“Well,” replied St. Nicholas, “I confess I can refuse nothing to a good child.  Children to me are all like so many empty stockings—­made to be filled.  But I have had some doubts about keeping Flax-Flower.  Mrs. Christmas and I are afraid it will make the others jealous; it is that, and not the stuffing down lollipops, that makes me think you are right.  Now her feast-day comes soon—­I mean Mrs. Christmas’s day,” said Santa Claus, with a nod—­“and if you will just give my sleigh a lift, I think I can tuck in Flaxie and carry her to some people I know—­some people who will appreciate her and be kind to her; yes, and even cross in a wholesome way, seeing that’s what you approve of.”

Here Santa pretended to be very gruff himself, but Boreas saw through it.  He knew that St. Nicholas, on the whole, believed that Flaxie would be better off without so much amusement and without so many temptations to do nothing but play all day long, and this was the way the matter ended.

Just before Christmas day Santa Claus’s sleigh was brought out into the beautiful court I have described; eight lively young reindeer were harnessed to it, and thousands of toys were packed in it; furs were wrapped around Flaxie, who was now quite well, and Mrs. Christmas herself made up a box of delicacies for her to eat on the way.

“Think of us often, dear child,” she whispered, “and give my love to everybody.”

Then the dwarfs gave the sleigh a push from behind, the bells of the harness rang out a merry peal, the reindeer pranced, Santa Claus snapped his whip, and away they flew, with Boreas behind them on his snow-shoes.

“Now, Flaxie,” said Santa Claus, after they had skimmed over the snow with lightning speed for hours, “before you go to sleep, as I see you are doing, I want to speak to you.  I want you always to remember this visit to my house with pleasure, and tell all the children you may meet how much I love them, how much it pleases me to know that they are good, and how it really distresses me when they are not; tell them, too, that as long as Mrs. Christmas lives we will do all we can for their happiness, and all we ask in return is a grateful spirit.  Do you think you can remember all this?  Well, as you say you can, tell them also to hang up an extra stocking, whenever there is room by the chimney, for some little waif that hasn’t a stocking to hang up for himself.  Now go to sleep as soon as you please, and may your dreams be sweet!”

Cuddled down in the comfortable furs, Flaxie knew nothing more till she found herself awake and in the arms of a tall young fellow whose name was Olaf, and who carried her into the brightest, nicest little parlor, and set her down in front of a fine Christmas-tree, saying,

“There, Mistress Kindheart, see what Christmas has brought you.  I found her in the forest, and a great bearded giant told me to bring her to you.”

“Oh, Olaf, it is my little Lena come back, I do believe!” cried the woman, while tears of joy ran down her face.