The day before Christmas Lucy came to her mother with a request. "Just one thing, mother! And it isn't more presents—the Good Will tree hangs full!"

"Well, then, what is it, Lucy?" asked Mrs. Van Buren.

Little Lucy laughed. "A Chinese Santa Claus, mother! Think what a Santa Claus Sky-High would make in his flowing robes of black, yellow, and white all sprinkled over with silver and gold! Nearly all the gifts are Chinese, you know—all but ours for him. Just remember how he looked last summer on Sunday afternoons when the birds flew down to admire him!"

Yes, the birds seemed to have felt a curiosity about the little Chinaman when he went out into the garden with the children after Sunday luncheon; for sometimes, on that day, he used to put on garments so splendid that he did not like to show himself above stairs or on the street, and the birds came out of the trees to take a peep at him. One of these garments was a frock of silk covered with golden dragons, lotus-flowers, and gilded fringes; and with it he wore a golden butterfly with jeweled wings on his rimless cap.

Even Mr. Van Buren had wondered where a servant obtained such a glittering robe! One day he described the wardrobe of his house-boy to the consul. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

The consul laughed. "You don't know China!" he said. "Probably the old Manchurian mandarin had a fancy for decking out the boy!"

Nora's eyes used to double in size when she saw him in silk and gold and silver, with the jeweled butterfly waving above his narrow black eyes. "There's not the loikes on this planet," she would say. "I would think he'd stepped off a star and landed here! Queen Victory never looked the aqual of that little hathen varmit!"

It was agreed that Sky-High should be made the Santa Claus of the Christmas party. He promised to appear in his dragon robe, though he said it was never worn in public excepting on vice-royal occasions.

"Sky-High, did you ever see a vice-royal occasion?" asked Lucy, wondering what the double word meant.

"Yea, my little Lady of the Lotus," answered the house-boy. "And once I was present on a royal occasion in Pekin. The Son of Heaven appeared that day in all his splendor."

"You waited on your mandarin?" asked Lucy.

"I attended upon my mandarin—yes?" Little Sky-High burst forth into the forbidden "flowery language." "It was in the Purple City. Barbarians cannot understand; but in our court, in the Inner City, in the ancient Purple City, we associate with the Sun and Moon and the Dragon that swallows the Sun. The Sacred Lotus is our flower, and at the feast the heavens are made to shine on us!"

Lucy's face shone too, just to hear the words of the mysterious little "Washee-washee-wang,"—in fact she had been radiant ever since she had first thought of making a Santa Claus of him. She wondered how he would look to her mother's friends on Christ Child night, wearing his "celestial" robes.

The children were to have their own tree on Christmas eve, at the church among the evergreens and music, and Sky-High was to accompany them in his black clothes and white ruffles. The Christmas night tree was always at home, for Mrs. Van Buren and her friends.

Little Lucy was to lead the Christmas night jollities, and only the Santa Claus himself knew what would follow the wave of the long Chinese wand which she carried.

The guests gathered early—half a dozen ladies—for it was to be a story-telling evening.

Promptly at the moment when Lucy waved for him, little Sky-High came into the parlors fanning slowly with his great ceremonial fan, as if entering some languid pagoda garden of his native land. Every guest leaned forward to gaze at the gorgeous stranger. His silk stockings were white, over black shoes with silver buckles and whitened soles. His robe sparkled gaily with the dragon and lotus, and the butterfly on his gold-banded cap shook its jeweled wings with every step. He wore a sash of gems which the family had not seen before. He moved before the company like a figure of sunshine.

Little Lucy had come to his side. "I have the great felicity," she began—she had got the fine word from Sky-High—"to have a celestial Santa Claus, a wang from China, to serve you the gifts from the Good Will tree."

The glittering wang bowed to the four corners of the earth, then to all, turning round and round in dazzling circles.

No, Mrs. Van Buren's Christmas guests had never seen a Santa Claus like this one! All eyes were wide with pleased wonder.

"Isn't he perfectly splendid?" whispered Lucy, tripping over to the wife of the rector.

"He is indeed, dear," said the rector's wife; and added low to her neighbor, "Is it not their wonderful house-boy?"

No one was certain. And no one, excepting Lucy and the Santa Claus, knew what were the gifts on the Good Will tree. Lucy and little Sky-High had bought them in Boston. All those for the guests were blue-and-white mandarin plates, wrapped in squares of gay silk crape, and tied with a profusion of soft gold cord. As the packages were alike, the celestial Santa Claus could present them without mistakes.

But there were some packages in red-and-gold crape still on the tree, not large ones—not magic plates, certainly.

The Santa Claus unwrapped the three which he next took from the green branches. The presents were amulets. When unfolded they revealed bells and gems; the bells looked like gold; the gems like pure pearls, opals, and crystals. One was a necklace for Mrs. Van Buren; one a bracelet for Lucy; and the other a charm for Charles.

The amulets awakened a great surprise. The little golden bells burned with the red lusters of rubies, and tinkled as though they were dream-bells.

"They keep evil spirits away," said Sky-High, with sparkling eyes. "They ring warnings."

Mrs. Van Buren rose and put one of the other packages in little Sky-High's hand. The wrappings revealed a four-fold case of gold, which some curious mechanism permitted to open into leaves, and stand us a tablet, or half-closed. Each leaf held a small and perfect portrait—the four were of the little serving-man's mistress and her children and the master; and it is impossible to describe the blissful expression in Sky-High's eyes when he first looked upon the familiar faces.

And there was still another package. That one the little Chinaman had put on the Good Will tree for Nora.

It was an English gold sovereign in a case tied with red ribbon.

"And may the Angel of Mercy spread her white wings over that hathen boy's pigtail!" said Nora, as she was given the gift. "I wish I had something for him. I will give him kind words now, and sure!"