A Kidnapped Santa Claus

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!