FullReads

With these words he stepped out to greet the bright morning, and a
moment later he was trudging along, whistling softly to himself, on
his way to his home in the Laughing Valley.

Marching over the snow toward the mountain was a vast army, made up of
the most curious creatures imaginable. There were numberless knooks
from the forest, as rough and crooked in appearance as the gnarled
branches of the trees they ministered to. And there were dainty ryls
from the fields, each one bearing the emblem of the flower or plant it
guarded. Behind these were many ranks of pixies, gnomes and nymphs, and
in the rear a thousand beautiful fairies floated along in gorgeous array.

This wonderful army was led by Wisk, Peter, Nuter, and Kilter, who had
assembled it to rescue Santa Claus from captivity and to punish the
Daemons who had dared to take him away from his beloved children.

And, although they looked so bright and peaceful, the little immortals
were armed with powers that would be very terrible to those who had
incurred their anger. Woe to the Daemons of the Caves if this mighty
army of vengeance ever met them!

But lo! coming to meet his loyal friends appeared the imposing form of
Santa Claus, his white beard floating in the breeze and his bright
eyes sparkling with pleasure at this proof of the love and veneration
he had inspired in the hearts of the most powerful creatures in existence.

And while they clustered around him and danced with glee at his safe
return, he gave them earnest thanks for their support. But Wisk, and
Nuter, and Peter, and Kilter, he embraced affectionately.

“It is useless to pursue the Daemons,” said Santa Claus to the army.
“They have their place in the world, and can never be destroyed. But
that is a great pity, nevertheless,” he continued musingly.

So the fairies, and knooks, and pixies, and ryls all escorted the good
man to his castle, and there left him to talk over the events of the
night with his little assistants.

Wisk had already rendered himself invisible and flown through the big
world to see how the children were getting along on this bright
Christmas morning; and by the time he returned, Peter had finished
telling Santa Claus of how they had distributed the toys.

“We really did very well,” cried the fairy, in a pleased voice; “for I
found little unhappiness among the children this morning. Still, you
must not get captured again, my dear master; for we might not be so
fortunate another time in carrying out your ideas.”

He then related the mistakes that had been made, and which he had not
discovered until his tour of inspection. And Santa Claus at once sent
him with rubber boots for Charlie Smith, and a doll for Mamie Brown;
so that even those two disappointed ones became happy.

As for the wicked Daemons of the Caves, they were filled with anger
and chagrin when they found that their clever capture of Santa Claus
had come to naught. Indeed, no one on that Christmas Day appeared to
be at all selfish, or envious, or hateful. And, realizing that while
the children’s saint had so many powerful friends it was folly to
oppose him, the Daemons never again attempted to interfere with his
journeys on Christmas Eve.