to see us to-night?" asked little Grace.

"I'm sure I can't tell, child. Who is it?"

"Why, Santa Claus himself, with all his presents around him."

"Is, hey?" said cousin Betty; "well, I shall be mighty glad to see him,
I can tell you; for, old as I am, I've never seen him yet."

"I'm so glad you've come, cousin Betty!" said Effie; "we want you to go with us some day over to the farm-house, and tell us about our great-grandfather, whose house stood where the farm-house stands now; and how his house was burnt down by the Indians, and he was carried off. Agnes wants to hear it so much."

"Does! Well, I will go over there, and tell you the story, some day. But I can't walk over there while the weather is so cold; I should get the rheumatiz."

"I'll drag you over on my sled, if that will do, cousin Betty," said
Robert.

The children laughed so heartily at the picture presented to their imagination of little old cousin Betty riding on Robert's sled, that Grace actually rolled out of her chair.

"Why wouldn't it do to tell the story here, Effie?" asked Agnes.

"Oh, because it is a great deal more interesting, told on the spot you know. Cousin Betty has heard it all over and over again from grandmamma, and she can point out, from one window of the farm-house, all the places where all those dreadful things happened."

Some warm dinner was now brought in for cousin Betty, and the children went off to tie up and label the gifts for Santa Claus.

"What shall we do with the presents we have for papa and mamma?" asked
Grace.

"Oh, we cannot hand those in to the study," said Effie; "we must contrive some way to give them afterwards."

And now the children, one after the other, with their arms laden with packages, were making their way to their father's study; Emily and Agnes, too, had several contributions to make to the heap of bundles which was piled up on the study table; and before six o'clock, Mr. Wharton said he had taken in enough articles to stock a very respectable country store. At six o'clock the study door was locked, and there was no more admittance.

An hour or two after this, the whole family were assembled in the two large parlors, which were brilliantly lighted for the occasion, and all were on the tiptoe of expectation.

"I should like to know how he is coming," said Albert; "he'll be likely to get well scorched, if he comes down either chimney."

At this moment there was a slight tap at one of the windows opening on to the piazza, which Mr. Wharton immediately proceeded to open, and in walked St. Nicholas.

He was a jolly, merry-looking, little old gentleman, with beard and whiskers as white as snow, and enveloped in furs from head to foot. Around his neck, around his waist, over his shoulders, down his back, and even on the top of his head, were presents and toys of every description. Behind him he dragged a beautiful sled, which was loaded with some articles too bulky to be carried around his person. Every pocket was full; and as he passed through the rooms, he threw sugar plums and mottoes, nuts and raisins, on all sides, causing a great scrambling and screaming and laughing among the children.

Then he began to disengage the presents, which were pinned about him, and tied to the buttons of his coat; and as he did so, he looked at the label, and threw it at the one for whom it was intended. It would be hard for one who was not there to imagine the lively scene which was now presented in the great parlors at Brook Farm; the presents flying round in all directions; the children dodging, and diving, and catching, while shouts and screams of laughter made the house ring.

"But who is he?—who can he be?" was the question which each asked of the other a great many times during this merry scene. Mr. Wharton and Mr. Ellison, "Aunt Fanny's" husband, were both in the room, and they were sure there was no other gentleman in the house.

Just then Robert screamed, "Oh, I know now! It's cousin Tom! He throws left-handed!" And now the effort was made to pull off the mask, but Santa Claus avoided them with great dexterity, still continuing his business of distributing the presents.

At the feet of Agnes he placed a work-box, much handsomer than that which Lewie had destroyed; at Emily's, a writing-desk, and some valuable books; and when his sled was emptied, he drew the sled, and left it with little Harry, for whom it was intended.

"My goodness gracious!" said cousin Betty, as a beautiful muff "took her in the head," as Albert said, and sadly disarranged the set of her odd little turban.

"And now I believe old Santa Claus has finished his labors," said Mr.
Wharton.

"Oh no, not yet," cried Effie; "he must come with us for a new supply. But I feel a little afraid of him yet. If I only could be sure it was cousin Tom!"

"You need not doubt that, Effie," said Robert; "nobody else ever threw like cousin Tom. I've seen him play snow-ball often enough."

And now Santa Claus was taken captive by the children, and in a few minutes he re-appeared, laden with gifts, but this time for the older members of the family; and the products of the children's industry made quite a display, and much astonished those for whom they were intended, the children having kept their secrets well.

And now, as the rooms were warm, old Santa Claus was quite willing to get rid of his mask and his furs; and this done, he straightened up, and cousin Tom stood revealed.

"And how did you come, and where have you been?" asked the children.

"Oh, I came this afternoon, and stopped at the farm house," answered cousin Tom, or Mr. Thomas Wharton, for it is time he should be introduced by his true name to the reader. "And after it was dusk I slipped over here, and went round to uncle's study door while you were at tea. I sent word by Aunt Fanny that you might expect Santa Claus to-night."

And now began a game of romps, which lasted for an hour or more, and then little bodies began to be stumbled over, and were found under tables, and on sofas fast asleep, and were taken off to bed. Mrs. Ellison's baby being roused by the noise, had awaked, and persisted in keeping awake, and his mother came back to the parlor bringing him in her arms, with his night-gown on, and his cheeks as red as roses.

"Isn't he a splendid fellow?" said she, holding him up before cousin
Tom.

"A very comfortable looking piece of flesh certainly," he answered; "but then they are all alike. I think you might divide all babies into two class, the fat and the lean; otherwise, there is no difference in them that I can see."

"Pshaw, how ridiculously you talk; there is a great deal more difference between two babies, than between you and all the other young dandies who walk Broadway. They are all alike, the same cut of the coat and collar, and whiskers; the same tie of the neck-cloth, and shape of the boot: when you have seen one, you have seen all. But now just take a good look at this magnificent baby, and confess; wouldn't you like to kiss him?"

"Excuse me, my dear aunty, but that is a thing I haven't been left to do very often. I've no fancy for having my cheeks and whiskers converted into spitoons. It is really astonishing now," continued cousin Tom, "what fools such a brat as that will make of very sensible people."

"Are your allusions personal, sir?" asked Mrs. Ellison, laughing.

"No, not just now; but I was thinking of a man in our