SANTA CLAUS. 299
by making a pair out of a piece of newspaper he had picked up. But perhaps Mr. Claus was particular about the mate- rial and admitted nothing under cotton. He thought of stepping deeply into the mud and caking a pair, but then he could only remove them at night by brushing them off in little pieces ; he feared they would stick too tight to come off whole. He also thought of painting his calves with stripes from " wet paint," on the off chance that Mr. Claus would drop the presents carelessly down along his legs. But he concluded that if Mr. Claus lived in the sky he could look down and see all he was doing. So he began to cry instead.
"What are you crying about?" said a quavering voice, and Bob, startled, became aware of a wretched old creature dining on the doorstep at his side.
" I ain't got no stockings," he sobbed in answer.
" Well, I'll give you mine," said his neighbour.
Bob hesitated. The poor old woman looked so broken- down herself, it seemed mean to accept her offer.
"Won't you be cold?" he asked timidly.
" I shan't be warmer," mumbled the old woman. " But then you will."
"No, I won't have them, thank you kindly, mum," said Bob stoutly.
"Then I'll tell you what to do," said the old woman, who was really a fairy, though she had lost both wings — they had been amputated in a surgical operation. " It's easy enough to get stockings if you only know how. Run away now and pick out any person you meet and say, ' I wish that person's stockings were on my feet.' You can only wish once, so be careful, especially, not to wish for a pair of blue stockings, as they won't suit you."
She grinned and vanished. Bob jumped up and was
