When they reached home Tommy, after warming his hands and telling his mother about the sled, set to work to write a letter to Santa Claus on behalf of Johnny, and as he wrote, a number of things came to him that he thought Johnny would like to have. He remembered that he had no gloves and that his hands were very red; that his cap was very old and too small for him; that a real flexible flier would be a fine thing for him. Then, as he had asked for a gun for himself to hunt polar bears with and a fur coat to go out with in the snow, he added these in Johnny’s letter also; in fact, he asked for Johnny just the things he had asked for himself, except the goats, and, as Johnny had two goats, it was not necessary to ask for them for him. Instead of goats, however, he asked that Santa Claus might give Johnny’s mother a cow, as good as one of their cows. As he was not a very rapid writer it took him some time to write this letter, especially, as he did not know how to spell a good many words, and had to ask his mother how to spell them, for his father had gone out soon after their return from taking the sled to Johnny, and immediately after showing him the picture of the polar bear and the map of the North-pole region. Then when the letter was all done, signed and sealed, Tommy carefully dropped it in the fire in the library, and watched it as it first twisted up, then burst into a blaze, and finally disappeared in flame and smoke up the big chimney, hoping that it would blow away like the wind to Santa Claus to catch him before he started out that night on his round of visits.

By this time his supper was ready and he found that he was very hungry. He had no sooner finished it than he drew up in a big chair by the warm fire, and began to wonder whether Santa Claus would get his letter in time, and, if so, what he would bring Johnny. The fire was warm and his eyes soon began “to draw straws,” but he did not wish to go to bed quite yet and, indeed, had a lingering hope that when his father returned he might coax him into letting him go out again and slide with Johnny and then, perhaps, stand a chance of seeing Santa Claus come up the long hill, with his reindeer flying like the wind over the snow and taking the roofs of the houses with a single bound. So he moved over to the sofa where he could see better, and where it would not be likely his sleepiness would be observed.

The last thing he recalled in the sitting-room was when he parted the heavy curtains at the foot of the sofa and looked out at the snow stretching away down the hill toward the woods, and shining in the light of the great round moon which had just come up over the side of the yard to the eastward. Then he curled up in the corner of the sofa as wide awake as a boy could be who had made up his mind to keep awake until midnight. The next thing he remembered was Sate jumping up and snuggling by him, and the next was his father coming in and telling him Johnny was waiting outside with his sled and the two goats hitched to it to take a long ride, and his wrapping him up carefully in his heavy overcoat. In a second he was out in the yard and made a dash for the cow-lot, and there, sure enough, was Johnny waiting for him at the gate in the cow-pasture with a curious little peaked cap on his head and his coat collar turned up around his chin and tied with a great red comforter, so that only his eyes and nose peeped over it. As Tommy had never seen Johnny with that cap on before, he asked him where he had got it, and he said he had swapped caps with a little old man he had met driving a cow in the road as he came home. He could not keep this cap on his head, so Johnny had given him his in place of it, as it fitted him very well. And there were the two goats hitched to the very sled Tommy had made. In a minute they were on the sled, Tommy in front with the reins and Johnny sitting behind. Just as they were about to start, to Tommy’s horror, out came Sate, and do as they might, Sate would not go back; but jumped up on the sled and settled down at Tommy’s feet, and as Johnny said he did not mind and that Sate would keep Tommy’s feet warm, they let him stay, which proved in the end to be a very fortunate thing. Just after they had fixed themselves comfortably, Johnny said, “Are you ready?” “Ready!” said Tommy, and gathered up the reins, and the next moment the goats started off, at first at a walk and then at a little trot, while Tommy was telling Johnny what his father had told him about the night in Santa Claus’s country being so long that sometimes the sun did not rise above the horizon for several months.

“If it’s as long as that,” said Johnny, “we might go and see the old fellow and get back before midnight? I wish we could go.”

“So do I,” said Tommy, “but I’m afraid we might not find our way.” He remembered just then that all one had to do was to steer by the North Star, and at that moment he caught sight of the star right over the goats’ heads.

The coast was clear and the snow was up to the top of the fences. The moon made it as light as day and never again would there be such a chance. It came to him, too, that on the map all the lines ran together at the North Pole, so that one could hardly miss his way, and if he should, there were Eskimos to guide him. So when Johnny said, “Let’s go and try,” he agreed, for if they once got there, Santa Claus, himself, might bring them back with him.

For a moment they went along as though they were coasting down a hill, with the little North Star shining directly in front of them as they glided along.

Just then Tommy said, “I wish the goats were reindeer. Let’s pretend they are.”

“So do I,” said Johnny.

At this instant something happened; the goats gave a jump which sent a cloud of fine snow up into the boys’ faces; the sled gave a great leap and on a sudden they began to tear along like the wind. The snow-fields flew by them, and the trees, standing up to their knees in snow, simply tore along to the rear.

“They are running away!” said Tommy, as soon as he could catch his breath.

“All right. Let them run,” said Johnny. “But steer by the North Star.” And so they did.

When the cloud of snow in their faces cleared away, Tommy could scarcely believe his eyes.

“Look, Johnny!” he cried. “They are real reindeer. Real live ones. Look at their antlers.”

“I know,” said Johnny. “That little man said he wanted to swap with me.”

So they flew on, up hill and down dale, over fields of white snow where the fences and rocks were buried and the cuts were filled up level; down frozen streams, winding through great forests where the pines were mantled with white; in between great walls of black rock towering above them, with the stars shining down like fires; out again across the vast stretches of snow with the Pole Star ever twisting and turning and coming before them again, until the sky seemed lit up with wonderful colours, and great bands of light were shooting up and sinking down only to shoot up again with a crackling like packs of pop-crackers in the distance.

The wind sang in their ears, nipped their noses, and made Tommy drowsy, and presently he must have fallen asleep; for just as he was conscious that Johnny had taken the reins, and, with one arm on either side of him was holding him on his shoulder, there was a great jolt and a sort of crash as of breaking through. He would have fallen off the sled if Johnny had not held him tight.

When he opened his eyes they seemed to be passing through a sort of silvery haze, as though the moonlight were shining through a fine mist of silvery drops which shed the softest radiance over everything. And suddenly through this enchanting light they came to a beautiful city, with walls around it of crystal, all rimmed with gold, like the clouds at sunset. Before them was a great gate through which shone a wonderful light, and inside they saw a wide street all lit up. As they reached the gate there was a sort of peal, as of bells, and out poured a guard of little men in uniform with little swords at their sides and guns in their hands, who saluted, while their officer, who had a letter in his hand, halted them with a challenge.

“Who goes there?”

“Friends,” said Tommy, standing up and saluting, as he had seen soldiers do at the fort.

“Advance, friends, and give the countersign.” Tommy thought they were lost and his heart sank.

But Johnny said, “‘Good-will.’”

“All right,” said the captain and stepped back.

“Who gave you that sled?” he asked.

“Tommy,” said Johnny. “This little boy here made it and gave it to me.”

“This is the one,” said the captain to a guard, looking at a letter in his hand. “Let them by.”

They drove in at the gate and found themselves in a broad street filled with enchanting things more beautiful than Tommy had ever dreamed of. The trees which lined it were Christmas trees, and the lights on them made the street as bright as noonday.

Here the reindeer slackened their pace, and as they turned down the great street they could see through the windows rooms brilliantly lighted, in which were hosts of people bustling about as busy as bees, working at Christmas things of all sorts and descriptions. They suddenly came to the gate of a great palace-like place, which the reindeer appeared to know, for they turned in at the gate just as Tommy’s father’s horses always turned in at their gate at home, and as they drove up to the door, with a shout of, “Here they are!” out poured a number of the same little people—like those they had already seen at the gate. Some helped them out, some stood like a guard, and some took their reindeer to drive them to the stable.

“You are just in time,” said the captain of this party, as he stepped forward and saluted them. “The old Gentleman has been waiting for you, sending out to the gate to watch for you all evening.”

Tommy was about to ask, “How did he know we were coming?” but before he could get the words out, the little man said, “Oh, he knows all that boys do, especially about Christmas time. That’s his business.”

“My!” thought Tommy, “I shall have to mind what I even think up here. He answers just as if I had said it. I hope he knows what I want for Christmas.”

“Wait and see,” said the little man; and Tommy, though he was glad to hear it, determined not to think any more just then, but he was sorry he had not thought to wish for more things while he was wishing.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said the guard. “Santa Claus doesn’t care much what you ask for for yourself. Even if he gives those things, you soon get tired of them or lose them or break them up. It is the things one asks for for others that he gives pleasure with. That’s the reason he has such a good time himself, because he gives all the things to others.”

Tommy tried to think what he had ever given to any one. He had given pieces of candy and cake when he had plenty, but the sled was the only thing he had ever really given. He was about to mention this when the guard mentioned it for him.

“Oh, that sled was all right,” he said, with a little nod. “Come in,” and the great ice-doors opened before them, and in they walked.

They passed through a great hall, all ice, as transparent as glass, though curiously it was warm and dry and filled with every kind of Christmas “things:”—everything that Tommy had ever seen, and a myriad more that he had never dreamed of. They were packed and stacked on either side, and a lot of little people, like those he had already seen, were working among them, tossing them about and shouting to each other with glee to “Look out,” just as the boys did when coasting on the hill.

“I tell you,” said one, “the Governor will have a busy time to-night. It beats last Christmas.” And he made a run and a jump, and lit on a big pile of bundles which suddenly toppled over with him and nearly buried him as he sprawled on the slippery floor. This seemed a huge joke to all the others and they screamed with laughter at “Old Smartie,” as they called him, and poured more bundles down on him, just as though they were having a pillow-fight. Then when Old Smartie had at last gotten on his feet, they had a great game of tag among the piles and over them, and the first thing Tommy knew he and Johnny were at it as hard as anybody. He was very proud because Johnny could jump over piles as high as the best of them. Tommy, himself, however, could not jump; for they led him to a pile so high that he could not see over it; and on top were the fragments of all the things he had ever had and had broken up. He could not help crying a little; but just then in dashed a number of little men and gathering them up, rushed out with them. Tommy was wondering what they were going to do with them, when his friend, the guard, said: “We mend some of them; and some we keep to remind you with. Now try again.” Tommy tried and did very well, only his left foot had gone to sleep in the sled and had not quite waked up.

“That was because Sate went to sleep on it,” said his friend, the guard, and Tommy wondered how he knew Sate’s name.

“Why,” said the guard, “we have to know dogs’ names to keep them from barking at us and waking everybody up. Let me lend you these boots,” and with that he kicked off his boots. “Now, jump,” and Tommy gave a jump and lit in them, as he sometimes did in his father’s shoes. No sooner had Tommy put them on than he found that he could jump over the highest pile in the room.

“Look, look!” cried several of the others. “The captain has lent that little boy his ‘Seven Leaguers.’”

“I know where he is going,” said one; “to jump over the North Pole.”

“No,” laughed another. “He is going to catch the cow that ‘jumped over the moon,’ for Johnny Stout’s mother.”

Just then a message came that “Old Santa,” as they called him, was waiting to see the two boys who had come in the new box-sled, as he wanted to know how their mothers were and what they wished for Christmas. So there was a great scurrying to get their heads brushed before the bell rang again, and Tommy got soap in his eyes wetting the brush to make his hair lie smooth, while Johnny’s left shoe came off and dropped in a hole in the floor. Smartie, however, told him that that was for the “Old Woman who lived in a shoe” to feed her cow in, and this was considered a great joke.

The next minute the door opened and they entered a great apartment, filled with the softest light from a blazing fire, and Tommy was sure it was his father’s back before him at the fireplace; but when the man turned it was Santa Claus, only he did not have on his whiskers, and looked ever so much younger than in his pictures. At first he did not even look at them, he was so busy receiving mail that came fluttering down the chimney in a perfect snowstorm. As the letters came he gathered them up and handed them to a lady who was seated on the floor, saying, “Put that in,” to which the lady always answered, “Just the thing,” in a voice so like his mother’s that Tommy felt quite at home. He was just wondering when “Sometime” would come, when Santa Claus picked up a letter, which had been thrown on the floor, and tossed it to the lady, saying, “Here’s that letter from that little boy, Tommy Trot. Put some of those things in so he can break them up. He asked only for himself and much joy he will get out of them.” Tommy shrank back behind Johnny. He wanted to say that he had written another letter to ask for things for others, but he had lost his tongue. Just then, however, Santa Claus put up his hand and pulled out another letter.

“Now,” he said, as he glanced at it, “this is more like it. He is improving. I see he has asked for a lot of things for a friend of his named Johnny. Johnny Stout—who is he? It seems to me I hardly remember him or where he lives.”

“Yes,” said Johnny, stepping up. “That’s me. He gave me a sled, too, and he made it himself.” Santa Claus turned and looked at him and his expression turned to a smile; in fact, Tommy thought he really winked at Johnny.

“Oh, I know that sled. It was a pretty good sled, too,” he said.

This gave Tommy courage, and he stepped forward and said, “He lives in a little bit of a house near our place—just that way—” He turned and pointed. “I’ll show it to you when you come.”

“Good,” said Santa Claus. “I’ll show it to you and you show it to me. We are apt to overlook those little houses. So you are Tommy Trot?” he said. “Glad to see you,” and he turned and held out his hand to Tommy. “I sent my reindeer to fetch you and I am glad you made that sled, for it is only a sled made for others that can get up here. You see, everything here, except the North Pole, is made for some one else, and that’s the reason we have such a good time up here. If you like, I’ll take you around and show you and Johnny our shops.” This was exactly what Tommy wanted, so he thanked him politely.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” said Santa Claus to the lady, “for as soon as the boys are all asleep I must set out. I have a great many stockings to fill this year. See that everything is ready. Come along, boys,” and next minute they were going through room after room and shop after shop, filled with so many things that Tommy could not keep them straight in his mind. He wondered how any one could have thought of so many things, except his mother, of course; she always thought of everything for everyone. Some of them he wished for, but every time he thought of wanting a thing for himself the lights got dim, so that he stopped thinking about himself at all, and turned to speak to Johnny, but he was gone.

Presently Santa Claus said: “These are just my stores. Now we will go and see where some of these things are made.” He gave a whistle, and the next second up dashed a sled with a team of reindeer in it, and who was there holding the reins but Johnny, with his little cap perched on the top of his head! At Tommy’s surprise Santa Claus gave a laugh that made him shake all over like a bowl full of jelly, quite as Tommy had read he did in a poem he had learned the Christmas before, called “The Night Before Christmas, when all through the house.”

“That comes of knowing how to drive goats,” said Santa Claus. “Johnny knows a lot and I am going to give him a job, because he works so hard,” and with that Tommy’s boots suddenly jumped him into the sled, and Santa Claus stepped in behind him and pulled up a big robe over them.

“Here goes,” he said, and at the word they turned the corner, and there was a gate of ice that looked like the mirrored doors in Tommy’s mother’s room, which opened before them, and they dashed along between great piles of things, throwing them on both sides like snow from a sled-runner, and before Tommy knew it they were gliding along a road, which Tommy felt he had seen somewhere before, though he could not remember where. The houses on the roadside did not seem to have any front-walls at all, and everywhere the people within were working like beavers; some sewing, some cutting out, some sawing and hammering, all making something, all laughing or smiling. They were mostly dressed like grown-up people, but when they turned their faces they all looked young. Tommy was wondering why this was, when Santa Claus said that was because they were “Working for others. They grow young every Christmas. This is Christmas Land and Kindness Town.” They turned another corner and were whisking by a little house, inside of which was some one sewing for dear life on a jacket. Tommy knew the place by the little backyard.

“Stop, stop!” he cried, pointing. “That’s Johnny’s home and that’s Johnny’s mother sewing. She’s laughing. I expect she’s making that for Johnny.”

“Where?” asked Santa Claus, turning. Tommy pointed back, “There, there!” but they had whisked around a corner.

“I was so busy looking at that big house that I did not see it,” said Santa Claus.

“That’s our house,” said Tommy. “I tell you what,” he said presently, “if I get anything—I’ll give him some.” Santa Claus smiled.

So they dashed along, making all sorts of turns and curves, through streets lined with shops full of Christmas things and thronged with people hurrying along with their arms full of bundles; out again into the open; by little houses half buried in snow, with a light shining dimly through their upper windows; on through forests of Christmas trees, hung with toys and not yet lighted, and presently in a wink were again at Santa Claus’s home, in a great hall. All along the sides were cases filled with all sorts of toys, guns, uniforms, sleds, skates, snow-shoes, fur gloves, fur coats, books, toy-dogs, ponies, goats, cows, everything.

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