It's Saturday.
Then Santa Claus said that he understood he was living now down along the Verdigris River, and asked him if he had ever met up, down yonder, with two little young girls named Mary and Laura. Mr. Edwards replied that he surely was acquainted with them. Santa Claus said that it rested heavy on his mind that they were both of them sweet, pretty, good little young things, and he knew they were expecting him, and he surely did hate to disappoint two good little girls like them, yet with the water up the way it was, he couldn’t ever make it across the creek, and he could figure no way whatsoever to get to their cabin this year. And Santa Claus asked Mr. Edwards if he would do him the favor to fetch them their gifts this one time. Mr. Edwards told him that he would do that and with pleasure. Then Santa Claus and Mr. Edwards stepped across the street to the hitching-posts where the pack-mule was tied. Laura asked if he hadn’t had his reindeer. Mary said that she knew he couldn’t because there wasn’t any snow. Exactly, said Mr. Edwards. Santa Claus traveled with a pack-mule in the southwest. And Santa Claus uncinched the pack and looked through it, and he took out the presents for Mary and Laura. Laura cried what they were, but Mary asked what he did then. Then he shook hands with Mr. Edwards, and he swung up on his fine bay horse. Santa Claus rode well for a man of his weight and build. And he tucked his long, white whiskers under his bandana. He said so long to Mr. Edwards, and he rode away on the Fort Dodge trail, leading his pack-mule and whistling. Laura and Mary were silent an instant, thinking of that. Then Ma told them that they might look now.
