Here is a little Santa Claus Story, I hope you will enjoy....
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The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus How Bessie Blithesome Came to the Laughing Valley One day, as Claus sat before his door to enjoy the sunshine while
he busily carved the head and horns of a toy deer, he looked up
and discovered a glittering cavalcade of horsemen approaching through
the Valley.
When they drew nearer he saw that the band consisted of a score of
men-at-arms, clad in bright armor and bearing in their hands spears
and battle-axes. In front of these rode little Bessie Blithesome, the
pretty daughter of that proud Lord of Lerd who had once driven Claus
from his palace. Her palfrey was pure white, its bridle was covered
with glittering gems, and its saddle draped with cloth of gold,
richly broidered. The soldiers were sent to protect her from harm
while she journeyed.
Claus was surprised, but he continued to whittle and to sing until the
cavalcade drew up before him. Then the little girl leaned over the
neck of her palfrey and said:
"Please, Mr. Claus, I want a toy!"
Her voice was so pleading that Claus jumped up at once and stood
beside her. But he was puzzled how to answer her request.
"You are a rich lord's daughter," said he, "and have all that
you desire."
"Except toys," added Bessie. "There are no toys in all the world
but yours."
"And I make them for the poor children, who have nothing else to amuse
them," continued Claus.
"Do poor children love to play with toys more than rich ones?"
asked Bessie.
"I suppose not," said Claus, thoughtfully.
"Am I to blame because my father is a lord? Must I be denied the
pretty toys I long for because other children are poorer than I?" she
inquired earnestly.
"I'm afraid you must, dear," he answered; "for the poor have nothing
else with which to amuse themselves. You have your pony to ride, your
servants to wait on you, and every comfort that money can procure."
"But I want toys!" cried Bessie, wiping away the tears that forced
themselves into her eyes. "If I can not have them, I shall be
very unhappy."
Claus was troubled, for her grief recalled to him the thought that his
desire was to make all children happy, without regard to their
condition in life. Yet, while so many poor children were clamoring
for his toys he could not bear to give one to them to Bessie
Blithesome, who had so much already to make her happy.
"Listen, my child," said he, gently; "all the toys I am now making are
promised to others. But the next shall be yours, since your heart
so longs for it. Come to me again in two days and it shall be ready
for you."
Bessie gave a cry of delight, and leaning over her pony's neck she
kissed Claus prettily upon his forehead. Then, calling to her
men-at-arms, she rode gaily away, leaving Claus to resume his work.
"If I am to supply the rich children as well as the poor ones," he
thought, "I shall not have a spare moment in the whole year! But is
it right I should give to the rich? Surely I must go to Necile and
talk with her about this matter."
So when he had finished the toy deer, which was very like a deer
he had known in the Forest glades, he walked into Burzee and made
his way to the bower of the beautiful Nymph Necile, who had been
his foster mother.
She greeted him tenderly and lovingly, listening with interest to his
story of the visit of Bessie Blithesome.
"And now tell me," said he, "shall I give toys to rich children?"
"We of the Forest know nothing of riches," she replied. "It seems to
me that one child is like another child, since they are all made of
the same clay, and that riches are like a gown, which may be put on or
taken away, leaving the child unchanged. But the Fairies are
guardians of mankind, and know mortal children better than I. Let us
call the Fairy Queen."
This was done, and the Queen of the Fairies sat beside them and heard
Claus relate his reasons for thinking the rich children could get
along without his toys, and also what the Nymph had said.
"Necile is right," declared the Queen; "for, whether it be rich or
poor, a child's longings for pretty playthings are but natural. Rich
Bessie's heart may suffer as much grief as poor Mayrie's; she can be
just as lonely and discontented, and just as gay and happy. I think,
friend Claus, it is your duty to make all little ones glad, whether
they chance to live in palaces or in cottages."
"Your words are wise, fair Queen," replied Claus, "and my heart tells
me they are as just as they are wise. Hereafter all children may
claim my services."
Then he bowed before the gracious Fairy and, kissing Necile's red
lips, went back into his Valley.
At the brook he stopped to drink, and afterward he sat on the bank and
took a piece of moist clay in his hands while he thought what sort of
toy he should make for Bessie Blithesome. He did not notice that his
fingers were working the clay into shape until, glancing downward, he
found he had unconsciously formed a head that bore a slight resemblance
to the Nymph Necile!
At once he became interested. Gathering more of the clay from the
bank he carried it to his house. Then, with the aid of his knife and
a bit of wood he succeeded in working the clay into the image of a toy
nymph. With skillful strokes he formed long, waving hair on the head
and covered the body with a gown of oakleaves, while the two feet
sticking out at the bottom of the gown were clad in sandals.
But the clay was soft, and Claus found he must handle it gently to
avoid ruining his pretty work.
"Perhaps the rays of the sun will draw out the moisture and cause the
clay to become hard," he thought. So he laid the image on a flat
board and placed it in the glare of the sun.
This done, he went to his bench and began painting the toy deer, and
soon he became so interested in the work that he forgot all about the
clay nymph. But next morning, happening to notice it as it lay on the
board, he found the sun had baked it to the hardness of stone, and it
was strong enough to be safely handled.
Claus now painted the nymph with great care in the likeness of Necile,
giving it deep-blue eyes, white teeth, rosy lips and ruddy-brown hair.
The gown he colored oak-leaf green, and when the paint was dry Claus
himself was charmed with the new toy. Of course it was not nearly so
lovely as the real Necile; but, considering the material of which it
was made, Claus thought it was very beautiful.
When Bessie, riding upon her white palfrey, came to his dwelling next
day, Claus presented her with the new toy. The little girl's eyes
were brighter than ever as she examined the pretty image, and she
loved it at once, and held it close to her breast, as a mother does to
her child.
"What is it called, Claus?" she asked.
Now Claus knew that Nymphs do not like to be spoken of by mortals, so
he could not tell Bessie it was an image of Necile he had given her.
But as it was a new toy he searched his mind for a new name to call it
by, and the first word he thought of he decided would do very well.
"It is called a dolly, my dear," he said to Bessie.
"I shall call the dolly my baby," returned Bessie, kissing it fondly;
"and I shall tend it and care for it just as Nurse cares for me.
Thank you very much, Claus; your gift has made me happier than I have
ever been before!"
Then she rode away, hugging the toy in her arms, and Claus, seeing her
delight, thought he would make another dolly, better and more natural
than the first.
He brought more clay from the brook, and remembering that Bessie had
called the dolly her baby he resolved to form this one into a baby's
image. That was no difficult task to the clever workman, and soon the
baby dolly was lying on the board and placed in the sun to dry. Then,
with the clay that was left, he began to make an image of Bessie
Blithesome herself.
This was not so easy, for he found he could not make the silken robe
of the lord's daughter out of the common clay. So he called the
Fairies to his aid, and asked them to bring him colored silks with
which to make a real dress for the clay image. The Fairies set off at
once on their errand, and before nightfall they returned with a
generous supply of silks and laces and golden threads.
Claus now became impatient to complete his new dolly, and instead of
waiting for the next day's sun he placed the clay image upon his
hearth and covered it over with glowing coals. By morning, when he
drew the dolly from the ashes, it had baked as hard as if it had lain
a full day in the hot sun.
Now our Claus became a dressmaker as well as a toymaker. He cut the
lavender silk, and nearly sewed it into a beautiful gown that just
fitted the new dolly. And he put a lace collar around its neck and
pink silk shoes on its feet. The natural color of baked clay is a
light gray, but Claus painted the face to resemble the color of flesh,
and he gave the dolly Bessie's brown eyes and golden hair and rosy cheeks.
It was really a beautiful thing to look upon, and sure to bring joy to
some childish heart. While Claus was admiring it he heard a knock at
his door, and little Mayrie entered. Her face was sad and her eyes
red with continued weeping.
"Why, what has grieved you, my dear?" asked Claus, taking the child in
his arms.
"I've--I've--bwoke my tat!" sobbed Mayrie.
"How?" he inquired, his eyes twinkling.
"I--I dwopped him, an' bwoke off him's tail; an'--an'--then I dwopped
him an' bwoke off him's ear! An'--an' now him's all spoilt!"
Claus laughed.
"Never mind, Mayrie dear," he said. "How would you like this new
dolly, instead of a cat?"
Mayrie looked at the silk-robed dolly and her eyes grew big
with astonishment.
"Oh, Tlaus!" she cried, clapping her small hands together with
rapture; "tan I have 'at boo'ful lady?"
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"I love it!" said she. "It's better 'an tats!"
"Then take it, dear, and be careful not to break it."
Mayrie took the dolly with a joy that was almost reverent, and her
face dimpled with smiles as she started along the path toward home.
Lyman Frank Baum, 1856-1919
