Santa Claus

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 53, Issue 3846, 16 December 1936, Page 13 (Supplement)

Santa Claus

MY DEPLORABLE LUCK ! And a Persistent Boy. i 'J|T WAS my deplorable luck to be guardian angel lor a tew hours to a boy of tour. Though he is I not my nephew he persists in calling I me uncle, which shows that there is still more emotion than logic in his make-up. As is the case with all children of his ago just now, little Bobby’s pet subject ot conversation is Santa Claus. There are many things about that mystic and mendacious personage that puzzle my young friend, and he flattered mo by hinting that I was a veritable walking encyclopedia who could make all most points clear. Goodness knows I tried hard enough. “Do you know Santa Claus very well?” he.began. "Yes, indeed,” I answered, airily. “We arc old college chums.” “Ooooo! When are you going to the South Pole to visit him?” “It will be a cold day when I go to the South Pole,” I said, with truth and emphasis. “Is Santa Claus there now?” "Yes,”l said, in an unguarded moment. “But Daddy read In the paper that he was at Icicle Point, and Mummy lead in another paper that he was at Breezing Island, and the radio said ha was in Antarctica, and Billy saw him in the store, and 1 heard a lady tell her little boy he won’t be here '.ill next week. How can he be in so many places? Are you sure he’s at the South Pole now?" "Quite certain,” I assured him. “He iiad to go back there for his mail.” I was quite willing to leave the question of the old saint’s omnipresence in abeyance, but Bobby persisted in his search for knowledge. "How can he be here and there all at once?” he persisted. “Oh, he’s a fast worker,” I said. “He manages to keep ahead of little boys all the time.” “Not by much, though," warned Bobby. “Tell me, Uncle, why is Mrs Santa Claus never with him?” This was a poser, so I sought enlightenment by indirect means. "What did your mummy tell you when you asked her?” I countered. “I didn't ask mummy. 1 asked daddy. He said Santa always went out. alone because Mrs Santa was never ready to start on time. Mummy was quite mad at daddy for saying that. Why?” x “Because of the moral application of his fiction,” I said. "If you don’t know what that means it isn’t my fault. As for Santa Claus, if he really is brave enough to leave his wife behind when she isn’t ready on time, he has more nerve than any married man I know.” "Why does he wear whiskers?” asked Bobby, coming back to something hi could understand. "It’s something that’s grown on nim," I explained. “He’s got the whisker habit before safety razors were invented and he hasn’t tried to cut loose from it of late years. Is there anything else you want to know, by any chance?” “Oh, lots and lots ot things, uncle. Why is he fat in the stores and thin on the street corners? Wljy is he tall in one place and short in another? Why does he wear so many different kinds ot clothes on the same day? Why does he speak gruff sometimes and squeaks sometimes? Why does —” By talking fast and at considerable length I succeeded in evading the points at issue without arousing Bobby’s suspicions too deeply. He thanked me cordially for the lack ot information I had passed on to him, though he did not phrase it quite that way. But he would have none of it when I tried to switch the subject to something not so dangerously controversial. “How long do I have to wait before Christmas comes?” he asked. "Tell me exactly, please, Uncle. Mummy always says something different.” I consulted the calendar and the clock. “Christman falls on the twentyfifth ot December this year,” I announced. “That means, you still have to wait seven days, nine hours, fitteen minutes and three seconds, pro i idl'd you’re a good boy.” "A little boy is always very good ;.ust before Christmas," he announced oracularly. “But it’s a long time to wait! Why don’t they have Christmas earlier in the year?” “I’ll ask Moses Cotsworth to arrange that,” 1 promised. “He’s in charge of ail moveable festivals.” “Ohooooooo! What would you like Santa Claus to bring you, if he was going to bring you anything?" That was the easiest question of the afternoon, and 1 answered in all sincerity: “A Maxim silencer to clap on inquisitive little boys!"