The Adventures of Nicholas

by Helen Siiteri

  “You’ll see soon enough. What’s this I hear about the Squire?” he asked Otto, to change the subject.

  “Ah,” said Otto, puffing his long pipe, and settling down for a piece of gossip. “They say things haven’t gone so well with the Squire these past years. Now he has to sell most of his land and household goods to pay the bills and move to a village to the south, where the winter won’t be so hard on his old bones. Will you be going up to the sale tomorrow, Nicholas?”

  “Now what would I be buying from the Squire? I don’t want any more land, and I myself can make as fine furniture as any he has in his house.”

  “He has some good animals up there—two fine horses and that set of reindeer.”

  Nicholas, finally interested, put down his hammer. “Gunnar’s too old to be much help to me now. I think I might go up and take a look around after all.”

  So the next morning Nicholas wandered down to the Squire’s stables and was surrounded by a group of men. They thought he was interested in buying a horse, and they were willing to give him plenty of free advice.

  Nicholas, however, walked past the stables where the horses were, and went directly to the larger stalls.

  “He’s after Donder and Blitzen,” the men whispered. “He’s always admired them—they go so fast.”

  Two reindeer, excited by the noises of the crowd, poked their frightened heads through the top part of the door.

  “Well,” said Nicholas softly, “you don’t look much like thunder and lightening now. Not afraid of me, are you?” The deer whimpered and thrust their warm black noses into Nicholas’ hands. “I guess we’ll get along all right. Now to find your master and see about this sale.”

  The Squire, a bent old man with a worried look on his face, seemed dazed by the mob of people buying up his house and goods. “Well, you can’t have Donder and Blitzen alone,” he said. “That set of reindeer goes together or not at all. Why, Donder would go raving mad if you tried to separate her from the rest of her family.”

  “Family!” exclaimed Nicholas. “Why, I need only two reindeer. How many more are there?”

  Suddenly there was a loud crash of breaking wood, a mad rush of people away from one of the stalls, and a brown streak went running about the farmyard chasing one unfortunate man who couldn’t run as fast as the others.

  “That’s Vixen,” shouted the Squire. “Catch him quickly. He’s a young imp…he may hurt somebody!”

  Everybody ran about in a frenzy, but Vixen was nimble and even paused to look over his shoulder and shake his head as if to say, “Come on, catch me!” Then he was off, leaping over carts as he skillfully dodged his pursuers. He knocked a man’s hat off with his young horns that were just beginning to grow, and finally cleared a high fence, only to stop and turn, and look calmly back at the breathless men on the other side.

  Nicholas had not joined in the chase. He was holding his sides, shaking all over with laughter. “I’ll take the lot of them,” he cried out. “I don’t know what the others are like, but I must have that Vixen! I haven’t laughed so much in years.”

  So it was that Nicholas acquired not two but eight reindeer: Donder and Blitzen, the mamma and papa, and their six children, Dasher and Dancer, Comet and Cupid, and Prancer and Vixen.

  THE NAUGHTY REINDEER

  N order to shelter his eight reindeer, Nicholas had to build an extra shed that was almost as large as the cottage itself. All went well as long as the animals stayed where they belonged, but Vixen delighted in butting his head against the door of his stall, so that Nicholas had to rebuild it three times. He would hear a loud crash and look up from his work with a sigh. “I suppose that’s Vixen again. Now if he were only as quiet and gentle as his brothers…but I don’t suppose I’d like him as well.”

  Vixen wanted to be as close to Nicholas as possible, and would break down one door after another in order to caper up to the cottage and leap around until his friend noticed him.

  Nicholas tried to be severe. “Now this time you’ll be punished! I have too much work to do to

  bother chasing you around.”

  But the little reindeer only treated it as a game, and would hide behind a tree, poking his head around the trunk and almost laughing at Nicholas as he tried to catch him.

  Nicholas worked night and day to finish the toys. He scrubbed and curried the reindeer until their hides were sleek and shining. Finally the great night arrived. Nicholas made many trips back and forth to the woodshed, his arms loaded with bright little dolls, houses, boats, and animals. He opened the stall where his reindeer were waiting and led them out into the yard.

  “Donder and Blitzen in the lead,” he said, “Then Dasher and Dancer because they’re next strongest, and then Comet and Cupid, and then Prancer and…why where’s Vixen?”

  Nicholas dashed into the stable calling, “Vixen! Vixen, you young imp, where are you? If I catch you I’ll…”

  Suddenly there was a noise on the cottage roof. Nicholas looked up and saw Vixen playfully butting the chimney with his horns.

  “You bad reindeer! How did you get up there?” Nicholas shouted, really angry now, for he would have no trifling with his Christmas visits to the children. “And how are you going to get down, hey? I’ll tell you: you won’t get down. I’m through with you. I’ll leave Prancer at home and take only six reindeer.”

  Vixen was really sorry now, and he was really frightened. So frightened that he couldn’t remember clearly how he had reached the roof. He looked down at Nicholas, who turned away and began to

  harness the other reindeer.

  Vixen became annoyed. How dare they leave without him! He stamped an angry little hoof on the hard crust of the snow. Crack went the crust, and Vixen felt himself sliding down the slope—swiftly, swiftly, and right over the edge, only to land in a soft snowbank right at Nicholas’ feet. Nicholas began to laugh, and it was a meek and ashamed little reindeer who took his place quietly beside Prancer.

  Nicholas then opened the woodshed door and revealed a most beautiful sight. There stood a bright, shining red sleigh, the runner curving up in front to form a swan’s neck, the back roomy enough to hold toys for a whole village full of children.

  It had taken him most of the long winter to get everything ready, but as he climbed up on the high seat, beautifully padded with soft cushions, he knew it was worth his hard work. He took out a long shiny black whip, snapped it in the air, and they were off!

  The villagers were awakened from their sleep by the merry jingling of silver bells, the stamp of reindeer hoofs on the packed snow, and the snap of a whip in the quiet air. They peeked out from behind their curtains and saw a splendid sight.

  They saw in the moonlight a new red sleigh drawn by eight prancing reindeer, traveling like lightning through the deserted streets. Traveling so fast that they wouldn’t have believed they had seen it if they had not recognized the familiar figure high up on the seat.

  As they returned to their warm beds, they murmured, “That’s Nicholas on his way to the children. God bless him!”

  ‘If gold’s all you care for, here’s more:

  NICHOLAS FINDS A WAY

  NE year, when Nicholas was about sixty years old and his beard had grown as fluffy and white as new-fallen snow, a strange family came to live in the village. It wasn’t much of a family to be sure—just a little old man, as brown and as hard as a nut, and one little thin girl who shrank away from the crowd of villagers who gathered, as they always gathered, when something new was happening.

  “His name is Karl Dinsler,” one woman whispered. “They say he’s very rich, and so he must be, to have money enough to buy the big house on the hill.”

  “He may be rich,” sniffed another, “but he certainly doesn’t look it. Did you see how shabbily he was dressed? And that poor little thing he had with him looks as if a good meal wouldn’t do her any harm. Who is she anyw
ay?”

  “That’s his granddaughter. The child’s parents died a short time ago, and they say this old man

  bought the house up here to be alone.”

  “He can stay alone then,” remarked another. “Did you see how he scowled at us when all we wanted to do was welcome them to the village?”

  “Yes, but somehow I pity that little girl. Who will take care of her up in that big barn of a place?”

  It was lucky the villagers had a chance to get a good look at the newcomers that first day, because after that, little was seen of them. The girl seemed to have vanished completely, and the old man came down from the hill only to buy small amounts of food—some fish and some flour.

  It was the schoolmaster who told the villagers of the strange thing that had happened. “He’s nailed up all the gates except the front one, and that he keeps locked with a heavy bolt. Besides that, he’s put boards on all the windows and even on the front door. When I tried to ask if he planned to send the child to school, he wouldn’t let me past the front gate.”

  “Well, at least the little girl will make some friends at the schoolhouse,” one mother remarked.

  “I’m afraid not,” the schoolmaster replied. “When I told him that the children usually brought in vegetables or a few coins to pay for their schooling, he told me to go about my business—that he’d take care of his grandchild’s education.”

  “Why, the man must be crazy!” the villagers said, astounded. “He must be afraid of something.”

  “Afraid, nothing,” one man exclaimed, “unless he’s afraid someone will take his gold away from him.”

  “Well, this news will interest Nicholas,” said another. “One more child in the village, and a lonely

  one too.”

  “Nicholas knows all about her,” they heard a deep voice say, and they all turned to see that it was the woodcarver himself. “Her name is Kati. I once knew a little girl named Kati,” he went on, a sad look in his usually merry blue eyes. “And that is why I’d like to do something for this poor child.”

  “Why, how did you find out her name, Nicholas?”

  “She was wandering around in the yard, and I stopped to talk to her. She says she’s not allowed to go outside the fence and that she can play in the yard only an hour each day. She also told me her grandfather doesn’t want her to play with the village children, for fear she’ll talk about the gold he has.”

  The honest villagers were indignant. “As if we’d touch his old money,” they said angrily.

  “I don’t know what we can do about it,” said Nicholas. “We can’t force our way into the house, and after all, she’s his own grandchild. We’ll have to wait and see what happens. I can’t believe anyone could stay as mean as that with a little child.”

  The others shook their heads. “He’s mean all right. Why he probably won’t even let her put out her stocking on Christmas Eve.”

  Nicholas laughed. “No, he wouldn’t open his front door even to get something free.”

  However, Nicholas carefully made a few little toys for Kati and packed them away with his other gifts. Just about a week before Christmas, when he was looking up at the dark, boarded-up house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kati, a wonderful idea struck him. His eyes brightened and he chuckled to himself. “I’ll try it, by golly, I’ll try it! I may get stuck, but it’s worth the try.”

  DOWN THE CHIMNEY

  CHRISTMAS Eve that year was a dark, moonless night. The wind whistled through the deserted streets, and a cold sleet stung Nicholas’ face and covered his sleigh with a

  shining coat of ice.

  “Come on now, my good lads,” he encouraged his reindeer. “The trip’s almost over; we’ve only the house on the hill now.” He tied the deer to the front gate and stopped to listen. Not a sound could be heard but a few shutters banging in the wind and the sighing of the big pines.

  Nicholas crept over to the side of the house where there was a porch with a railing. There it was easy to reach the roof. Stout as he was, he leaped nimbly to the top of the porch, and in a few moments was crouched on the sloping roof of the house.

  Now came the dangerous part. The roof was slippery where the sleet and rain had fallen. Nicholas

  had to take out his little knife and hack away the ice to get a foothold. Once he paused when he thought he heard footsteps in the darkness below, but it was only Donder stamping impatiently in the bitter cold.

  Finally a big shape loomed up above him: it was the chimney. Nicholas peered down into the inky blackness. “Just as I thought,” he murmured. “The old miser lets his fire go out at night.”

  He climbed over the edge, feeling carefully with his feet; and bracing his back firmly against the walls, he slowly made his way down the sooty chimney until he felt solid ground beneath his feet. When his eyes became used to the darkness, he found the stub of a candle and lit it. Then he set to work swiftly.

  From his pocket he took a gay red stocking which he filled to the top with little toys and nuts and raisins; he thought the hungry little girl might like a few sweets. Then he hung the fat stocking from the mantel of the fireplace, weighting it down with a heavy candlestick. He was just leaning over to blow the candle out when Karl Dinsler flung open the door and burst into the room.

  “Sneaking into my house, eh? After my gold, I suppose. I’ll show you how I treat thieves, I’ll show you!” The old man picked up a heavy pair of fire tongs and made a furious lunge at Nicholas, who quickly stepped aside so that the table was between him and the mad old miser.

  “Don’t be such a fool, man,” Nicholas said quickly, realizing the danger he was in. “I haven’t come here after your gold.”

  “Then what brings you here? Why do you break into an honest man’s house in the dead of night if it isn’t to steal the gold I’m supposed to have?”

  “Look behind you at that stocking there. The other children in the village leave theirs outside their doors, but Kati is too frightened to ask you for anything. I wanted her to find gifts on Christmas morning, the same as the other children do.”

  The old man looked at the stocking, bursting with toys and goodies, and slowly lowered the fire tongs.

  “You give things away?” he asked, unable to believe what he had heard.

  “Yes,” answered Nicholas, “I’ll even give you a Christmas gift. If gold’s all you care for, here’s more…and more…and more to add to your hoard.” He reached into his deep pockets and poured a stream of bright gold on the table under Karl’s astonished eyes.

  “That’s just to show you how unimportant I think money is compared to the love of a little child. Do you ever see Kati’s eyes twinkle at you, or do you only see the bright glitter of this stuff? Do you ever feel the warmth of her little hand tucked into yours, or are you satisfied with the cold touch of gold? I feel sorry for you, old man, but don’t you touch that stocking or I’ll make you feel sorry for yourself as well. And now,” he finished indignantly, “I don’t intend to climb back up that chimney. Kindly show me the way to the door.” He marched out of the room, covered with soot from head to toe, and old Karl hurried ahead of him to let him out into the black, stormy night.

  During the following week the village buzzed with excitement. Something had stirred up the old miser on the hill! He had ripped off the boards from the doors and windows, and had sent for the schoolmaster. Within a few days Kati and her grandfather walked down the road to the school, the little girl’s face beaming up at the old man and her warm little hand tucked in his.

  It was many, many months before the villagers discovered it was all because Nicholas had climbed down a chimney to fill a little girl’s stocking!

  “And these are our Christmas Trees.”

  THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE

  ERY close to Nicholas’ cottage was a thick grove of pine trees—tall, beautiful, dark-green trees that lifted their br
anches high up into the sky and made a perfect shelter on the ground beneath. Scattered in among the larger trees were little firs, which stayed green all through the cold winter.

  The children loved to play in this grove because, no matter how stormy the weather, this spot was always warm and sheltered. And in the summertime it was a delightful place, with the sharp scent of the pine trees and the soft murmuring of their branches in the breeze.

  Nicholas loved this little grove too because in order to get there the children had to pass his cottage, and they would often dash in to talk for a while with their old friend.

  One wintry day toward the end of the year, Nicholas looked out of his cottage window and saw

  a group of children running for dear life away from the grove. At first he thought it was some sort of game, but then he saw that something must have frightened them. A few of the smaller ones were crying, and they didn’t stop running until they had reached the cottage.

  “Why, now, what’s all this?” Nicholas asked, picking up the littlest fellow and trying to comfort him. “All you big boys look so frightened! Come inside and tell me all about it.”

  “We were playing robbers in the pine grove and it was my turn to hide, so I could jump out at the others,” Arno, the oldest began. Nicholas nodded his head.

  “Well,” the boy went on, “I saw the trees move a little and thought it was the others, so I shouted, ‘Robbers!’ and jumped out and…and…”

  “And it wasn’t us at all,” shrieked little Elsa, sobbing. “It was somebody else hiding in the woods.”

  Elsa’s older sister explained. “We heard Arno shout ‘Robbers!’ so we ran out too, and saw a man with long black hair and a terrible mustache with gold rings in his ears. He looked at us and said something we couldn’t understand, so we turned around and started to run.”