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“I’ve come at last，”said he．“She has kept me out for a long time，but I have got in at last．Aslan is on the move．The Witch’s magic is weakening．”
And Lucy felt running through her that deep shiver of gladness which you only get if you are being solemn and still．
“And now，”said Father Christmas，“for your presents．There is a new and better sewing machine for you，Mrs. Beaver．I will drop it in your house as，I pass．”
“If you please，sir，”said Mrs. Beaver，making a curtsey．“It’s locked up．”
“Locks and bolts make no difference to me，”said Father Christmas．“And as for you，Mr. Beaver，when you get home you will find your dam finished and mended and all the leaks stopped and a new sluicegate fitted．”
Mr. Beaver was so pleased that he opened his mouth very wide and then found he couldn’t say anything at all．
“Peter，Adam’s Son，”said Father Christmas．
“Here，sir，”said Peter．
“These are your presents，”was the answer，“and they are tools not toy
