High excursionists. It's me Gnari. I hope you enjoy this very special Christmas
production. I thought it would be fun to have something we can all share
leading up to the Christmas holiday. L frank Baum is a literary icon who
introduced every one of us to the land of Oz. Please gather around with
family and friends for this very special presentation of another of his wonderful stories,
The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus Manhood one the Laughing Valley. When Claws
came, the valley was empty save for the grass, the brook, the
wild flowers, the bees, and the butterflies. If he would make his
home here and live after the fashion of men, he must have a house.
This puzzled him at first, but while he stood smiling in the sunshine,
he suddenly found beside him Old Nelkoe, the servant of the master Woodsman.
Nelkoe bore an axe, strong and broad, with blade that gleamed like
burnished silver. This he placed in the young man's hand, then disappeared without
a word. Claws understood, and turning to the forest's edge, he selected
a number of fallen tree trunks, which he began to clear of their dead
branches. He would not cut into a living tree. His life among the
nymphs who guarded the forest had taught him that a live tree is sacred,
being a creative thing endowed with feeling. But with the dead and fallen trees
it was different. They had fulfilled their destiny as active members of the forest
community, and now it was fitting that their remains should minister to the needs
of man. The axe bit deep into the logs. At every stroke.
It seemed to have a force of its own, and claws had but to
swing and guide it when shadows began creeping over the hills to lie in the
valley over night. The young man had chopped many logs into equal lengths and
proper shapes for building a house, such as he had seen the poorer classes
of men in habit, then resolving to await another day before he tried to
fit the logs together, claws ate some of the sweet roots he well knew
how to find. Drank deeply from the laughing brook and lay down to sleep
on the grass, first seeking a spot where no flowers grew, lest the
weight of his body should crush them. And while he slumbered and breathed in
the perfume of the wondrous valley of the spirit of happiness crept into his heart
and drove out all terror and care and misgivings. Never more would the face
of Claws be clouded with anxieties. Never more would the trials of life weigh
him down as with a burden. The Laughing Valley had claimed him for its
own. Would that we might live in that delightful place, But then maybe
it would become overcrowded for ages it had waited for a tenant. Was it
chance that led young Claws to make his home in this happy vale? Or
may we guess that his thoughtful friends, the immortals, had directed his steps
when he wandered away from Bursey to seek a home in the great world.
Certain it is that while the moon peered over the hilltop and flooded with its
soft beams the body of the sleeping stranger, the Laughing Valley was filled with
the queer, crooked shapes of the friendly nooks. These people spoke no words,
but worked with skill and swiftness. The log's claws had trimmed with his
bright axe, were carried to the spot beside the brook, and fitted one
upon another. And during the night a strong and roomy dwelling was built.
The birds came sweeping into the valley at daybreak, and their songs, so
seldom heard in the deep wood, aroused the stranger. He rubbed the web
asleep from his eyelids and looked around the house met his gaze. I must
thank the knooks for this, he said, gratefully. Then he walked to
his dwelling and entered at the doorway. A large room faced him, having
a fireplace at the end, and a table and a bench in the middle.
Beside the fireplace was a cupboard. Another doorway was beyond. Claws entered
here also and saw a smaller room with a bed against the wall and a
stool set near a small stand. On the bed were many layers of dried
moss brought from the forest. Indeed, it is a palace, exclaimed the
smiling Claus. I must thank the good knooks again for their knowledge of man's
needs, as well as for their labors in my behalf. He left his
new home with a glad feeling that he was not quite alone in the world.
Although he had chosen to abandon his forest life. Friendships are not easily
broken, and immortals are everywhere Upon reaching the brook, he drank of the
pure water, and then he sat down on the bank to laugh at the
mischievous gambols of the ripples as they pushed one another against the rocks, or
crowded desperately to see which should first reach the term beyond. And as they
raced away, he listened to the song they sang, A name all al
excite a do not to stay at tom on ou next clause searched for roots
to eat, while the daffodils turned their little eyes up to him laughingly and
lisped in their dainty song, fairy cling, weary flows, Swiss say,
breathing Juez comes, sweeteous lame. It made claws laugh to hear the little
things voice their happiness as they nodded gracefully on their stems. But another strain
caught his ear as the sunbeams fell gently across his face, and whispered,
he is the las days calmar Yes, cried claws in answer, There is
happiness and joy in all things. Here, the Laughing Valley is a valley
of peace and goodwill. He passed the day talking with the ants and beetles,
and exchanging jokes with the lighthearted butterflies, and at night he lay on
his bed of soft moss and slept soundly. Then came the fairies, merry
but noiseless, bringing skillets and pots, and dishes and pans, and all
the tools necessary to prepare food and to comfort immortal. With these they filled
cupboard and fireplace, finally placing a stout suit of wool clothing on the stool
by the bedside. When Claws awoke, he rubbed his eyes again and laughed
and spoke aloud his thanks to the fairies and the Master woodsmen who had sent
them. With eager joy, he examined all his new possessions, wondering what
sum might be used for. But in the days when he had clung to
the girdle of the Great Ac and visited the cities of men, his eyes
had been quick to note all the manners and customs of the race to which
he belonged. So he guessed from the gifts brought by the fairies that the
Master expected him hereafter to live in the fashion of his fellow creatures, which
means that I must plow the earth and plant corn, he reflected, so
that when winter comes I shall have garnered food in plenty. But as he
stood in the grassy valley, he saw that to turn up the earth and
furrow would be to destroy hundreds of pretty, helpless flowers, as well as
thousands of tender blades of grass, and this he could not bear to do.
Therefore, he stretched out his arms and uttered a peculiar whistle he had
learned in the forest. Afterward, crying, Rles of the field flowers come
to me. Instantly A dozen of the queer little ryles were squatting upon the
ground before him, and they nodded to him in cheerful greeting. Claws gazed
upon them earnestly. Your brothers of the forest, he said, I have
known and loved many years. I shall love you also when we have become
friends to me. The laws of the ryles, whether those of the forest
or of the field, are sacred. I have never wilfully destroyed one of
the flowers you tend so carefully. But I must plant grain to use for
food during the cold winter. And how am I to do this without killing
the little creatures that sing to me so prettily of their fragrant blossoms. The
yellow ryle, he who tends the buttercups made answer fret not, friend,
Claus, the great Ac has spoken to us of you. There is better
work for you in life than to labor for food. And though not being
of the forest, Ac has no command over us. Nevertheless, we are
glad to favor one he loves live. Therefore, to do the good work
you are resolved to undertake, We the field Rles will attend to your food
supplies. After this speech, the Ryles were no longer to be seen,
and claws drove from his mind the thought of tilling the earth. When next
he wandered back to his dwelling, a bowl of fresh milk stood upon the
table. Bread was in the cupboard, and sweet honey filled a dish beside
it. A pretty basket of rosy apples and new plucked grapes was also awaiting
him. He called out, thanks, my friends, to the invisible Ryles,
and straightway began to eat of the food. Therefore, when hungry,
he had but to look into the cupboard to find goodly supplies brought by the
kindly Rles, and the nook cut and stacked much wood for his fireplace,
and the fairies brought him warm blankets and clothing so began his life in the
Laughing Valley, with the favor and friendship of the immortals to minister to his
every want. Two, how Claws made the first toy. Truly, our
claws had wisdom, for his good fortune had strengthened his resolve to befriend the
little ones of his own race. He knew his plan was approved by the
immortals, else they would not have favored him so greatly. So he began
at once to make acquaintance with mankind. He walked through the valley to the
plain beyond, and crossed the plain in many directions to reach the abodes of
men. These stood singly or in groups of dwellings called villages, And in
nearly all the houses, whether big or little, Claws found children. The
youngsters soon came to know his merry, laughing face and the kind glance of
his bright eyes. And the parents, while they regarded the young man with
some scorn for loving children more than their own, were content that the girls
and boys had found a playfellow who seemed willing to amuse them. So the
children robbed and played games with Claws, and the boys rode upon his shoulders,
and the girls nestled in his strong arms, and the babies clung fondly
to his knees. Wherever the young man chanced to be, the sound of
childish laughter followed him. And to understand this better, you must know that
children were much neglected in those days, and received little attention from their parents,
so that it became to them a marvel that so goodly a man as
Claws devoted his time to making them happy, And those who knew him were,
you may be sure, very happy. Indeed, the sad faces of
the poor and abused grew bright, for once the cripple smiled despite his misfortune.
The ailing ones hushed their moans, and the grieved ones their cries when
their merry friend came nigh to comfort them. Only at the beautiful palace of
the Lord of Laird, and at the frowning castle of the baron Braun was
Claws refused admittance. There were children at both places, but the servants of
the palace shut the door in the young stranger's face, and the fierce baron
threatened to hang him from an iron hook on the castle walls, whereupon Klaus
sighed and went back to the poorer dwellings. Where he was welcome. After
a time, the winter drew near. The flowers lived out their lives and
faded and disappeared. The beetles burrowed far into the warm earth, the butterflies
deserted the meadows, and the voice of the brook grew hoarse, as if
it had taken cold. One day, snowflakes filled all the air in the
Laughing valley, dancing boisterously toward the earth, and clothing in pure white raiment
the roof of Claws's dwelling. At night, Jack Frost rapped at the door.
Come in, cried Claws. Come out, answered Jack, for you
have a fire inside. So Claws came out. He had known Jack Frost
in the forest and liked the jolly rogue, even while he mistrusted him.
There will be rare sport for me tonight, Claws shouted the sprite. Isn't
this glorious weather? I shall nip scores of noses and ears and toes before
daybreak. If you love me, Jack, spare the children, begged Claws,
And why, asked the other in surprise. They are tender and helpless,
answered Claws. But I love to nip the tender ones, declared Jack.
The older ones are tough and tire my fingers. The young ones are
weak and cannot fight you, said Claus, true, agreed Jack thoughtfully.
Well, I will not pinch a child this night, if I can resist
the temptation, he promised. Good night, Claus, good night. The
young man went in and closed the door, and Jack Frost ran on to
the nearest village. Claws threw a log on the fire, which burned up
brightly. Besides the hearth sat Blinky, a big cat give him by Peter
the nook. Her fur was soft and glossy, and she purred never ending
songs of contentment. I shall not see the children again soon, said Claws
to the cat, who kindly paused her song to listen. The winter is
upon us. The snow will be deep for many days, and I shall
be unable to play with my little friends. The cat raised a paw and
stroked her nose thoughtfully, but made no reply. So long as the fire
burned and Claws sat in his easy chair by the hearth, she did not
mind the weather. So passed many days and many long evenings. The cupboard
was always full, but Claws became weary with having nothing to do more than
to feed the fire from the big wood pile the Knooks had brought him.
One evening, he picked up a stick of wood and began to cut it
with his sharp knife. He had no thought at first except to occupy his
time, and he whistled and sang to the cat as he carved away some
portions of the stick. Puss sat up on her haunches and watched him,
listening at the same time to her master's merry whistle, which she loved to
hear even more than her own purring songs. Claws glanced at Puss, and
then at the stick he was whittling, until presently the wood began to have
shape, and the shape was like the head of a cat with two ears
sticking upward. Claus stopped whistling to laugh, and then both he and the
cat looked at the wooden image in some surprise. Then he carved out the
eyes and the nose, and rounded the lower part of the head so that
it rested upon a neck. Puss hardly knew what to make of it now,
and sat up stiffly, as if watching with some suspicion what would come
next. Bos knew the head gave him an idea. He plied his knife
carefully and with skill, forming slowly the body of the cat, which he
made to sit upon its haunches as the real cat did, with her tail
wound around her two front legs. The work cost him much time, but
the evening was long and he had nothing better to do. Finally, he
gave a loud and delighted laugh at the result of his labors, and placed
the wooden cat, now completed, upon the hearth opposite the real one.
Puss thereupon glared at her image, raised her hair in anger, and uttered
a defiant mew. The wooden cat paid no attention, and claws, much
amused, laughed again. Then Blinky advanced toward the wooden image, to eye
it closely and smell of it intelligently. Eyes and nose told her the creature
was wood in spite of its natural appearance. So Puss resumed her seat and
her purring. But as she neatly washed her face with her padded paw,
she cast more than one admiring glance at her clever master. Perhaps she felt
the same satisfaction we feel when we look upon a good photograph of ourselves.
The cat's master was himself, pleased with his handiwork, without knowing exactly why.
Indeed, he had great cause to congratulate himself, and all the children
throughout the world should have joined him rejoicing, for Claws had made his first
toy. Three. How the ryls colored the toys a hush lay on the
laughing valley, now snow covered it like a white spread, and pillows of
downy flakes drifted before the dwelling where Claws sat feeding the blaze of the fire.
The brook gurgled on beneath a heavy sheet of ice, and all living
plants and insects nestled close to Mother Earth to keep warm. The face of
the moon was hid by dark clouds, and the wind, delighting in the
wintery sport, pushed and whirled the snowflakes in so many directions that they could
get no chance to fall to the ground. Claws heard the wind whistling and
shrieking in its play, and thanked the good nooks again for his comfortable shelter.
Blinky washed her face lazily and stared at the coals with a look of
perfect content. The toy cat sat opposite the real one and gazed straight ahead.
As toy cat should Suddenly, Claws heard a noise that sounded different from
the voice of the wind. It was more like a wail of suffering and
despair. He stood up and listened, but the wind, growing boisterous,
shook the door and rattled the windows to distract his attention. He waited until
the wind was tired, and then, still listening, he heard once more
the shrill cry of distress. Quickly, he drew on his coat, pulled
his cap over his eyes, and opened the door. The wind dashed in
and scattered the embers over the hearth, at the same time blowing Blinkie's fur
so furiously that she crept under the table to escape. Then the door was
closed and Claws was outside, peering anxiously into the darkness. The wind laughed
and scolded and tried to push him over, but he stood firm. The
helpless flakes stumbled against his eyes and dimmed his sight, but he rubbed them
away and looked again. Snow was everywhere, white and glittering. It covered
the earth and filled the air. The cry was not repeated. Claws turned
to go back into the house, but the wind caught him unawares, and
he stumbled and fell across the snow drift. His hand plunged into the drift
and touched something that was not snow. This he seized, and, pulling
it gently toward him, found it to be a child. The next moment,
he had lifted it in his arms and carried it into the house.
The wind followed him through the door, but Claws shut it out quickly.
He laid the rescued child on the hearth, and brushing away the snow,
he discovered it to be Weakem, a little boy who lived in a house
beyond the valley. Claws wrapped a warm blanket around the little one and rubbed
the frost from its limbs. Before long, the child opened his eyes,
and, seeing where he was, smiled happily. Then Claws warmed milk and
fed it to the boy slowly, while the cat looked on with sober curiosity.
Finally, the little one curled up in his friend's arms and sighed and
fell asleep, and Claws, filled with the gladness that he had found the
wanderer, held him closely while he slumbered the wind, finding no more mischief
to do, climbed the hill and swept on toward the north. This gave
the weary snowflakes time to settle down to the earth, and the valley became
still again. The boy, having slept well in the arms of his friend,
opened his eyes and sat up. Then, as a child will,
he looked around the room and saw all that it contained. Your cat is
a nice cat, Claws, he said, at last, let me hold
it. But Puss objected and ran away. The other cat won't run,
Claws continued the boy. Let me hold that one. Claws placed the toy
in his arms, and the boy held it lovingly and kissed the tip of
its wooden ear. How did you get lost in the storm? Weakem asked
Claw. I started to walk to my Auntie's house and lost my way,
answered Weakam. Were you frightened? It was cold, said Weakam, and
the snow got in my eyes so I could not see. Then I kept
on till I fell in the snow without knowing where I was, and the
wind blew the flakes over me and covered me up. Claws gently stroked his
head, and the boy looked up at him and smiled. I am all
right now, said weakm Yes, replied Claws, happily. Now I will
put you in my warm bed, and you must sleep until morning, when
I will carry you back to your mother. May the cat sleep with me?
Asked the boy, Yes, if you wish it to, answered Claws.
It's a nice cat, Weakham said, smiling as Claws tucked the blankets
around him, and presently the little one fell asleep with the wooden toy in
his arms. When morning came, the sun claimed the laughing valley and flooded
it with his rays. So Claws prepared to take the lost child back to
its mother. May I keep the cat, Claws asked Wickham. It's nicer
than real cats. It doesn't run away or scratch or bite. May I
keep it? Yes, indeed, answered Claws. Please that the toy he
made could give pleasure to the child, So he wrapped the boy and the
wooden cat in a warm cloak, perching the bundle upon his own broad shoulders,
and then he tramped through the snow and the drifts of the valley and
across the plain beyond to the poor cottage where Wickham's mother lived. See Mamma,
cried the boy as soon as they entered. I've got a cat.
The good woman wept tears of joy over the rescue. Of her darling,
and thanked Claws many times for his kind act. So he carried a warm
and happy heart back to his home in the valley. That night, he
said to Puss, I believe the children will love the wooden cats almost as
well as the real ones, and they can't hurt them by pulling their tails
and ears. I'll make another. So this was the beginning of his great
work. The next cat was better made than the first. While Claw sat
whittling it out, the yellow Rle came in to make him a visit,
and so pleased was he with the man's skill, that he ran away and
brought several of his fellows. There sat the red Rle, the Black Rle,
the Green Rle, the Blue Rile, and the Yellow Rile in a
circle on the floor, while Claws whittled and whistled, and the wooden cat
grew into shape. If it could be made the same color as the real
cat, no one would know the difference, said the Yellow Rile thoughtfully.
The little ones maybe would not know the difference, replied Claws, pleased with
the idea, I will bring you some of the red that I color my
roses and tulips with, cried the red rile, and then you can make
the cat's lips and tongue red. I will bring some of the green that
I color my grasses and leaves with, said the green rle, and then
you can color the cat's eyes green. They will need a bit of yellow,
also, remarked the yellow rile. I must fetch some of the yellow
that I used to color my buttercups and golden rods with. The real cat
is black, said the black rile. I will bring some of the black
that I use to color the eyes of my pansies with, and then you
can paint your wooden cat black. I see you have a blue ribbon around
Blinkie's neck, added the blue rile, I will get some of the color
that I use to paint the bluebells and forget me nots with. And then
you can carve a wooden ribbon on the toy cat's neck and paint it blue.
So the rles disappeared, and by the time claws had finished carving out
the form of the cat, they were all back with paints and brushes.
They made Blinkie sit upon the table that claws might paint the toy cat just
the right color and When the work was done, the riles declared it was
exactly as good as a live cat, that is, to all appearances,
added the red rile Blinkie seemed a little offended by the attention bestowed upon the
toy, and that she might not seemed to approve the imitation cat. She
walked to the corner of the hearth and sat down with a dignified air.
But Claws was delighted, and as soon as morning came he started out and
tramped through the snow, across the valley and the plain, until he came
to a village. There, in a poor hut near the walls of the
beautiful palace of the Lord of Laird, a little girl lay upon a wretched
cot, moaning with pain. Claws approached the child and kissed her and comforted
her. And then he drew the toy cat from beneath his coat where he
had hidden it, and placed it in her arms. Ah, how well
he felt himself repaid for his labor and his long walk. When he saw
the little one's eyes grow bright with pleasure. She hugged the kitty tight to
her breast as if it had been a precious gem, and would not let
it go. For a single moment, the fever was quieted and the pain
grew less, and she fell into a sweet and refreshing sleep. Claws laughed
and whistled and sang all the way home. Never had he been so happy
as on that day. When he entered his house, he found Chigra,
the lioness, awaiting him. Since his babyhood, Schigra had loved Claws,
and while he dwelt in the forest, she had often come to visit him
at Nicille's bower. After Claus had gone to live in the Laughing Valley,
Chigra became lonely and ill at ease, and now she had braved the snowdrift
which all lions abhoor to see him once more. Chigra was getting old,
and her teeth were beginning to fall out, while the hairs that tipped her
ears and tail had changed from tawny yellow to white. Claws found her lying
on his hearth, and he put his arms around the neck of the lioness
and hugged her lovingly. The cat had retired into a far corner. She
did not care to associate with Chigra. Klaus told his old friend about the
cats he had made, and how much pleasure they had given Wakham and the
sick girl. Chigra did not know much about children. Indeed, if she
met a child, she could scarcely be trusted not to devour it. But
she was interested in Claus's new labor and said, these images seemed to me
very attractive. Yet I cannot see why you should make cats, which are
very unimportant animals. Suppose now that I am here, you make the image
of a lioness, the queen of all beasts, then indeed your children will
be happy and safe. At the same time, Claus thought this was a
good suggestion, so he got a piece of wood and sharpened his knife while
Sheigra crouched upon the hearth at his feet. With much care, he carved
the head in the likeness of the lioness, even to the two fierce teeth
that curled over her lower lip and the deep frowning lines above her wide open
eyes. When it was finished, he said, you have a terrible look,
Chigra. Then the image is like me, she answered, for I
am indeed terrible to all who are not my friends. Claws now carved out
the body with Sheigra's long tail, trailing behind it. The image of the
crouching lioness was very lifelike. It pleases me, said Chigra, yawning and
stretching her body gracefully. Now I will watch while you paint. He brought
the paints the Ryles had given him from the cupboard and colored the image to
resemble the real Chigra. The lioness placed her big, padded paws upon the
edge of the table and raised herself while she carefully examined the toy that was
her likeness. You are indeed skillful, she said proudly. The children will
like that better than Cat's, I am sure. Then, snarling at Blinkie,
who arched her back in terror and whined fearfully, she walked away toward
her forest home with stately strides. Thank you for joining me for the Into
the Night Anthology podcast production of the Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L.
Frank Baum. All original music, editing, and sound design provided by
Omenhawk Studios. Thank you so much to Project Gutenberg for making public domain books
such as this one accessible to everyone.