The little immortals had set themselves a difficult task; for although
they had assisted Santa Claus on many of his journeys, their master
had always directed and guided them and told them exactly what he
wished them to do. But now they had to distribute the toys according
to their own judgment, and they did not understand children as well as
did old Santa. So it is no wonder they made some laughable errors.

Mamie Brown, who wanted a doll, got a drum instead; and a drum is of
no use to a girl who loves dolls. And Charlie Smith, who delights to
romp and play out of doors, and who wanted some new rubber boots to
keep his feet dry, received a sewing box filled with colored worsteds
and threads and needles, which made him so provoked that he
thoughtlessly called our dear Santa Claus a fraud.

Had there been many such mistakes the Daemons would have accomplished
their evil purpose and made the children unhappy. But the little
friends of the absent Santa Claus labored faithfully and intelligently
to carry out their master's ideas, and they made fewer errors than
might be expected under such unusual circumstances.

And, although they worked as swiftly as possible, day had begun to
break before the toys and other presents were all distributed; so for
the first time in many years the reindeer trotted into the Laughing
Valley, on their return, in broad daylight, with the brilliant sun
peeping over the edge of the forest to prove they were far behind
their accustomed hours.

Having put the deer in the stable, the little folk began to wonder how
they might rescue their master; and they realized they must discover,