christmas was near, and there were only a few pennies in teddy's apple bank.
"i'm afraid i won't have money enough to buy them, mummie," said teddy wistfully. "won't you—" his eyes looked the question his lips wanted to ask.
"no, teddy," said his mother. "for then it would be my present instead of yours."
"but arthur's hands get so cold carrying the clothes!" teddy's eyes fell to his own hands, which were always snug and warm in their red mittens. the washerwoman's little boy had no mittens.
"earn some money, teddy," suggested his mother.
teddy's face fell. "how can i?" he said.
"keep your eyes open and do the thing they tell you to do."
"all right," answered teddy. "i'll try."
at that moment father sun, who had been peeping through the window, slipped behind a cloud.
peeping through the window, slipped behind a cloud.
"children," he said to the little clouds, "there's a boy down below who wants to earn money to buy mittens for a boy who hasn't any. i want you to help him."
"we will, father sun," cried the little clouds. then the sky began to grow so dark that the earth people looked up and said, "i do believe it's going to snow!" and it did.
soon the air was filled with great fluffy, whirling flakes, tumbling eagerly down to help teddy.
"not so close!" cried the first flake as the others came down on top of him. "we'll make it too hard for teddy if we pack tight together."
"that's so!" cried the others. and so they settled very, very gently.
all night the snowflakes fell. in the morning father sun poked his head out from behind a cloud.
"my, my! how fine the earth looks!" he exclaimed. "i think that's about enough, children." and father sun smiled so broadly that the earth people said, "how dazzling the sun is!" and squinted, and rubbed their eyes.
when the last flake had settled in its place, teddy buttoned on his leggings to go out.
"are you keeping your eyes open this morning, teddy?" asked his mother.
teddy laughed. "of course," he said. "i couldn't see if—" then he stopped abruptly. "it is a way, isn't it, mummie!" he cried.
"yes," she said. "i think i hear twenty-five cents dropping into the apple. i will give you that much if you will shovel a path to the gate."
"goody!" cried teddy. then he hunted up the snow shovel and fell to work.
"teddy! teddy!" teddy looked up. the old lady across the way was standing in her door. "i'll give you a quarter if you'll clean my walk."
"all right!" teddy shouted back. and then how the snow did fly as he dug and scraped and shoveled!
"my, my!" said father sun. "what an industrious boy!" and he smiled till teddy grew quite warm, and the busy hands in the red mittens were never once cold.
when the day was over, four bright quarters lay snugly in the apple bank.
the day before christmas teddy emptied the bank and went shopping. and that night, when the washerwoman's boy came for the clothes, on top of the basket lay, not mittens, but a pair of thick gloves lined with wool.
father sun was so happy about it that he smiled all christmas day. and so did arthur. and so—more brightly than either—did teddy.