The Seattle Star

These are the days when the grown folk wish they were children and the children wish they were billionaires. Small blame to either when every show window in the shopping district is a dream of beauty and joy—well, until after the holidays at the very earliest.

It is a brave show and one that will color youthful dreams for nights to come.

The Seattle business man never does a thing by halves, and there is no mistaking the quality or quantity of his Christmas preparations.

If Rip Van Winkle were to be wakened from his 20-year sleep and set down in the middle of the retail district today he could tell you the day of the month without hesitation, though he would probably be slightly hazy as to the year.

Visit to Fairyland

In all the length and breadth of the land there will be found no braver Christmas show than that to be seen today on First and Second avenues and other retail streets.

A walk down town would afford artistic pleasure to an octogenarian. But, to make the same journey and view the Christmas glories from a child's point of view is to take a journey through fairyland. The show windows become charmed grottos and the shop girls beautiful fairies—no insinuation intended—who but await the touch of the magic wand to shower gifts upon the rising generation.

Heaps of Toys

Here are heaps of beautiful red and blue and gold wagons with shining wheels; coasters with "ruby truly" brakes and "Ajax" and "Dexter" painted on their gaudy seats; velocipedes that would put to shame the best automobile that ever elf ped a record; hook and ladder trucks with real gongs; baseball bats, lovely ones with "championship" printed on the side; locomotives drawing long trains of genuine Pullman coaches so true to life that you catch yourself listening for the conductor's familiar "fare, please"; drums and drums and drums, all of them beautiful and capable of making enough noise to call a regiment to arms in far-off Fort Lawton; and stacks and piles upon piles of other things, each individual one of which is the very thing you have been wishing for most for months and months.

And you know that it is all real, too, for is not there, right in the middle of the heaped-up splendor, a counterfeit presentment of Old Santa Claus himself? Mamma will have to say, "No, darling," many times before the rounds are all made.

Oh, will Christmas ever come?

In Doll's Domain

Over in this other window are the dolls, each one more fascinating than the other. Dolls with gray eyes, dolls with black eyes; blue-eyed beauties with Titian tresses; blondes, brunettes; dolls with their hair done up just like a lady; dolls with the most beautiful gowns with real Books—Denny Coryell Co.

Dancing Classes

Professor Wilson at Ranke Hall Monday and Friday evenings. Waltz lessons daily.
berries, bales of ferns, boxes of Christmas trees of all sizes from the tiny one for the baby to the 30-footer for the Sunday school. Added to these in riotous confusion are piles of every kind of evergreen to be found in this wonderful country of wonderful greenery.

All day long and particularly during the afternoon and evening hours, the street cars are crowded with Christmas shoppers returning with their spoils. Doll buggies, Christmas trees, rocking chairs, holly wreaths and all the endless variety of toys and packages poke the unwary passenger in the eye or stab him in the ribs.

These little mishaps are taken with the good nature that goes with the season, and it is a pleasure to know that the 25-cent doll that the poorly dressed woman in the corner is taking home will carry with it as much joy to some little heart as will the diamond ring the well dressed gentleman has in his pocket as a Christmas present for some member of his family.