Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa Claus' Reading List

by A. A. Milne

  "I want a ship I can sail in the Summer, and a bigger sled," came from Laddie.

  And so the children began to talk about Christmas, and what they wanted Santa Claus to bring them.

  The weather was now cold and blowy and blustery, with a snowstorm nearly every day. But the six little Bunkers went out often to play, even if it was cold. They had lots of fun.

  Now and again the queer noise would sound, but, though each time the grown folks went to look for it, they could not find it. It seemed to sound all through the house, almost like the blowing of Mr. Thompson's horn, only not so loud.

  "Well, I declare!" exclaimed Grandpa Ford after one night's search, when nothing had been found, "this surely is a mystery!"

  "I could make a riddle about it, only I'd never know the answer," said Laddie. "And a riddle without an answer is no good."

  "That's very true!" said his grandfather, laughing.

  The days passed. Christmas came nearer and nearer. There was to be a tree at Great Hedge, and the children were also going to hang up their stockings. Grandpa Ford and Daddy Bunker went out into the woods and cut the tree, which was placed in the parlor, and the doors shut.

  "It wouldn't do for any of you to go in there from now on," said Mrs. Bunker. "You might surprise Santa Claus, and he doesn't like to be surprised."

  Finally came Christmas Eve. The children listened to the reading of Bible stories as they sat before the fire, and then went early to bed so "morning would come quicker."

  But, in spite of the fact that they wanted to go to sleep, it was some time before the older ones dropped off into Slumberland. Then, in the middle of the night, it seemed, there sounded throughout the house the sound of a horn being blown.

  "Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Rose, suddenly awakening and sitting up in bed. "Is that—is that the——"

  "It's the horn of Santa Claus!" cried Mrs. Bunker. "Wake up! It's Christmas morning!"

  And so it was.

  The Ghost At Last

  "Merry Christmas!" called the six little Bunkers.

  "Merry Christmas!" answered Grandpa and Grandma Ford and Daddy and Mother Bunker. "Merry Christmas!"

  "Merry Christmas!" called Dick as he tramped in from the barn, all covered with snow.

  And such a jolly Christmas as it was! If each of the six little Bunkers did not get exactly what he or she wanted, all got something just as good.

  There were toys, dolls, sleds, games and picture books. There was a magic lantern for Russ—something he had long wanted. There was a toy airship, that could be wound up and would fly, for Laddie. This he had wished for many times.

  And the grown folks were not forgotten. There were fur-lined slippers for both Grandpa and Grandma Ford, a gold pin for Mother Bunker, and a new shaving set for Daddy Bunker. Dick had some new neckties, a pipe, and a pair of rubber boots.

  "Just what I wanted!" he exclaimed.

  And I wish you could have seen the Christmas tree! It was a beautiful one, and covered with colored balls that sparkled red, green, blue, and yellow in the candle light. It was wonderful!

  "I wish I could try my new skates," said Russ. But this was a vain wish, as the ice on the pond, as well as the ground, was covered with snow.

  "But we can have lots more rides now, 'cause I got my big new sled, and you can all take turns on it," said Laddie. "And, oh, I've thought of a new riddle!" he cried. "Why would your dress be good to go fishing with, Mother?" he asked.

  "Why would my dress be good to go fishing with?" repeated Mrs. Bunker. "It wouldn't, Laddie. I wouldn't want to soil my nice dress by going fishing in it."

  "Anyhow, what's that got to do with your new sled?" asked Russ.

  "Nothing," answered Laddie. "Only I just happened to think of this riddle. Why would Mother's dress be good to go fishing with?"

  "Well, why would it?" asked Grandma Ford. "I want to hear the answer, because I have to go out into the kitchen and see about getting the dinner. Why would your mother's dress be good for fishing with, Laddie?"

  "'Cause it's got hooks on," he answered with a laugh. "I heard her ask you to hook it up this morning. Isn't that a good riddle?"

  "Very good," answered Grandma Ford. "Now see if you can think of one about roast chicken, as that's what we're going to have for dinner. Get good and hungry, all of you."

  "Better go out into the air and play a while," suggested Daddy Bunker. "That will give you good, healthy appetites."

  So the six little Bunkers went out to play. It was not very cold, but Grandpa Ford said it looked as though there would be more snow.

  "Then we can make more snow men!" shouted Russ. "And maybe I'll make an ice boat, too, when the snow melts so we can go on the pond."

  Out in the snow rushed the six little Bunkers, and they had fun playing near the big hedge which gave Grandpa Ford's place its name.

  When the children were romping about, sliding down a little hill they made, and tumbling about in the snow, along came Mr. Thompson.

  "Merry Christmas!" he called to Russ, Rose and the others.

  "Merry Christmas!" they answered.

  Mun Bun and Margy, who had been making a little snow man all by themselves, stopped their play and walked toward the house.

  "Where are you going?" asked Russ.

  "I'm going to ask Grandma for a cookie," explained Mun Bun. "I'm hungry."

  "So'm I," added Margy.

  "Don't eat before dinner," advised Rose. "Save your 'hungry' for the roast chicken."

  And Grandma Ford told the little ones the same thing, but they insisted that they wanted a cookie each, so she gave them one apiece, but they were rather small.

  "Because," said Grandma, "I want you to eat my nice, brown, roast chicken."

  And Mun Bun and Margy did. For, when dinner time came, they had as good appetites as any of the others. Every one seemed to be hungry, and, for a while, the sound of the clatter of the knives, forks and plates was louder than the talk.

  After dinner they sat about the open fire on the big hearth in the living-room, and cracked nuts. Or, rather, Grandpa Ford cracked them and the children ate them.

  "Wouldn't it be funny," began Russ, "if we should——"

  And, just then, there suddenly sounded throughout the house that strange, groaning sound.

  "O-u-g-h-m!"

  It seemed louder than ever, and, for a moment, every one was startled. Mun Bun and Margy ran to their mother.

  "Come on!" called Grandpa Ford to Daddy Bunker. "We must find out what that noise is. It has been going on long enough, andnow to have it come when we are all so happy at Christmas time is too much! We must find where it is."

  "Can't we help hunt?" asked Russ.

  "Yes, let us, Mother, won't you?" added Rose.

  "But what is it?" asked Laddie. "What makes the funny groaning noise?"

  "Maybe Mr. Thompson is blowing his horn," said Vi.

  The groaning noise kept up longer this time than ever before. Every few minutes it would echo through the house. Sometimes it sounded as though upstairs, and again down in the cellar.

  "We'll try the attic," said Grandpa Ford.

  He and Daddy Bunker went up there. Grandma Ford and Mother Bunker stayed in the sitting-room with Mun Bun and Margy.

  "Come on!" called Russ to Rose. "Let's go and look."

  Rose followed her brother.

  "Want to come?" she asked Violet and Laddie.

  "Yep," the twins said exactly together, just as twins should, I suppose.

  Russ, Rose, Laddie and Vi walked slowly through the different downstairs rooms. In each one they listened. In some they could hear the noise more plainly than in others. Finally they came to the kitchen.

  "It sounds plainer here," said Russ.

  And, just then, the groan sounded so near at hand that Rose jumped and caught Russ by the arm.

  "O-u-g-h-m!"

  Again the groan sounded.

  "It's over in there!" cried Laddie, pointing to a large storeroom opening out of the kitch
en. The door of this room was open, and the noise, indeed, did seem to come from there.

  "Let's go in!" suggested Russ, and he started toward it.

  "Maybe you'd better call Grandpa and Daddy, and let them look," said Vi.

  Just then Mother Bunker and Grandma Ford, followed by the two smallest children, came into the kitchen.

  "Oh, we've found the ghost!" cried Rose to her mother. "It's in the storeroom! Listen!"

  The two women listened. The groan sounded very plainly, and did seem to come from the room off the kitchen.

  Grandma Ford walked in. All was quiet for a moment, and then the noise sounded again.

  "I've found it!" cried Grandma Ford. "I've found the ghost at last!"

  "What is it?" exclaimed Mother Bunker.

  "I don't know exactly what makes it," said Grandma Ford; "but the noise comes out of this rain-water pipe under the window of the storeroom. We'll call Daddy Bunker and Grandpa Ford and have them look. But come in and listen, all of you."

  With their mother the six little Bunkers went into the storeroom. Just as they entered the groan sounded loudly, and, as Grandma Ford said, it came from a rain-water pipe that ran slantingly under the window.

  "That's the ghost!" cried Mother Bunker. "No wonder we couldn't find it. We never looked here before."

  And when Daddy Bunker and Grandpa Ford came down out of the attic, where they had not been able to find the "ghost," though they heard the sound of it faintly there, they were told what the six little Bunkers had discovered with the help of Grandma Ford.

  "Yes, the noise comes from the rain-water pipe," said Grandpa Ford, when he had looked and listened carefully.

  "What makes it?" asked Daddy Bunker.

  "Well, the pipe is broken, and partly filled with water from the rain or melted snow. There are also some dried leaves in the pipe. One end has sunk down and the wind blows across that and makes a hollow, groaning sound, just as you can make by blowing across the open mouth of a big, empty bottle. That was the ghost—the wind blowing across the broken water pipe."

  "Yes, that is what made it," said Daddy Bunker, when he had taken a look and had listened again. "The sound comes loudest when the wind blows."

  "The noise sounded, sometimes, when the wind didn't blow," said Grandpa Ford, as he took the pipe apart, "because of the dried leaves that were in it. The leaves became water-soaked, and were in a lump. Then, when this lump slid down it made a sort of choking sound like a pump that runs out of water. The wind blowing across the pipe, and the wet leaves sinking down, made the queer noises. I'm glad we've found out about them."

  "But what made it blow all through the house?" asked Mother Bunker.

  "Because there are rain-water pipes, or drain pipes, from the gutters on all sides of the house," explained her husband. "The pipes are connected, and the sound, starting in the broken pipe under the window in the storeroom, vibrated all around the house from the attic to the cellar. That ends the ghost, children."

  And so it did, for when that pipe and some others were mended, and fastened together after being cleaned out, no more groans were heard. And so the "ghost" at Great Hedge was found to be nothing more than all ghosts are—something natural and simple.

  "Now I can make a riddle about it," said Laddie. "I can ask why is a ghost like an umbrella?"

  "Why is it?" asked Violet.

  "'Cause it hid in a rain-water pipe. 'Course that isn't a very good riddle," admitted Laddie. "Maybe I'll think of a better one after a while."

  "Well, it's good enough this time," laughed Grandpa Ford. "Now the ghost is 'laid,' as they call it, we'll have lots of fun at Great Hedge."

  And so the children did. The Christmas holidays passed and New Year's came. The snow melted, and there was a chance for more skating and for rides in the ice boat. Russ kept his word and made one, but it upset more times than it sailed.

  "I wonder what we'll do next Winter," said Rose, as she and Russ were sliding downhill one day.

  "Summer comes before next Winter," he said. "Maybe we'll go visiting again."

  And where the children went and what they did you may learn by reading the next volume of this series, to be called: "Six Little Bunkers at Uncle Fred's." He had a ranch out West and——

  But there, I'll let you read the book for yourselves.

  "Oh, but we're having lots of fun here," said Laddie that night, as he sat trying to think of a new riddle. "Lots of fun."

  "And the best fun of all was finding the ghost that wasn't a ghost," said Russ.

  And I think so myself. So, having been on many adventures with the six little Bunkers, we will leave them for a while.

  THE END

  The Story of a Nodding Donkey

  Laura Lee Hope

  The Santa Claus Shop

  The Nodding Donkey dated his birth from the day he received the beautiful coat of varnish in the workshop of Santa Claus at the North Pole. Before that he was just some pieces of wood, glued together. His head was not glued on, however, but was fastened in such a manner that with the least motion the Donkey could nod it up and down, and also sidewise.

  It is not every wooden donkey who is able to nod his head in as many ways as could the Donkey about whom I am going to tell you. This Nodding Donkey was an especially fine toy, and, as has been said, his first birthday was that on which he received such a bright, shiny coat of varnish.

  "Here, Santa Claus, look at this, if you please!" called one of the jolly workmen in the shop of St. Nicholas. "Is this toy finished, now?" and he held up the Nodding Donkey.

  Santa Claus, who was watching another man put some blue eyes in a golden-haired doll, came over to the bench where sat the man who had made the Nodding Donkey out of some bits of wood, glue, and real hair for his mane and tail.

  "Hum! Yes! So you have finished the Nodding Donkey, have you?" asked Santa Claus, as he stroked his long, white beard.

  "I'll call him finished if you say he is all right," answered the man, smiling as he put the least tiny dab more of varnish on the Donkey's back. "Shall I set him on the shelf to dry, so you may soon take him down to Earth for some lucky boy or girl?"

  "Yes, he is finished. Set him on the shelf with the other toys," answered dear old St. Nicholas, and then, having given a last look at the Donkey, the workman placed him on a shelf, next to a wonderful Plush Bear, of whom I shall tell you more in another book.

  "Well, I'm glad he's finished," said Santa Claus' worker, as he took up his tools to start making a Striped Tiger, with a red tongue. "That Nodding Donkey took me quite a while to finish. I hope nothing happens to him until his coat of varnish is hard and dry. My, but he certainly shines!"

  And the Nodding Donkey did shine most wonderfully! Not far away, on the same shelf on which he stood, was a doll's bureau with a looking glass on top. In this looking glass the Nodding Donkey caught sight of himself.

  "Not so bad!" he thought. "In fact, I'm quite stylish. I'm almost as gay as some of the clowns." And his head bobbed slowly up and down, for it was fastened so that the least jar or jiggle would move it.

  "I must be very careful," said the Nodding Donkey to himself. "I must not move about too much nor let any of the other toys rub against me until I am quite dry. If they did they would blur or scratch my shiny varnish coat, and that would be too bad. But after I am dry I'll have some fun. Just wait until to-night! Then there will be some great times in this workshop of Santa Claus!"

  The reason the Nodding Donkey said this, was because at night, when Santa Claus and his merry helpers had gone, the toys were allowed to do as they pleased. They could make believe come to life, and move about, having all sorts of adventures.

  But, presto! the moment daylight came, or any one looked at them, the toys became as straight and stiff and motionless as any toys that are in your playroom. For all you know some of your toys may move about and pretend to come to life when you are asleep. But it is of no use for you to stay awake, watching to see if they will, for as long as any eyes
are peeping, or ears are listening, the toys will never do anything of themselves.

  The Nodding Donkey knew that when Santa Claus and the workers were gone he and the other toys could do as they pleased, and he could hardly wait for that time to come.

  "But while I am waiting I will stay here on the shelf and get hard and dry," said the Nodding Donkey to himself.

  Once more he looked in the glass on the doll's bureau, and he was well pleased with himself, was the Nodding Donkey.

  * * *

  Such a busy place was the workshop of Santa Claus at the North Pole, where the Nodding Donkey was drying in his coat of varnish!

  The place was like a great big greenhouse, all made of glass, only the glass was sheets of crystal-clear ice. Santa Claus needed plenty of light in his workshop, for in the dark it is not easy to put red cheeks and blue eyes on dolls, or paint toy soldiers and wind up the springs of the toys that move.

  The workshop of Santa Claus, then, was like a big greenhouse, only no flowers grew in it because it is very cold at the North Pole. All about was snow and ice, but Santa Claus did not mind the cold, nor did his workmen, for they were dressed in fur, like the polar bears and the seals.

  On each side of the big shop, with its icy glass roof, were work benches. At these benches sat the funny little men who made the toys.

  Some were stuffing sawdust into dolls, others were putting the lids on the boxes where the Jacks lived, and still others were trying the Jumping Jacks to see that they jerked their legs and arms properly.

  Up and down, between the rows of benches, walked Santa Claus himself. Now and then some workman would call:

  "Please look here, Santa Claus! Shall I make this Tin Soldier with a sword or a gun?"

  And St. Nicholas would answer:

  "That Soldier needs a sword. He is going to be a Captain."

  Then another little man would call, from the other side of the shop:

  "Here is a Calico Clown who doesn't squeak when I press on his stomach. Something must be wrong with him, Santa Claus."