THE RAINBOW BOOK
girl richly dressed, about three years old, ran up to her. Nancy dropped a little bob of a curtsey, as her grandmother had taught her to do to the gentry.
Little Iris was not at all shy, and was full of one thought only—the thought of Christmas— so that she burst out with: " D'you know tomorrow's Christmas Day ?" and, without waiting for a reply, she babbled on: " I'm going to have such boo'ful things—a dolly that sends kisses, a pamberlator for her to ride in, a gold watch with real ticks, and a titten with real scratches. Guess who'll bring them."
" Her ladyship ?" ventured Nancy, dazzled at such a haul of magnificence.
" No, not Mummy," exclaimed Iris, capering with delight and revealing more of her frills and laces.
" I can't guess, Miss," said Nancy, smiling through her diffidence—which was just what Iris wanted her to say.
" It's Santa Claus ! Santa Claus always brings me just what I want. Isn't it clever ? "
" Who's Santa Claus ? Is it your aunt, Miss ? "
" I'm 'peaking to you about Santa Claus—a gen'lman. I've not seen him—never been able to catch him yet."
" Catch him! But who tells him what you want ?" She was getting quite interested.