And you came all the way to the North Pole, to bring me this medicine? says SANTA CLAUS, looking from Polly to Jack and back to Polly again.  How did you get here?

First, we went up the chimney, says JACK, I saw the steps with the fairy spectacles, you know.

And then, says POLLY, I held fast hold of his hand, and wished.  I had the wishing-cap, you see.

But weren’t you afraid? asks SANTA CLAUS.  When you climbed up the black chimney, and when you stood on the top, in the black night under the stars, and when you came flying through the air, weren’t you frightened?

Well, it wasn’t much fun, says POLLY, but we didn’t know how else to get here.

And we knew you were sick, says JACK.

But, asks SANTA CLAUS, what difference did it make to you children whether an old man like me was sick or not?

Why, Santa Claus, answers POLLY, we all just love you, you know.

Well, well, says SANTA CLAUS. Then he lays down his cane on the floor, and stretches himself, and stands up, and walks across the room without hobbling at all.

How do you feel now? asks JACK.

Feel? answers SANTA CLAUS, moving more and more briskly.  I feel as young as a snow flake; I feel as strong as a northeast blizzard.  Quick, Mrs. Santa Claus, bring me my fur cap and gloves.  There’s time yet to fill the children’s stockings.

While Mrs. Santa Claus is out of the room, JACK says:  Santa, I didn’t even know there was a Mrs. Santa Claus.

Have you ever been very sick? asks SANTA CLAUS.

We’ve had chicken pox, answers JACK.

Oh, that doesn’t count, says SANTA CLAUS, but some times, when children are very sick indeed—­or, for days and days—­and when they are very good and patient, and take their medicine, and never kick the bed clothes off, then Mrs. Santa Claus comes in the night, and brings them a present, and when they wake up, they find it beside the bed.

Oh, says POLLY, I think she must be almost as good as you, Santa
Claus.

And besides that, says SANTA CLAUS, who do you suppose dresses all the dolls that I put into the stockings?  She does, of course.  Look here at this fine one that she has just finished.  To be sure, I make the doll part myself, and this one here is a very fine one, if I do say it:  it can talk.  Would you like to hear it, Polly?  Just pull that string there.

Polly pulls the string and the DOLL, in a very squeaky voice, says, Ma-ma.

And, by the way, SANTA CLAUS goes on, I must put this doll and that soldier into the shrinking-machine.

Why, what is that, Santa Claus? asks JACK.

The shrinking-machine? says SANTA CLAUS.  That is it, over there. He points to the tall cupboardy thing at the back.  Then he goes on.  You see it’s easier to make toys big, but I couldn’t carry them that way, for the sleigh wouldn’t hold them, and besides they wouldn’t go into the stockings.  So after they are made, I put them into the machine, and shrink them.  Open the doors, Polly, and we will shrink these two.