

Tomorry's go' be Chris'mus-Day;—

Well, nen tonight," he whisper, "see?—

It's go' be Chris'mus-Eve," says-ee,

"An', like yer Pa hint, when he went,

Old Santy Claus (now hush!) he's sent

Yer Pa a postul-card, an' write

He's shorely go' be here tonight....

That's why yer Pa's so bored to be

Away tonight, when Santy he

Is go' be here, sleighbells an' all,

To make you kids a Chris'mus-call!"

---

An' we're so glad to know fer shore

He's comin', I roll on the floor—

An' here come Trip a-waller'n' roun'

An' purt'-nigh knock the clo'eshorse down!—

An' Etty grab Lee-Bob an' prance

All roun' the room like it's a dance—

Till Ma she come an' march us nen

To dinner, where we're still again,

But tickled so we ist can't eat

But pie, an' ist the hot mincemeat

With raisins in.—But Uncle et,

An' Ma. An' there they set an' set

Till purt'-nigh supper-time; nen we

Tell him he's got to fix the Tree

'Fore Santy gits here, like he said.

---

We go nen to the old woodshed—

All bundled up, through the deep snow—

"An' snowin' yet, jee-rooshy-O!"

Uncle he said, an' he'p us wade

Back where's the Chris'mus-Tree he's made

Out of a little jackoak-top

He git down at the sawmill-shop—

An' Trip 'ud run ahead, you know,

An' 'tend-like he 'uz eatin' snow—

When we all waddle back with it;

An' Uncle set it up—an' git

It wite in front the fireplace—'cause

He says "'Tain't so 'at Santy Claus

Comes down all chimblies,—least, tonight

He's comin' in this house all right—

By the front-door, as ort to be!—

We'll all be hid where we can see!"

---

Nen he look up, an' he see Ma

An' say, "It's ist too bad their Pa

Can't be here, so's to see the fun

The childern will have, ever' one!"

Well, we!—We hardly couldn't wait Till it wuz dusk, an' dark an' late Enough to light the lamp!—An' Lee- Bob light a candle on the Tree— "Ist one—'cause I'm 'The Lighter'!"—Nen He clumb on Uncle's knee again An' hug us bofe;—an' Etty git Her little chist an' set on it Wite clos't, while Uncle telled some more 'Bout Santy Claus, an' clo'es he wore

---

"All maked o' furs, an' trimmed as white As cotton is, er snow at night!" An' nen, all sudden-like, he say,— "Hush! Listen there! Hain't that a sleigh An' sleighbells jinglin'?" Trip go "whooh!" Like he hear bells an' smell 'em, too. Nen we all listen.... An'-sir, shore Enough, we hear bells—more an' more A-jinglin' clos'ter—clos'ter still Down the old crook-road roun' the hill.

---

An' Uncle he jumps up, an' all The chairs he jerks back by the wall An' th'ows a' overcoat an' pair O' winder-curtains over there An' says, "Hide quick, er you're too late!— Them bells is stoppin' at the gate!— Git back o' them-'air chairs an' hide, 'Cause I hear Santy's voice outside!"

---

Bang! bang! bang! we heerd the door— Nen it flewed open, an' the floor Blowed full o' snow—that's first we saw, Till little Lee-Bob shriek' at Ma

---

"There's Santy Claus!—I know him by His big white mufftash!"—an' ist cry An' laugh an' squeal an' dance an' yell— Till, when he quiet down a spell,

---

Old Santy bow an' th'ow a kiss To him—an' one to me an' Sis— An' nen go clos't to Ma an' stoop An' kiss her—An' nen give a whoop That fainted her!—'Cause when he bent An' kiss her, he ist backed an' went Wite 'ginst the Chris'mus-Tree ist where The candle's at Lee-Bob lit there!— An' set his white-fur belt afire— An' blaze streaked roun' his waist an' higher Wite up his old white beard an' th'oat!—

---

Nen Uncle grabs th' old overcoat An' flops it over Santy's head, An' swing the door wide back an' said, "Come out, old man!—an' quick about It!—I've ist got to put you out!" An' out he sprawled him in the snow— "Now roll!" he says—"Hi-roll-ee-O!"— An' Santy, sputter'n' "Ouch! Gee-whiz!" Ist roll an' roll fer all they is! An' Trip he's out there, too,—I know, 'Cause I could hear him yappin' so— An' I heerd Santy, wunst er twic't, Say, as he's rollin', "Drat the fice't!" Nen Uncle come back in, an' shake Ma up, an' say, "Fer mercy-sake!— He hain't hurt none!" An' nen he said,— "You youngsters h'ist up-stairs to bed!— Here! kiss yer Ma 'Good-night,' an' me,— We'll he'p old Santy fix the Tree— An' all yer whistles, horns an' drums I'll he'p you toot when morning comes!"

---

It's long while 'fore we go to sleep,— 'Cause down-stairs, all-time somepin' keep A-kindo' scufflin' roun' the floors— An' openin' doors, an' shettin' doors— An' could hear Trip a-whinin', too, Like he don't know ist what to do—

---

An' tongs a-clankin' down k'thump!— Nen some one squonkin' the old pump— An' Wooh! how cold it soun' out there! I could ist see the pump-spout where t's got ice chin-whiskers all wet An' drippy—An' I see it yet!

---

An' nen, seem-like, I hear some mens A-talkin' out there by the fence, An' one says, "Oh, 'bout twelve o'clock!" "Nen," 'nother'n says, "Here's to you, Doc!— God bless us ever' one!" An' nen I heerd the old pump squonk again. An' nen I say my prayer all through Like Uncle Sidney learn' me to,— "O Father mine, e'en as Thine own, This child looks up to Thee alone: Asleep or waking, give him still His Elder Brother's wish and will." An' that's the last I know.... Till Ma She's callin' us—an' so is Pa,—

---

He holler "Chris'mus-gif'!" an' say,— "I'm got back home fer Chris'mus-Day!— An' Uncle Sid's here, too—an' he Is nibblin' 'roun' yer Chris'mus-Tree!"

---

Nen Uncle holler, "I suppose Yer Pa's so proud he's froze his nose He wants to turn it up at us, 'Cause Santy kick' up such a fuss— Tetchin' hisse'f off same as ef He wuz his own fireworks hisse'f!" An' when we're down-stairs,—shore enough, Pa's nose is froze an' salve an' stuff All on it—an' one hand's froze, too, An' got a old yarn red-and-blue Mitt on it—"An' he's froze some more Acrost his chist, an' kindo' sore

---

All roun' his dy-fram," Uncle say.— "But Pa he'd ort a-seen the way Santy bear up last night when that- Air fire break out, an' quicker'n scat He's all a-blazin', an' them-'air Gun-cotton whiskers that he wear Ist flashin'!—till I burn a hole In the snow with him, and he roll The front-yard dry as Chris'mus jokes Old parents plays on little folks! But, long's a smell o' tow er wool, I kep' him rollin' beautiful!—

---

Till I wuz shore I shorely see He's squenched! W'y, hadn't b'en fer me, That old man might a-burnt clear down Clean—plum'—level with the groun'!" Nen Ma say, "There, Sid; that'll do!— Breakfast is ready—Chris'mus, too.— Your voice 'ud soun' best, sayin' Grace— Say it." An' Uncle bow' his face An' say so long a Blessing nen, Trip bark' two times 'fore it's "A-men!"

Watchman, tell us of the night,

What its signs of promise are.

Traveler, o'er yon mountain's height,

See that glory beaming star.

Watchman, does its beauteous ray

Aught of joy or hope foretell?

Traveler, yes – it brings the day,

Promised day of Israel.

---

Watchman, tell us of the night;

Higher yet that star ascends.

Traveler, blessedness and light,

Peace and truth its course portends.

Watchman, will its beams alone

Gild the spot that gave them birth?

Traveler, ages are its own;

See, it bursts o'er all the earth.

---

Watchman, tell us of the night,

For the morning seems to dawn.

Traveler, darkness takes its flight,

Doubt and terror are withdrawn.

Watchman, let thy wanderings cease;

Hie thee to thy quiet home.

Traveler, lo! the Prince of Peace,

Lo! the Son of God is come!

---

Sound over all waters, reach out from all lands,

The chorus of voices, the clasping of hands;

Sing hymns that were sung by the stars of the morn,

Sing songs of the angels when Jesus was born!

With glad jubilations

Bring hope to the nations!

The dark night is ending and dawn has begun:

Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,

All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one!

---

---

Sing the bridal of nations! with chorals of love

Sing out the war-vulture and sing in the dove,

Till the hearts of the peoples keep time in accord,

And the voice of the world is the voice of the Lord!

Clasp hands of the nations

In strong gratulations:

---

The dark night is ending and dawn has begun;

Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,

All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one!

---

---

Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;

East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease

Sing the song of great joy that the angels began,

Sing of glory to God and of good-will to man!

Hark! joining in chorus

The heavens bend o'er us!

The dark night is ending and dawn has begun;

Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun,

All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one!

"All hail!" the bells of Christmas rang,

"All hail!" the monks at Christmas sang,

The merry monks who kept with cheer

The gladdest day of all their year.

---

But still apart, unmoved thereat,

A pious elder brother sat

Silent, in his accustomed place,

With God's sweet peace upon his face.

---

"Why sitt'st thou thus?" his brethren cried.

"It is the blessed Christmas-tide;

The Christmas lights are all aglow,

The sacred lilies bud and blow.

---

"Above our heads the joy-bells ring,

Without the happy children sing,

And all God's creatures hail the morn

On which the holy Christ was born!

---

"Rejoice with us; no more rebuke

Our gladness with thy quiet look."

The gray monk answered: "Keep, I pray,

Even as ye list, the Lord's birthday.

---

"Let heathen Yule fires flicker red

Where thronged refectory feasts are spread;

With mystery-play and masque and mime

And wait-songs speed the holy time!

---

"The blindest faith may haply save;

The Lord accepts the things we have;

And reverence, howsoe'er it strays,

May find at last the shining ways.

---

"They needs must grope who cannot see,

The blade before the ear must be;

As ye are feeling I have felt,

And where ye dwell I too have dwelt.

---

"But now, beyond the things of sense,

Beyond occasions and events,

I know, through God's exceeding grace,

Release from form and time and place.

---

"I listen, from no mortal tongue,

To hear the song the angels sung;

And wait within myself to know

The Christmas lilies bud and blow.

---

"The outward symbols disappear

From him whose inward sight is clear;

And small must be the choice of clays

To him who fills them all with praise!

---

"Keep while you need it, brothers mine,

With honest zeal your Christmas sign,

But judge not him who every morn

Feels in his heart the Lord Christ born!"

"Oh, Little Bun Rabbit, so soft and so shy,

Say, what do you see with your big, round eye?"

"On Christmas we rabbits," says Bunny so shy,

"Keep watch to see Santa go galloping by."

---

Little Dorothy had passed all the few years of her life in the country, and being the only child upon the farm she was allowed to roam about the meadows and woods as she pleased. On the bright summer mornings Dorothy's mother would tie a sun-bonnet under the girl's chin, and then she romped away to the fields to amuse herself in her own way.

---

She came to know every flower that grew, and to call them by name, and she always stepped very carefully to avoid treading on them, for Dorothy was a kind-hearted child and did not like to crush the pretty flowers that bloomed in her path. And she was also very fond of all the animals, and learned to know them well, and even to understand their language, which very few people can do. And the animals loved Dorothy in turn, for the word passed around amongst them that she could be trusted to do them no harm. For the horse, whose soft nose Dorothy often gently stroked, told the cow of her kindness, and the cow told the dog, and the dog told the cat, and the cat told her black kitten, and the black kitten told the rabbit when one day they met in the turnip patch.

---

Therefore when the rabbit, which is the most timid of all animals and the most difficult to get acquainted with, looked out of a small bush at the edge of the wood one day and saw Dorothy standing a little way off, he did not scamper away, as is his custom, but sat very still and met the gaze of her sweet eyes boldly, although perhaps his heart beat a little faster than usual.

---

Dorothy herself was afraid she might frighten him away, so she kept very quiet for a time, leaning silently against a tree and smiling encouragement at her timorous companion until the rabbit became reassured and blinked his big eyes at her thoughtfully. For he was as much interested in the little girl as she in him, since it was the first time he had dared to meet a person face to face.

---

Finally Dorothy ventured to speak, so she asked, very softly and slowly,

---

"Oh, Little Bun Rabbit, so soft and so shy,

Say, what do you see with your big, round eye?"

---

"Many things," answered the rabbit, who was pleased to hear the girl speak in his own language; "in summer-time I see the clover-leaves that I love to feed upon and the cabbages at the end of the farmer's garden. I see the cool bushes where I can hide from my enemies, and I see the dogs and the men long before they can see me, or know that I am near, and therefore I am able to keep out of their way."

---

"Is that the reason your eyes are so big?" asked Dorothy.

---

"I suppose so," returned the rabbit; "you see we have only our eyes and our ears and our legs to defend ourselves with. We cannot fight, but we can always run away, and that is a much better way to save our lives than by fighting."

---

"Where is your home, bunny?" enquired the girl.

---

"I live in the ground, far down in a cool, pleasant hole I have dug in the midst of the forest. At the bottom of the hole is the nicest little room you can imagine, and there I have made a soft bed to rest in at night. When I meet an enemy I run to my hole and jump in, and there I stay until all danger is over."

---

"You have told me what you see in summer," continued Dorothy, who was greatly interested in the rabbit's account of himself, "but what do you see in the winter?"

---

"In winter we rabbits," said Bunny so shy, "Keep watch to see Santa go galloping by."

---

"And do you ever see him?" asked the girl, eagerly.

---

"Oh, yes; every winter. I am not afraid of him, nor of his reindeer. And it is such fun to see him come dashing along, cracking his whip and calling out cheerily to his reindeer, who are able to run even swifter than we rabbits. And Santa Claus, when he sees me, always gives me a nod and a smile, and then I look after him and his big load of toys which he is carrying to the children, until he has galloped away out of sight. I like to see the toys, for they are so bright and pretty, and every year there is something new amongst them. Once I visited Santa, and saw him make the toys."

---

"Oh, tell me about it!" pleaded Dorothy.

---

"It was one morning after Christmas," said the rabbit, who seemed to enjoy talking, now that he had overcome his fear of Dorothy, "and I was sitting by the road-side when Santa Claus came riding back in his empty sleigh. He does not come home quite so fast as he goes, and when he saw me he stopped for a word.

---

"'You look very pretty this morning, Bun Rabbit,' he said, in his jolly way; 'I think the babies would love to have you to play with.'

---

"'I do n't doubt it, your honor,' I answered; 'but they 'd soon kill me with handling, even if they did not scare me to death; for babies are very rough with their playthings.'

---

"'That is true,' replied Santa Claus; 'and yet you are so soft and pretty it is a pity the babies can't have you. Still, as they would abuse a live rabbit I think I shall make them some toy rabbits, which they cannot hurt; so if you will jump into my sleigh with me and ride home to my castle for a few days, I 'll see if I can't make some toy rabbits just like you."

---

"Of course I consented, for we all like to please old Santa, and a minute later I had jumped into the sleigh beside him and we were dashing away at full speed toward his castle. I enjoyed the ride very much, but I enjoyed the castle far more; for it was one of the loveliest places you could imagine. It stood on the top of a high mountain and is built of gold and silver bricks, and the windows are pure diamond crystals. The rooms are big and high, and there is a soft carpet upon every floor and many strange things scattered around to amuse one. Santa Claus lives there all alone, except for old Mother Hubbard, who cooks the meals for him; and her cupboard is never bare now, I can promise you! At the top of the castle there is one big room, and that is Santa's work-shop, where he makes the toys. On one side is his work-bench, with plenty of saws and hammers and jack-knives; and on another side is the paint-bench, with paints of every color and brushes of every size and shape. And in other places are great shelves, where the toys are put to dry and keep new and bright until Christmas comes and it is time to load them all into his sleigh.

---

"After Mother Hubbard had given me a good dinner, and I had eaten some of the most delicious clover I have ever tasted, Santa took me up into his work-room and sat me upon the table.

---

"'If I can only make rabbits half as nice as you are,' he said, 'the little ones will be delighted.' Then he lit a big pipe and began to smoke, and soon he took a roll of soft fur from a shelf in a corner and commenced to cut it out in the shape of a rabbit. He smoked and whistled all the time he was working, and he talked to me in such a jolly way that I sat perfectly still and allowed him to measure my ears and my legs so that he could cut the fur into the proper form.

---

"'Why, I 've got your nose too long, Bunny,' he said once; and so he snipped a little off the fur he was cutting, so that the toy rabbit's nose should be like mine. And again he said, 'Good gracious! the ears are too short entirely!' So he had to get a needle and thread and sew on more fur to the ears, so that they might be the right size. But after a time it was all finished, and then he stuffed the fur full of sawdust and sewed it up neatly; after which he put in some glass eyes that made the toy rabbit look wonderfully life-like. When it was all done he put it on the table beside me, and at first I did n't know whether I was the live rabbit or the toy rabbit, we were so much alike.

---

"'It 's a very good job,' said Santa, nodding his head at us pleasantly; 'and I shall have to make a lot of these rabbits, for the little children are sure to be greatly pleased with them.'

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"So he immediately began to make another, and this time he cut the fur just the right size, so that it was even better than the first rabbit.

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"'I must put a squeak in it,' said Santa.

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"So he took a box of squeaks from a shelf and put one into the rabbit before he sewed it up. When it was all finished he pressed the toy rabbit with his thumb, and it squeaked so naturally that I jumped off the table, fearing at first the new rabbit was alive. Old Santa laughed merrily at this, and I soon recovered from my fright and was pleased to think the babies were to have such pretty playthings.

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"'After this,' said Santa Claus, 'I can make rabbits without having you for a pattern; but if you like you may stay a few days longer in my castle and amuse yourself."

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"I thanked him and decided to stay. So for several days I watched him making all kinds of toys, and I wondered to see how quickly he made them, and how many new things he invented.

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"'I almost wish I was a child,' I said to him one day, 'for then I too could have playthings.'

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"'Ah, you can run about all day, in summer and in winter, and enjoy yourself in your own way,' said Santa; 'but the poor little children are obliged to stay in the house in the winter and on rainy days in the summer, and then they must have toys to amuse them and keep them contented."

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"I knew this was true, so I only said, admiringly, 'You must be the quickest and the best workman in all the world, Santa.'

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"'I suppose I am,' he answered; 'but then, you see, I have been making toys for hundreds of years, and I make so many it is no wonder I am skillful. And now, if you are ready to go home, I 'll hitch up the reindeer and take you back again.'

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"'Oh, no,' said I, 'I prefer to run by myself, for I can easily find the way and I want to see the country.'

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"'If that is the case,' replied Santa, 'I must give you a magic collar to wear, so that you will come to no harm.'

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"So, after Mother Hubbard had given me a good meal of turnips and sliced cabbage, Santa Claus put the magic collar around my neck and I started for home. I took my time on the journey, for I knew nothing could harm me, and I saw a good many strange sights before I got back to this place again."

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"But what became of the magic collar?" asked Dorothy, who had listened with breathless interest to the rabbit's story.

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"After I got home," replied the rabbit, "the collar disappeared from around my neck, and I knew Santa had called it back to himself again. He did not give it to me, you see; he merely let me take it on my journey to protect me. The next Christmas, when I watched by the road-side to see Santa, I was pleased to notice a great many of the toy rabbits sticking out of the loaded sleigh. The babies must have liked them, too, for every year since I have seen them amongst the toys.

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"Santa never forgets me, and every time he passes he calls out, in his jolly voice,

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"'A merry Christmas to you, Bun Rabbit! The babies still love you dearly.'"

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The Rabbit paused, and Dorothy was just about to ask another question when Bunny raised his head and seemed to hear something coming.

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"What is it?" enquired the girl.

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"It 's the farmer's big shepherd dog," answered the Rabbit, "and I must be going before he sees me, or I shall shall [both shalls in original] have to run for my life. So good bye, Dorothy; I hope we shall meet again, and then I will gladly tell you more of my adventures."

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The next instant he had sprung into the wood, and all that Dorothy could see of him was a gray streak darting in and out amongst the trees.