SANTA CLAUS NIGHT
It was two weeks before Christmas. Carl had been back from his visit to the mountain village for more than a month. No harm had come to him on his way home, although heavy snow had fallen, which made hard walking. It was worst of all in crossing the glacier, but the boy's uncle took great care, and no accident came to either of them.
And now the joyful day had come which Carl liked best of all the year. He had saved up money for months beforehand to buy presents for his parents and his friend Franz.
What would he receive, himself? He thought sometimes, "I wonder if father will buy me a rifle. He thinks I can shoot pretty well now, I know that. But a rifle of my own! That would be too good to be true."
It was the custom of Carl's village to have the Christmas tree on Saint Claus's Day, two weeks before the real Christmas Day. They did not wait for the time at which we give the presents. Christmas was a holiday, of course, but it was somewhat like Sunday; everybody went to church. There was a sermon, and a great deal of music.
Saint Claus's Day was the time for fun and frolic. Good children looked forward to that day with gladness; but the bad children! dear me! they trembled for fear they would be carried off to some dreadful place by Saint Claus's servant.
All the day before Carl was greatly excited. He could hardly wait for night to come, but it did come at last. The supper-table was scarcely cleared before a loud knocking and stamping of feet could be heard outside.
Rudolf hurried to open the door, while Carl clapped his hands. Who should enter but a jolly-looking old fellow with rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes. He was dressed from head to foot in furs. Surely this was Santa Claus himself. There was a great pack of goodies on his back. Carl could see the red apples and bags of candy sticking out.
But who was the creature that followed Santa Claus? His face was black, his clothes were black, everything about him was black as soot. He carried a broom over his shoulder.