it seemed that santa claus, never having visited hannah before, had a mind to make up for lost time. an overflowing stocking hung from the mantel; a tree loaded with presents and tinsel stood by her bed; about the room were placed large gifts, everything a little girl might wish for. hannah was dazed. she didn't see her mother and father standing in the doorway of the nursery, their arms about each other, and smiling. she tugged at her window until it opened and then called to nellie across the intervening space.

"he came! he came!" she screamed, as a tousled, flame-colored head showed at the window opposite.

hannah brushed by her parents and, running to the window nearest virginia's room, repeated her message. then she came back into the nursery, still oblivious of mother and father, and stared about her in ecstasy. the occasion called for some expression of thanksgiving—what could it be? a seven-year-old child hasn't words for such a big emotion. she could think of but one thing to do.

reverently bowing her little bronze head, she made the sign of the cross—upside down!