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06 - The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus - L Frank Baum · Classic Adventure Books Library

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Chapter four of Santa Claus's Adulthood. How little Mayre became frightened. The winter
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was over now, and all the laughing valley was filled with joyous excitement.
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The brook was so happy at being free once again that it gurgled more boisterously
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than ever, and dashed so recklessly against the rocks that it sent showers of
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spray high in the air. The grass thrust its sharp little blades upward through
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the mat of dead stalks, where it had hidden from the snow, But
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the flowers were yet too timid to show themselves. Although the rills were busy
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feeding their roots. The sun was in remarkably good humor and sent his rays
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dancing merrily throughout the valley. Claws was eating his dinner one day when he
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heard a timid knock on his door. Come in, he called, No
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one entered, but after a pause came another rapping. Claws jumped up and
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threw open the door. Before him stood a small girl holding a smaller brother
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fast by the hand. Is you, Claws, she asked shyly. Indeed,
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I am, my dear, he answered with a laugh, as he
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caught both children in his arms and kissed them. You are very welcome,
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and you have come just in time to share my dinner. He took them
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to the table and fed them with fresh milk and nut cakes. When they
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had eaten enough, he asked, why have you made this long journey to
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see me? I want a tat, replied little Mayre, and her brother,
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who had not yet learned to speak many words, nodded his head and
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exclaimed, like an echo, tat, oh you want my toy cats,
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do you? Returned Klaws, greatly, pleased to discover that his creations were
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so popular with children. The little visitors nodded eagerly. Unfortunately, he continued,
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I have but one cat now ready for I carried two to children in
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town yesterday, and the one I have shall be given to your brother Mary,
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because he is the smaller, and the next one I make shall be
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for you. The boy's face was bright with smiles as he took the precious
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toy Claws held out to him. But little Mary covered her face with her
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arm and began to sob grievously. I I I wota dit t tat now,
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she wailed. Her disappointment made Claws feel miserable for a moment. Then
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he suddenly remembered Chiagra. Don't cry, darling, he said soothingly, I
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have a toy much nicer than a cat, and you shall have that.
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He went to the cupboard and drew out the image of the lioness, which
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he placed on the table before Mayy. The girl raised her arm and gave
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one glance at the fierce teeth and glaring eyes of the beast, and then,
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uttering a terrified scream, she rushed from the house. The boy followed
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her, also screaming lustily and even dropping his precious cat in his fear.
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For a moment, Claw stood motionless, being puzzled and astonished. Then he
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threw Chiagra's image into the cupboard and ran after the children, calling to them
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not to be frightened. Little Mayy stopped in her flight, and her brother
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clung to her skirt, but they both cast fearful glances at the house until
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Claws had assured them many times that the beast had been locked in the cupboard.
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Yet why were you frightened at seeing it? He asked? It is
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only a toy to play with. It's bad, said Mayre, decidedly,
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and and just horrid and not a bit nice like tats. Perhaps you are
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right, returned Claws thoughtfully. But if you will return with me to the
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house, I will soon make you a pretty cat. So they timidly entered
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the house again, having faith in their friend's words, and afterward they had
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the joy of watching Claws carve out a cat from a bit of wood and
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painted in natural colors. It did not take him long to do this,
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for he had become skillful with his knife by this time, and Mayre loved
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her toy the more dearly because she had seen it made. After his little
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visitors had trotted away on their journey homeward, Claws sat long in deep thought,
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and he then decided that such fierce creatures as his friend the Lioness,
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would never do as models from which to fashion his toys. There must be
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nothing to frighten the dear babes, he reflected, And while I know she
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I grow well and am not afraid of her, it is but natural that
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children should look upon her image with terror. Hereafter, I will choose such
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mild mannered animals as squirrels and rabbits, and deer and lambkins from which to
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carve my toys, For then the little ones will love rather than fear them.
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He began his work that very day, and before bedtime had made a
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wooden rabbit and lamb. They were not quite so lifelike as the cats had
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been, because they were formed from memory, while Blinkie had sat very still
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for Claws to look at while he worked. But the new toys pleased the
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children nevertheless, and the fame of Claws's playthings quickly spread to every cottage on
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plain and in village. He always carried his gifts to the sick or crippled
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children, but those who were strong enough walked to the house in the valley
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to ask for them. So a little path was soon worn from the plain
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to the door of the toy maker's cottage. First came the children who had
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been playmates of Claws before he began to make toys. These, you may
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be sure, were well supplied. Then children who lived farther away heard of
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the wonderful images and made journeys to the valley to secure them. All the
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little ones were welcome, and never a one went away empty handed. This
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demand for his handiwork kept Claws busily occupied, but he was quite happy in
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knowing the pleasure he gave to so many of the dear children. His friends,
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the immortals, were pleased with his success and supported him bravely. The
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Knook selected for him clear pieces of soft wood that his knife might not be
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blunted in cutting them. The Rills kept him supplied with paints of all colors
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and brushes fashioned from the tips of timothy grasses. The fairies discovered that the
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workmen needed saws and chisels, and hammers and nails as well as knives,
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and brought him a goodly array of such tools. Claws soon turned his living
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room into a most wonderful workshop. He built a bench before the window,
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and arranged his tools and paints so that he could reach everything. As he
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sat on his stool, and as he finished toy after toy to delight the
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hearts of little children, he found himself growing so gay and happy that he
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could not refrain from singing and laughing and whistling all day long. It's because
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I live in the Laughing Valley, where everything else laughs, said Claws.
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But that was not the reason. And of chapter chapter five of Claus's adulthood,
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how Bessie Blithesome came to the Laughing Valley one day as Claws sat before
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his door to enjoy the sunshine. While he busily carved the head and horns
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of a toy deer. He looked up and discovered a glittering cavalcade of horsemen
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approaching through the valley. When they drew nearer, he saw that the band
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consisted of a score of men at arms, clad in bright armor, and
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bearing in their hands spears and battle axes. In front of these rode little
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Bessie Blithesome, the pretty daughter of that proud Lord of Lurd who had once
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driven Claws from his palace. Her palfrey was pure white, Its bridle was
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covered with glittering gems, and its saddle draped with cloth of gold richly broidered.
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The soldiers were sent to protect her from heart while she journeyed. Claus
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was surprised, but he continued to whittle and to sing until the cavalcade drew
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up before him. Then the little girl leaned over the neck of her palfrey
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and said, please, mister Claws, I want a toy. Her voice
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was so pleading that Claws jumped up at once and stood beside her. But
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he was puzzled how to answer her request. You are a rich lord's daughter,
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said he, and have all that you desire except toys. Added Bessie,
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there are no toys in all the world but yours, and I make
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them for the poor children who have nothing else to amuse them, continued Claws.
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Do poor children love to play with toys more than rich ones? Asked
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Bessie. I suppose not, said Claws. Thoughtfully, Am I to blame
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because my father is a lord? Must I be denied the pretty toys I
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long for? Because other children are poorer than I? She inquired earnestly.
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I am afraid you must, dear, he answered, for the poor have
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nothing else with which to amuse themselves. You have your pony to ride,
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your servants to wait on you, and every comfort that money can procure.
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But I want toys, cried Bessy, wiping away the tears that forced themselves
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into her eyes. If I cannot have them, I shall be very unhappy.
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Claws, was troubled for her grief, recalled to him the thought that
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his desire was to make all children happy, without regard to their condition in
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life. Yet while so many poor children were clamoring for his toys, he
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could not bear to give one of them to Bessy Blithesome, who had so
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much already to make happy. Listen, my child, he said gently.
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All the toys I am now making are promise to others, but the next
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shall be yours, Since your heart so longs for it, Come to me
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again in two days, and it shall be ready for you. Bessy gave
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a cry of delight, and leaning over her pony's neck, she kissed Claws
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prettily upon his forehead. Then, calling to her men at arms, she
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rode gaily away, leaving Claws to resume his work. If I am to
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supply the rich children as well as the poor ones, he thought, I
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shall not have a spare moment in the whole year. But is it right
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I should give to the rich. Surely I must go to Nursielle and talk
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with her about this matter. So, when he had finished the toy deer,
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which was very like a deer he had known in the forest glades,
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he walked into Bursey and made his way to the bower of the beautiful nymph
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Necile, who had been his foster mother. She greeted him tenderly and lovingly,
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listening with interest to his story of the visit of Bessie blythsome, and
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now tell me, said he, shall I give toys to rich children?
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We of the forest know nothing of riches, she replied. It seems to
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me that one child is like another child, since they are all made of
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the same clay, and that riches are like a gown which may be put
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on or taken away, leaving the child unchanged. But the fairies are guardians
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of mankind, and no mortal children better than I. Let us call the
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fairy queen. This was done, and the Queen of the fairies sat beside
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them and heard Claws relate his reasons for thinking the rich children could get along
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without his toys, and also what the nymph had said. Nesille is right,
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declared the queen. For whether it be rich or poor, a child's
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longings for pretty playthings are but natural. Rich Bessie's heart may suffer as much
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grief as poor Mary's. She can be just as lonely and discontented, and
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just as gay and happy. I think, friend Claws, it is your
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duty to make all little ones glad, whether they chanced to live in palaces
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or in cottages. Your words are wise, fair, queen, replied Claws,
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And my heart tells me they are just as they are. Wise hereafter
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all children may claim my services. Then he bowed before the gracious fairy,
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and, kissing miss SEL's red lips, went back into his valley. At
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the brook, he stopped to drink, and afterward he sat on the bank
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and took a piece of moist clay in his hands. While he thought what
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sort of toy he should make for Bessy Blithesome. He did not notice that
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his fingers were working the clay into shape, until glancing downward, he found
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he had unconsciously formed a head that bore a slight resemblance to the nymphnos seal.
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At once he became interested. Gathering more of the clay from the bank,
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he carried it to his house. Then, with the aid of his
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knife and a bit of wood, he succeeded in working the clay into the
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image of a toy nymph. With skillful strokes, he formed long, waving
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hair on the head and covered the body with a gown of oak leaves,
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while the two feet sticking out at the bottom of the gown were clad in
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sandals. But the clay was soft and claws found he must handle it gently
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to avoid ruining his pretty work. Perhaps the rays of the sun will draw
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out the moisture and cause the clay to become hard, he thought, So
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he laid the image on a flat board and placed it in the glare of
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the sun. This done, he went to his bench and began painting the
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toy deer, and soon he became so interested in the work that he forgot
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all about the clay nymph. But next morning, happening to notice it as
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it lay on the board, he found the sun had baked it to the
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hardness of stone, and it was strong enough to be safely handled. Claws
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now painted the nymph with great care, in the likeness of nasille, giving
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it deep blue eyes, white teeth, rosy lips, and ruddy brown hair.
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The gown he colored oak leaf green, and when the paint was dry,
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Claws himself was charmed with the new toy. Of course, it was
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not nearly so lovely as the real nessile, but considering the material of which
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it was made, Claws thought it was very beautiful. When Bessie, riding
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upon her white palfrey, came to his dwelling next day, Claws presented her
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with the new toy. The little girl's eyes were brighter than ever as she
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examined the pretty image, and she loved it at once and held it close
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to her breast as a mother does to her child. What is it called,
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Claws, she asked. Now, Claws knew that nymphs do not like
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to be spoken of by mortals, so he could not tell Bessie it was
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an image of nessile he had given her. But as it was a new
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toy, he searched his mind for a new name to call it by,
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and the first word he thought of he decided would do very well. It
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is called a dolly, my dear, he said to Bessy. I shall
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call the dolly my baby, returned Bessie, kissing it fondly, and I
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shall tend it and care for it just as nurse cares for me. Thank
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you very much, Claws, your gift has made me happier than I have
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ever been before. Then she rode away, hugging the toy in her arms,
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and Claw, seeing her delight, thought he would make another dolly,
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better and more natural than the first. He brought more clay from the brook,
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and, remembering that Bessie had called the dolly her baby, he resolved
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to form this one into a baby's image. That was no difficult task to
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the clever workman, and soon the baby doll was lying on the board and
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placed in the sun to dry. Then, with the clay that was left,
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he began to make an image of Bessie Blithesome herself. This was not
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so easy, for he found he could not make the silken robe of the
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lord's daughter out of common clay. So he called the fairies to his aid
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and asked them to bring him colored silks with which to make a real dress
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for the clay image. The fairyes set off at once on their errand,
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and before nightfall they returned with a generous supply of silks and laces and golden
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threads. Claws now became impatient to complete his new dolly, and instead of
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waiting for the next day's sun, he placed the clay image upon his hearth
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and covered it over with glowing coals. By morning, when he drew the
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dolly from the ashes, it had baked as hard as if it had lain
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a full day in the hot sun. Now our Claws became a dressmaker as
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well as a toy maker. He cut the lavender silk and nearly sewed it
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into a beautiful gown that just fitted the new dolly, and he put a
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lace collar around its neck and pink silk shoes on its feet. The natural
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color of baked clay is a light gray, but Claws painted the face to
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resemble the color of flesh, and he gave the dolly Bessie's brown eyes and
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golden hair and rosy cheeks. It was really a beautiful thing to look upon,
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and sure to bring joy to some childish heart. While Claws was admiring
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it, he heard a knock at his door, and little Mayre entered.
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Her face was sad and her eyes red with continued weeping. Why what has
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grieved you, my dear, asked Claws, taking the child in his arms.
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I've I've poke my tat, sobbed may How, he inquired, his
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eyes twinkling. I I dwopped him and boke him's tail off, and and
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then I dwopped him and broke off him's ear, and and now Hymn's all
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spoilt. Claws laughed, never mind, Mayrie, dear, He said,
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how would you like this new dolly instead of a cat? Mayy looked at
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the silk robe, Dolly, and her eyes grew big with astonishment. Oh
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claws, she cried, clapping her small hands together with rapture. Can I
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have that? Booful lady? Do you like it? He asked? I
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love it, said she. It's better an tats. Then take it,
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dear, and be careful not to break it. May took the Dolly with
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a joy that was almost reverent, and her face dimpled with smiles as she
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started along the path toward home. End of chapter five