All the flat mothers congratulated themselves on the fact
that their children were becoming so quiet and orderly, and wondered
what could have come over them when they noted that they neglected to
run after the patrol wagon as it whizzed round the block.
It was decided, after a solemn talk, that every child should go to its
own fireplace and investigate. In the event of any fireplace being
found with an opening big enough to admit Santa Claus, a note could be
left directing him along the halls to the other apartments. A spirit of
universal brotherhood had taken possession of the Santa Maria flatters.
Misery bound them together. But the investigation proved to be
disheartening. The cruel asbestos grates were everywhere. Hope lay
strangled!
As time went on, melancholy settled upon the flat children. The parents
noted it, and wondered if there could be sewer gas in the apartments.
One over-anxious mother called in a physician, who gave the poor little
child some medicine which made it quite ill. No one suspected the
truth, though the children were often heard to say that it was evident
that there was to be no Christmas for them! But then, what more natural
for a child to say, thus hoping to win protestations--so the mothers
reasoned, and let the remark pass.
The day before Christmas was gray and dismal.
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