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05 - Manhood Part 2 · The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus

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Chapter two, How Claws made the first toy. Truly, our claws had
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wisdom for his good fortune, but strengthened his resolve to befriend the little ones
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of his own race. He knew his plan was approved by the immortals,
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else they would not have favored him so greatly. So he began at once
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to make acquaintance with mankind. He walked through the valley to the plain beyond,
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and crossed the plain in many directions to reach the abodes of men.
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These stood stingly or in groups of dwellings called villages, And in nearly all
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the houses, whether big or little, Claws found children. The youngsters soon
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came to know his merry, laughing face and the kind glance of his bright
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eyes. And the parents, while they regarded the young man with some scorn
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for loving children more than their elders, were content that the girls and boys
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had found and a playfellow who seemed willing to amuse them. So the children
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romped and played games with Claws, and the boys rode upon his shoulders,
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and the girls nestled in his strong arms, and the babies clung fondly to
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his knees. Wherever the young man chanced to be the sound of childish laughter
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followed him. And to understand this better, you must know that children were
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much neglected in those days, and received little attention from their parents, so
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that it became to them a marvel that so goodly a man as Claws devoted
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his time to making them happy, And those who knew him were, you
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may be sure, very happy. Indeed, the sad faces of the poor
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and abused grew bright, for once the cripple smile despite his misfortune. The
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ailing ones hushed their moans, and the grieved ones their cries when their merry
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friend came nigh to comfort them. Only at the beautiful palace of the Lord
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of Lurd, and at the frowning castle of the barren Brown was Claw's refused
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admittance. There were children at both places, but the servants at the palace
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shut the door in the young stranger's face, and the fierce baron threatened to
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hang him from an iron hook on the castle walls, whereupon Claws sighed and
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went back to the poorer dwellings, where he was welcome. After a time,
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the winter drew near. The flowers lived out their lives and faded,
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and disappeared. The beetles burrowed far into the warm earth, and the butterflies
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deserted the meadows, and the voice of the brook grew hoarse, as if
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it had taken cold. One day, snowflakes filled all the air in the
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Laughing valley, dancing boisterously toward the earth, and clothing in pure white raiment
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the roof of Claws's dwelling. At night, Jack Frost rapped at the door.
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Come in, cried Claws. Come out, answered Jack, for you
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have a fire inside. So Claws came out. He had known Jack Frost
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in the forest and liked the jolly rogue, even while he mistrusted him.
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There will be rare sport for me to night, Claws shouted the sprite.
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Isn't this glorious weather? I shall nip scores of noses and ears and toes
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before daybreak. If you love me, Jack, spare the children, begged
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Claws, And why, asked the other in surprise. They are tender and
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helpless, answered Claws. But I love to nip the tender ones, declared
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Jack. The older ones are tough and tire my fingers. The young ones
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are weak and cannot fight. You, said Claws true, agreed Jack thoughtfully.
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Well, I will not pinch a child this night, if I can
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resist the temptation, he promised. Good night, Claws, good night.
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The young man went in and closed the door, and Jack Frost ran on
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to the nearest village. Claws threw a log on the fire, which burned
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up brightly. Beside the hearth sat Blinky, a big cat given him by
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Peter the Nook. Her fur was soft and glossy, and she purred never
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ending songs of contentment. I shall not see the children again soon, said
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Claws to the cat, who kindly paused in her song to listen. The
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winter is upon us. The snow will be deep for many days, and
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I shall be unable to play with my little friends. The cat raised a
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paw and stroked her nose thoughtfully, but made no reply. So long as
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the fire burned and Claws sat in his easy chair by the she did not
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mind the weather. So passed many days and many long evenings. The cupboard
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was always full, but Claws became weary with having nothing to do more than
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to feed the fire from the big wood pile the knooks had brought him.
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One evening, he picked up a stick of wood and began to cut it
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with his sharp knife. He had no thought at first except to occupy his
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time, and he whistled and sang to the cat as he carved away portions
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of the stick. Puss sat up on her haunches and watched him, listening
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at the same time to her master's merry whistle, which she loved to hear,
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even more than her own purring songs. Claws glanced at Puss, and
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then at the stick he was whittling, until presently the wood began to have
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a shape, and the shape was like the head of a cat, with
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two ears sticking upward. Claws stopped whistling to laugh, and then both he
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and the cat looked at the wooden image in some surprise. Then he carved
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out the eyes and the nose, and rounded the lower part of the head
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so that it rested upon a neck. Puss hardly knew what to make of
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it now, and sat up stiffly, as if watching with some suspicion what
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would come next. Claws knew the head gave him an idea. He plied
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his knife carefully and with skill, forming slowly the body of the cat,
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which he made to sit upon its haunches, as the real cat did,
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with her tail wound around her two front legs. The work cost him much
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time, but the evening was long and he had nothing better to do.
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Finally, he gave a loud and delighted laugh at the result of his labors,
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and placed the wooden cat, now completed, upon the hearth opposite the
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real one. Puss thereupon glared at her image, raised her hair in anger,
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and uttered a defiant mew. The wooden cat paid no attention, and
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claws, much amused, laughed again. Then Blinky advanced toward the wooden image
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to eye it closely and smell of it intelligently. Eyes and nose told her
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the creature was wood in spite of its natural appearance. So Puss resumed her
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seat and her purring. But as she neatly washed her face with her padded
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paw, she cast more than one admiring glance at her clever master. Perhaps
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she felt the same satisfaction we feel when we look upon good photographs of ourselves.
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The cat's master was himself pleased with his handiwork, without knowing exactly why.
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Indeed, he had great cause to congratulate himself that night, and all
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the children throughout the world should have joined him rejoicing, for Claws had made
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his first toy. End of Chapter two, Chapter three, how the ryls
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colored the toys. A hush lay on the laughing valley, now snow covered
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it like a white spread, and pillows of downy flakes drifted before the dwelling
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where Claws sat feeding the blaze of the fire. The brook gurgled on beneath
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a heavy sheet of ice, and all living plants and insects nestled close to
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Mother Earth to keep warm. The face of the moon was hid by dark
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clouds, and the wind, delighting in the wintry sport, pushed and whirled
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the snowflakes in so many directions that they could get no chance to fall to
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the ground. Claws heard the wind whistling and shrieking in its play, and
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thanked the good nooks again for his comfortable shelter. Blinkie washed her face lazily
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and stared at the coals with a look of perfect content. The toy cat
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sat opposite the real one and gazed straight ahead as toy cats should. Suddenly,
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Claws heard a noise that sounded different from the voice of the wind.
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It was more like a wail of suffering and despair. He stood up and
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listened, but the wind, growing boisterous, shook the door and rattled the
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windows to distract his attention. He waited until the wind was tired, and
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then, still listening, he heard once more the shrill cry of distress.
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Quickly, he drew on his coat, pulled his cap over his eyes,
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and opened the door. The wind dashed in and scattered the embers over the
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hearth, at the same time, blowing Blinkie's fur so furiously that she crept
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under the table to escape. Then the door was closed and Claws was outside,
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peering anxiously into the darkness. The wind laughed and scolded and tried to
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push him over, but he stood firm. The helpless flake stumbled against his
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eyes and dimmed his sight, but he rubbed them away and looked again.
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Snow was everywhere, white and glittering. It covered the earth and filled the
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air. The cry was not repeated. Claws turned to go back into the
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house, but the long wind caught him unawares, and he stumbled and fell
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across a snow drift. His hand plunged into the snow drift, and touched
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something that was not snow. This he seized, and, pulling it gently
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toward him, found it to be a child. The next moment, he
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had lifted it in his arms and carried it into the house. The wind
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followed him through the door, but Claw shut it out Quickly. He laid
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the rescued child on the hearth, and brushing away the snow, he discovered
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it to be weakum the little boy who lived in a house beyond the valley.
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Claws wrapped a warm blanket around the little one and rubbed the frost from
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its limbs. Before long, the child opened his eyes, and, seeing
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where he was, smiled happily. Then Claws warmed milk and fed it to
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the boy slowly, while the cat looked on with sober curiosity. Finally,
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the little one curled up in his friend's arms and sighed and fell asleep,
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and Claws, filled with gladness that he had found the wanderer, held him
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closely while he slumbered. The wind, finding no more mischief to do,
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climbed the hill and swept on toward the north. This gave the wary snowflakes
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time to settle down to earth, and the valley became still again. The
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boy, having slept well in the arms of his friend, opened his eyes
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and sat up. Then, as a child will, he looked around the
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room and saw all that it contained. Your cat is a nice cat,
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Claws, he said, at last, let me hold it. But Puss
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objected and ran away. The other cat won't run, Claws continued the boy.
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Let me hold that one. Claws placed the toy in his arms,
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and the boy held it lovingly and kiss the tip of its wooden ear.
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How did you get lost in the storm, Weakam, asked Claws. I
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started to walk to my Auntie's house and lost my way, answered Weakam.
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Were you frightened? It was cold, said Weakam, and the snow got
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in my eyes so I could not see. Then I kept on till I
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fell on the snow without knowing where I was, and the wind blew the
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flakes over me and covered me up. Claws gently stroked his head, and
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the boy looked up at him and smiled. I'm all right now, said
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weakm Yes, replied Claws, happily. Now I will put you in my
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warm bed, and you must sleep until morning, when I will carry you
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back to your mother. May the cat sleep with me, asked the boy,
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Yes, if you wish it to, answered Claws. It's a nice
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cat, Weakham said, smiling, as Claws tucked the blankets around him,
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and presently the one fell asleep with a wooden toy in his arms. When
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morning came, the sun claimed the laughing valley and flooded it with its rays.
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So Claws prepared to take the lost child back to its mother. May
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I keep the cat, Claws asked weakm It's nicer than real cats. It
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doesn't run away or scratch or bite. May I keep it? Yes?
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Indeed, answered Claws, please that the toy he had made could give pleasure
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to the child. So he wrapped the boy and the wooden cat in a
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warm cloak, perching the bundle upon his own broad shoulders, and then he
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tramped through the snow and the drifts of the valley and across the plain beyond
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to the poor cottage where Wickham's mother lived. See Mamma, cried the boy
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as soon as they entered. I've got a cat. The good woman wept
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tears of joy over the rescue of her darling, and thanked Claws many times
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for his kind act. So he carried a warm and happy heart back to
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his home in the valley. That night, he said to Puss, I
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believe the children will love the wooden cats almost as well as the real ones,
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and they can't hurt them by pulling their tails in ears. I'll make
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another. So this was the beginning of his great work. The next cat
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was made better than the first. While Klaw sat whittling it out, the
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yellow rill came in to make him a visit, and so pleased was he
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with the man's skill, that he ran away and brought several of his fellows.
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There sat the red rill, the Black rill, the Green rill,
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the Blue rill, and the yellow rill in a circle on the floor,
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while Claws whittled and whistled, and the wooden cat grew into shape. If
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it could be made the same color as the real cat, no one would
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know the difference, said the yellow rill thoughtfully. The little ones maybe would
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not the difference, replied Claws, pleased with the idea. I will bring
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you some of the red that I color my roses and tulips with, cried
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the red rill, And then you can make the cat's lips and tongue red.
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I will bring some of the green that I color my grasses and leaves
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with, said the green rill, and then you can color the cat's eyes
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green. Ah, they will need a bit of yellow, also, remarked
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the yellow rill. I must fetch some of the yellow that I use to
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color my buttercups and goldenrods with. The real cat is black, said the
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black rill. I will bring some of the black that I used to color
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the eyes of my pansies with, and then you can paint your wooden cat
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black. I see you have a blue ribbon around Blinkie's neck, added the
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blue rill. I will get some of the color that I used to paint
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the bluebells and forget me nots with, and then you can carve a wooden
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ribbon on the toy cat's neck and painted blue. So the rills disappeared,
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and by the time claws had finished carving out the form of the cat,
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they were all back with the paints and brushes. They made Blinky sit upon
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the table that claws might paint the toy cat just the right color, and
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when the work was done, the rills declared it was exactly as good as
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a live cat, that is, to all appearances, added the red rill.
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Blinkie seemed a little offended by the attention bestowed upon the toy and that
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she might not seem to approve the imitation cat. She walked to the corner
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of the hearth and sat down with a dignified air. But Claws was delighted,
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and as soon as morning came he started out and tramped through the snow,
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across the valley and the plain, until he came to a village.
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There, in a poor hut, near the walls of the beautiful palace of
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the Lord of Lurd, a little girl lay upon a wretched cot, moaning
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with pain. Claws approached the child and kissed her and comforted her, And
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then he drew the toy cat from beneath his coat where he had hidden it,
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and placed it in her arms. Ah, how well he felt himself
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repaid for his labor and his long walk. When he saw the little one's
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eyes grow bright with pleasure. She hugged the kiddy tight to her breast as
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if it had been a precious gem, and would not let it go for
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a single moment. The fever was quieted, the pain grew less, and
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she fell into a sweet and refreshing sleep. Claws laughed and whistled and sang
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all the way home. Never had he been so happy as on that day.
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When he entered his house, he found Chiegra, the lioness, awaiting
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him. Since his babyhood, Chiegra had loved Claws, and while he dwelt
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in the forest, she had often come to visit him at Nesile's bower.
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After Claws had gone to live in the Laughing Valley, Chiegra became lonely and
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ill at ease. And now she had braved the snow drifts which all lions
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abhorre, to see him once more. Chiagro was getting old and her teeth
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were beginning to fall out, while the hairs that tipped her ears and tail
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had changed from tawny yellow to white. Claws found her lying on his hearth,
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and he put his arms round the neck of the lioness and hugged her
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lovingly. The cat had retired into a far corner she did not care to
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associate with. Chiagra. Claws told his friend about the cats he had made
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and how much pleasure they had given Wakham and the sick girl. Chiagra did
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not know much about children. Indeed, if she met a child, she
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could scarcely be trusted. Not to devour it. But she was interested in
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Claus's new labors, and said, these images seemed to me very attractive.
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Yet I cannot see why you should make cats, which are very unimportant animals.
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Suppose now that I am here, you make the image of a lioness,
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the queen of all beasts, Then indeed your children will be happy and
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safe. At the same time, Claws thought this was a good suggestion,
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so he got a piece of wood and sharpened his knife while Chiagra crouched upon
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the hearth at his feet. With much care, he carved the head in
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the likeness of the lioness, even to the two fierce teeth that curved over
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her lower lip and the deep frowning lines above her wide open eyes. When
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it was finished, he said, you have a terrible look, Chiagra.
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Then the image is like me, she answered, for I am indeed terrible
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to all who are not my friends. Claws now carved out the body,
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with Chiagra's long tail trailing behind it. The image of the crouching lioness was
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very lifelike. It pleases me, said Chiagra, yawning and stretching her body
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gracefully. Now I will watch while you paint. He brought the paints the
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Rills had given him from the cupboard and colored the image to resemble the real
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Chiagra. The lioness placed her big, padded paws upon the edge of the
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table and raised herself while she carefully examined the toy that was her likeness.
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You are indeed skillful, she said proudly. The children will like that better
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than cats, I'm sure, then, snarling at Blinkie, who arched her
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back in terror and whined fearfully, she walked away toward her forest home with
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stately strides. End of chapter three.