A Kidnapped Santa Claus | Page 4

castle in the Laughing Valley, preparing the
gifts he was to distribute on Christmas Eve; and at first they resolved to
try to tempt him into their caves, that they might lead him on to the
terrible pitfalls that ended in destruction.
So the very next day, while Santa Claus was busily at work, surrounded
by his little band of assistants, the Daemon of Selfishness came to him
and said:
"These toys are wonderfully bright and pretty. Why do you not keep
them for yourself? It's a pity to give them to those noisy boys and
fretful girls, who break and destroy them so quickly."
"Nonsense!" cried the old graybeard, his bright eyes twinkling merrily
as he turned toward the tempting Daemon. "The boys and girls are
never so noisy and fretful after receiving my presents, and if I can make
them happy for one day in the year I am quite content."
So the Daemon went back to the others, who awaited him in their caves,
and said:
"I have failed, for Santa Claus is not at all selfish."
The following day the Daemon of Envy visited Santa Claus. Said he:
"The toy shops are full of playthings quite as pretty as those you are
making. What a shame it is that they should interfere with your
business! They make toys by machinery much quicker than you can
make them by hand; and they sell them for money, while you get
nothing at all for your work."
But Santa Claus refused to be envious of the toy shops.
"I can supply the little ones but once a year--on Christmas Eve," he
answered; "for the children are many, and I am but one. And as my
work is one of love and kindness I would be ashamed to receive money
for my little gifts. But throughout all the year the children must be
amused in some way, and so the toy shops are able to bring much
happiness to my little friends. I like the toy shops, and am glad to see

them prosper."
In spite of the second rebuff, the Daemon of Hatred thought he would
try to influence Santa Claus. So the next day he entered the busy
workshop and said:
"Good morning, Santa! I have bad news for you."
"Then run away, like a good fellow," answered Santa Claus. "Bad news
is something that should be kept secret and never told."
"You cannot escape this, however," declared the Daemon; "for in the
world are a good many who do not believe in Santa Claus, and these
you are bound to hate bitterly, since they have so wronged you."
"Stuff and rubbish!" cried Santa.
"And there are others who resent your making children happy and who
sneer at you and call you a foolish old rattlepate! You are quite right to
hate such base slanderers, and you ought to be revenged upon them for
their evil words."
"But I don't hate 'em!" exclaimed Santa Claus positively. "Such people
do me no real harm, but merely render themselves and their children
unhappy. Poor things! I'd much rather help them any day than injure
them."
Indeed, the Daemons could not tempt old Santa Claus in any way. On
the contrary, he was shrewd enough to see that their object in visiting
him was to make mischief and trouble, and his cheery laughter
disconcerted the evil ones and showed to them the folly of such an
undertaking. So they abandoned honeyed words and determined to use
force.
It was well known that no harm can come to Santa Claus while he is in
the Laughing Valley, for the fairies, and ryls, and knooks all protect
him. But on Christmas Eve he drives his reindeer out into the big world,
carrying a sleighload of toys and pretty gifts to the children; and this
was the time and the occasion when his enemies had the best chance to
injure him. So the Daemons laid their plans and awaited the arrival of
Christmas Eve.
The moon shone big and white in the sky, and the snow lay crisp and
sparkling on the ground as Santa Claus cracked his whip and sped away
out of the Valley into the great world beyond. The roomy sleigh was
packed full with huge sacks of toys, and as the reindeer dashed onward
our jolly old Santa laughed and whistled and sang for very joy. For in

all his merry life this was the one day in the year when he was
happiest--the day he lovingly bestowed the treasures of his workshop
upon the little children.
It would be a busy night for him, he well knew. As he whistled and
shouted and cracked his whip again, he reviewed in mind all the towns
and cities and farmhouses where he was