Children of the Tenements | Page 8

the big
room,--by virtue of his length, which had given him the nickname of
"Stretch," he was the speaker on all important occasions,--"ye seen it
yerself. Santy Claus is a-comin' to this here joint to-night. I wouldn't 'a'
believed it. I ain't never had no dealin's wid de ole guy. He kinder
forgot I was around, I guess. But de Kid says he is a-comin' to-night,
an' what de Kid says goes."
Then he looked round expectantly. Two of the boys, "Gimpy" and Lem,
were conferring aside in an undertone. Presently Gimpy, who limped,
as his name indicated, spoke up.
"Lem says, says he--"
"Gimpy, you chump! you'll address de chairman," interrupted Tom,
with severe dignity, "or you'll get yer jaw broke, if yer leg is short,
see!"
"Cut it out, Stretch," was Gimpy's irreverent answer. "This here ain't no
regular meetin', an' we ain't goin' to have none o' yer rot. Lem he says,
says he, let's break de bank an' fill de Kid's sock. He won't know but it
wuz ole Santy done it."

A yell of approval greeted the suggestion. The chairman, bound to
exercise the functions of office in season and out of season, while they
lasted, thumped the table.
"It is regular motioned an' carried," he announced, "that we break de
bank fer de Kid's Chris'mas. Come on, boys!"
The bank was run by the house, with the superintendent as paying teller.
He had to be consulted, particularly as it was past banking hours; but
the affair having been succinctly put before him by a committee, of
which Lem and Gimpy and Stretch were the talking members, he
readily consented to a reopening of business for a scrutiny of the
various accounts which represented the boys' earnings at selling papers
and blacking boots, minus the cost of their keep and of sundry
surreptitious flings at "craps" in secret corners. The inquiry developed
an available surplus of three dollars and fifty cents. Savoy alone had no
account; the run of craps had recently gone heavily against him. But in
consideration of the season, the house voted a credit of twenty-five
cents to him. The announcement was received with cheers. There was
an immediate rush for the store, which was delayed only a few minutes
by the necessity of Gimpy and Lem stopping on the stairs to "thump"
one another as the expression of their entire satisfaction.
The procession that returned to the lodging-house later on, after
wearing out the patience of several belated storekeepers, might have
been the very Santa's supply-train itself. It signalized its advent by a
variety of discordant noises, which were smothered on the stairs by
Stretch, with much personal violence, lest they wake the Kid out of
season. With boots in hand and bated breath, the midnight band stole
up to the dormitory and looked in. All was safe. The Kid was dreaming,
and smiled in his sleep. The report roused a passing suspicion that he
was faking, and Savarese was for pinching his toe to find out. As this
would inevitably result in disclosure, Savarese and his proposal were
scornfully sat upon. Gimpy supplied the popular explanation.
"He's a-dreamin' that Santy Claus has come," he said, carefully working
a base-ball bat past the tender spot in the stocking.

"Hully Gee!" commented Shorty, balancing a drum with care on the
end of it, "I'm thinkin' he ain't far out. Looks's ef de hull shop'd come
along."
It did when it was all in place. A trumpet and a gun that had made vain
and perilous efforts to join the bat in the stocking leaned against the
bed in expectant attitudes. A picture-book with a pink Bengal tiger and
a green bear on the cover peeped over the pillow, and the bedposts and
rail were festooned with candy and marbles in bags. An express-wagon
with a high seat was stabled in the gangway. It carried a load of fir
branches that left no doubt from whose livery it hailed. The last touch
was supplied by Savoy in the shape of a monkey on a yellow stick, that
was not in the official bill of lading.
"I swiped it fer de Kid," he said briefly in explanation.
When it was all done the boys turned in, but not to sleep. It was long
past midnight before the deep and regular breathing from the beds
proclaimed that the last had succumbed.
The early dawn was tinging the frosty window panes with red when
from the Kid's cot there came a shriek that roused the house with a start
of very genuine surprise.
"Hello!" shouted Stretch, sitting up with a jerk and rubbing his eyes.
"Yes, sir! in a minute. Hello, Kid, what to--"
The Kid was standing barefooted in the passageway, with a base-ball
bat in one