2. How Claus Made the First Toy

The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus

by L. Frank Baum

Truly our Claus had wisdom, for his good fortune but strengthened
his resolve to befriend the little ones of his own race. He knew his
plan was approved by the immortals, else they would not have favored
him so greatly.

So he began at once to make acquaintance with mankind. He
walked through the Valley to the plain beyond, and crossed the plain
in many directions to reach the abodes of men. These stood singly or
in groups of dwellings called villages, and in nearly all the houses,
whether big or little, Claus found children.

The youngsters soon came to know his merry, laughing face and
the kind glance of his bright eyes; and the parents, while they
regarded the young man with some scorn for loving children more than
their elders, were content that the girls and boys had found a
playfellow who seemed willing to amuse them.

So the children romped and played games with Claus, and the boys
rode upon his shoulders, and the girls nestled in his strong arms,
and the babies clung fondly to his knees. Wherever the young man
chanced to be, the sound of childish laughter followed him; and to
understand this better you must know that children were much
neglected in those days and received little attention from their
parents, so that it became to them a marvel that so goodly a man as
Claus devoted his time to making them happy. And those who knew him
were, you may be sure, very happy indeed. The sad faces of the poor
and abused grew bright for once; the cripple smiled despite his
misfortune; the ailing ones hushed their moans and the grieved ones
their cries when their merry friend came nigh to comfort them.

Only at the beautiful palace of the Lord of Lerd and at the
frowning castle of the Baron Braun was Claus refused admittance.
There were children at both places; but the servants at the palace
shut the door in the young stranger's face, and the fierce Baron
threatened to hang him from an iron hook on the castle walls.
Whereupon Claus sighed and went back to the poorer dwellings where he
was welcome.

After a time the winter drew near.

The flowers lived out their lives and faded and disappeared; the
beetles burrowed far into the warm earth; the butterflies deserted
the meadows; and the voice of the brook grew hoarse, as if it had
taken cold.

One day snowflakes filled all the air in the Laughing Valley,
dancing boisterously toward the earth and clothing in pure white
raiment the roof of Claus's dwelling.

At night Jack Frost rapped at the door.

"Come in!" cried Claus.

"Come out!" answered Jack, "for you have a fire inside."

So Claus came out. He had known Jack Frost in the Forest, and
liked the jolly rogue, even while he mistrusted him.

"There will be rare sport for me to-night, Claus!" shouted the
sprite. "Isn't this glorious weather? I shall nip scores of noses
and ears and toes before daybreak."

"If you love me, Jack, spare the children," begged Claus.

"And why?" asked the other, in surprise.

"They are tender and helpless," answered Claus.

"But I love to nip the tender ones!" declared Jack. "The older
ones are tough, and tire my fingers."

"The young ones are weak, and can not fight you," said Claus.

"True," agreed Jack, thoughtfully. "Well, I will not pinch a
child this night--if I can resist the temptation," he promised.
"Good night, Claus!"

"Good night."

The young man went in and closed the door, and Jack Frost ran on
to the nearest village.

Claus threw a log on the fire, which burned up brightly. Beside
the hearth sat Blinkie, a big cat give him by Peter the Knook. Her
fur was soft and glossy, and she purred never-ending songs of
contentment.

"I shall not see the children again soon," said Claus to the
cat, who kindly paused in her song to listen. "The winter is upon
us, the snow will be deep for many days, and I shall be unable to
play with my little friends."

The cat raised a paw and stroked her nose thoughtfully, but made
no reply. So long as the fire burned and Claus sat in his easy chair
by the hearth she did not mind the weather.

So passed many days and many long evenings. The cupboard was
always full, but Claus became weary with having nothing to do more
than to feed the fire from the big wood-pile the Knooks had brought
him.

One evening he picked up a stick of wood and began to cut it
with his sharp knife. He had no thought, at first, except to occupy
his time, and he whistled and sang to the cat as he carved away
portions of the stick. Puss sat up on her haunches and watched him,
listening at the same time to her master's merry whistle, which she
loved to hear even more than her own purring songs.

Claus glanced at puss and then at the stick he was whittling,
until presently the wood began to have a shape, and the shape was
like the head of a cat, with two ears sticking upward.

Claus stopped whistling to laugh, and then both he and the cat
looked at the wooden image in some surprise. Then he carved out the
eyes and the nose, and rounded the lower part of the head so that it
rested upon a neck.

Puss hardly knew what to make of it now, and sat up stiffly, as
if watching with some suspicion what would come next.

Claus knew. The head gave him an idea. He plied his knife
carefully and with skill, forming slowly the body of the cat, which
he made to sit upon its haunches as the real cat did, with her tail
wound around her two front legs.

The work cost him much time, but the evening was long and he had
nothing better to do. Finally he gave a loud and delighted laugh at
the result of his labors and placed the wooden cat, now completed,
upon the hearth opposite the real one.

Puss thereupon glared at her image, raised her hair in anger,
and uttered a defiant mew. The wooden cat paid no attention, and
Claus, much amused, laughed again.

Then Blinkie advanced toward the wooden image to eye it closely
and smell of it intelligently: Eyes and nose told her the creature
was wood, in spite of its natural appearance; so puss resumed her
seat and her purring, but as she neatly washed her face with her
padded paw she cast more than one admiring glance at her clever
master. Perhaps she felt the same satisfaction we feel when we look
upon good photographs of ourselves.

The cat's master was himself pleased with his handiwork, without
knowing exactly why. Indeed, he had great cause to congratulate
himself that night, and all the children throughout the world should
have joined him rejoicing. For Claus had made his first toy.