Moses Pennyweighter was evil. No better word could be used to describe him, not at Christmas and not by those truly knowing the shriveled little man. Most though who lived in Millageville, working themselves ragged in his factory to buy another month's stay in his houses, groceries at his supermarket, and everything else in their lives from his department store, did not know him, did not know him at all. "Good Mr. Pennyweighter," the people of Millageville would say at the very mention of the sweet old man's name. And there would be a warming of hearts as every child in town dreamed of the toys at his department store and of how next Christmas their fathers might be able to put together enough money to buy a toy for them.
