“That took patience as well as skill,” said Herr Engstrand. And perhaps that quiet comment was the one that pleased Arne most of all.
The straw goats were admired, too, and the other ornaments the girls had made. Then it was time for the gifts.
There was a beautiful hand-knit blue and red sweater for Arne, with mittens to match and fine socks for skiing. But when Father trundled a bicycle out from behind the tree straight toward him, Arne could hardly see anything else.
Bergel was exclaiming in delight over a small and lovely tea set. And all the others were just as pleased with their gifts.
In the excitement, Gustav went quietly out of the room, and even Arne did not notice him. He was eagerly examining his bicycle, turning the wheels, feeling the pedals, noting every detail of handlebar and seat, headlight and horn and luggage carrier.
“Herr Professor, do you think I might be big enough to go on that trip you’re going to conduct next summer?” he asked eagerly. “Now that I have my bicycle?”
“You’re big enough to suit me. But let’s see what your father says.”
“We will wait to hear what Julenissen says,” answered Herr Dalen, his eyes twinkling. “If he seems to think you’re a good boy—” He broke off as a great noise was heard in the hallway and a pair of astonishing figures burst in.
Everyone laughed and clapped, for here was Julenissen himself, with his pointed red cap and long whiskers. He was larger than Julenissen really should be, for his feet touched the ground as he bestrode the straw-trimmed goat, Julebuken. But no one minded that, and everyone screamed and laughed and tried to get out of his way.
There seemed to be no bad children in the Dalen relationship, for Julebuken stamped about the room without bumping anyone. He went so fast, Julenissen had hard work to keep up with him, and soon the lively pair were on their way again, Julenissen explaining, in a voice very like Gustav’s, that this was a busy night.