2.  How Claus Made the First Toy

  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.