THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF SANTA CLAUS: ILLUSTRATED EDITIONThe Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum - Illustrated Edition - A delightful tale of how baby Claus grew up and became the well known international father of Christmas representing good all over the world. Recommended By The Gunston Trust for Nonviolence in Literature for Children & Young Adults.Ages 3 up+
|Product dimensions:||6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.38(d)|
About the Author
Date of Birth:May 15, 1856
Date of Death:May 6, 1919
Place of Birth:Chittenango, New York
Place of Death:Hollywood, California
Education:Attended Peekskill Military Academy and Syracuse Classical School
Read an Excerpt
Have you heard of the great Forest of Burzee? Nurse used to sing of it when I was a child. She sang of the big tree-trunks, standing close together, with their roots intertwining below the earth and their branches intertwining above it; of their rough coating of bark and queer, gnarled limbs; of the bushy foliage that roofed the entire forest, save where the sunbeams found a path through which to touch the ground in little spots and to cast weird and curious shadows over the mosses, the lichens and the drifts of dried leaves.
The Forest of Burzee is mighty and grand and awesome to those who steal beneath its shade. Coming from the sunlit meadows into its mazes it seems at first gloomy, then pleasant, and afterward filled with never-ending delights.
For hundreds of years it has flourished in all its magnificence, the silence of its inclosure unbroken save by the chirp of busy chipmunks, the growl of wild beasts and the songs of birds.
Yet Burzee has its inhabitants—for all this. Nature peopled it in the beginning with Fairies, Knooks, Ryls and Nymphs. As long as the Forest stands it will be a home, a refuge and a playground to these sweet immortals, who revel undisturbed in its depths.
Civilization has never yet reached Burzee. Will it ever, I wonder?
The Child of the Forest
Once, so long ago our great-grandfathers could scarcely have heard it mentioned, there lived within the great Forest of Burzee a wood-nymph named Necile. She was closely related to the mighty Queen Zurline, and her home was beneath the shade of a widespreading oak. Once every year, on Budding Day, when the trees put forth their new buds, Necile held the Golden Chalice of Ak to the lips of the Queen, who drank therefrom to the prosperity of the Forest. So you see, she was a nymph of some importance, and, moreover, it is said she was highly regarded because of her beauty and grace.
When she was created she could not have told; Queen Zurline could not have told; the great Ak himself could not have told. It was long ago when the world was new and nymphs were needed to guard the forests and to minister to the wants of the young trees. Then, on some day not remembered, Necile sprang into being; radiant, lovely, straight and slim as the sapling she was created to guard.
Her hair was the color that lines a chestnut-bur; her eyes were blue in the sunlight and purple in the shade; her cheeks bloomed with the faint pink that edges the clouds at sunset; her lips were full red, pouting and sweet. For costume she adopted oak-leaf green; all the wood-nymphs dress in that color and know no other so desirable. Her dainty feet were sandal-clad, while her head remained bare of covering other than her silken tresses.
Necile’s duties were few and simple. She kept hurtful weeds from growing beneath her trees and sapping the earth-food required by her charges. She frightened away the Gadgols, who took evil delight in flying against the tree-trunks and wounding them so that they drooped and died from the poisonous contact. In dry seasons she carried water from the brooks and pools and moistened the roots of her thirsty dependents.
That was in the beginning. The weeds had now learned to avoid the forests where wood-nymphs dwelt; the loathsome Gadgols no longer dared come nigh; the trees had become old and sturdy and could bear the drought better than when fresh-sprouted. So Necile’s duties were lessened, and time grew laggard, while succeeding years became more tiresome and uneventful than the nymph’s joyous spirit loved.
Truly the forest-dwellers did not lack amusement. Each full moon they danced in the Royal Circle of the Queen. There were also the Feast of Nuts, the Jubilee of Autumn Tintings, the solemn ceremony of Leaf Shedding and the revelry of Budding Day. But these periods of enjoyment were far apart, and left many weary hours between.
That a wood-nymph should grow discontented was not thought of by Necile’s sisters. It came upon her only after many years of brooding. But when once she had settled in her mind that life was irksome she had no patience with her condition, and longed to do something of real interest and to pass her days in ways hitherto undreamed of by forest nymphs. The Law of the Forest alone restrained her from going forth in search of adventure.
While this mood lay heavy upon pretty Necile it chanced that the great Ak visited the Forest of Burzee and allowed the wood-nymphs—as was their wont—to lie at his feet and listen to the words of wisdom that fell from his lips. Ak is the Master Woodsman of the world; he sees everything, and knows more than the sons of men.
That night he held the Queen’s hand, for he loved the nymphs as a father loves his children; and Necile lay at his feet with many of her sisters and earnestly harkened as he spoke.
“We live so happily, my fair ones, in our forest glades,” said Ak, stroking his grizzled beard thoughtfully, “that we know nothing of the sorrow and misery that fall to the lot of those poor mortals who inhabit the open spaces of the earth. They are not of our race, it is true, yet compassion well befits beings so fairly favored as ourselves. Often as I pass by the dwelling of some suffering mortal I am tempted to stop and banish the poor thing’s misery. Yet suffering, in moderation, is the natural lot of mortals, and it is not our place to interfere with the laws of Nature.”
“Nevertheless,” said the fair Queen, nodding her golden head at the Master Woodsman, “it would not be a vain guess that Ak has often assisted these hapless mortals.”
“Sometimes,” he replied, “when they are very young—‘children,’ the mortals call them—I have stopped to rescue them from misery. The men and women I dare not interfere with; they must bear the burdens Nature has imposed upon them. But the helpless infants, the innocent children of men, have a right to be happy until they become full-grown and able to bear the trials of humanity. So I feel I am justified in assisting them. Not long ago—a year, maybe—I found four poor children huddled in a wooden hut, slowly freezing to death. Their parents had gone to a neighboring village for food, and had left a fire to warm their little ones while they were absent. But a storm arose and drifted the snow in their path, so they were long on the road. Meantime the fire went out and the frost crept into the bones of the waiting children.”
“Poor things!” murmured the Queen softly. “What did you do?”
“I called Nelko, bidding him fetch wood from my forests and breathe upon it until the fire blazed again and warmed the little room where the children lay. Then they ceased shivering and fell asleep until their parents came.”
“I am glad you did thus,” said the good Queen, beaming upon the Master; and Necile, who had eagerly listened to every word, echoed in a whisper: “I, too, am glad!”
“And this very night,” continued Ak, “as I came to the edge of Burzee I heard a feeble cry, which I judged came from a human infant. I looked about me and found, close to the forest, a helpless babe, lying quite naked upon the grasses and wailing piteously. Not far away, screened by the forest, crouched Shiegra, the lioness, intent upon devouring the infant for her evening meal.”
“And what did you do, Ak?” asked the Queen, breathlessly.
“Not much, being in a hurry to greet my nymphs. But I commanded Shiegra to lie close to the babe, and to give it her milk to quiet its hunger. And I told her to send word throughout the forest, to all beasts and reptiles, that the child should not be harmed.”
“I am glad you did thus,” said the good Queen again, in a tone of relief; but this time Necile did not echo her words, for the nymph, filled with a strange resolve, had suddenly stolen away from the group.
Swiftly her lithe form darted through the forest paths until she reached the edge of mighty Burzee, when she paused to gaze curiously about her. Never until now had she ventured so far, for the Law of the Forest had placed the nymphs in its inmost depths.
Necile knew she was breaking the Law, but the thought did not give pause to her dainty feet. She had decided to see with her own eyes this infant Ak had told of, for she had never yet beheld a child of man. All the immortals are full-grown; there are no children among them. Peering through the trees Necile saw the child lying on the grass. But now it was sweetly sleeping, having been comforted by the milk drawn from Shiegra. It was not old enough to know what peril means; if it did not feel hunger it was content.
Softly the nymph stole to the side of the babe and knelt upon the sward, her long robe of rose leaf color spreading about her like a gossamer cloud. Her lovely countenance expressed curiosity and surprise, but, most of all, a tender, womanly pity. The babe was new-born, chubby and pink. It was entirely helpless. While the nymph gazed the infant opened its eyes, smiled upon her, and stretched out two dimpled arms. In another instant Necile had caught it to her breast and was hurrying with it through the forest paths.
The Master Woodsman suddenly rose, with knitted brows. “There is a strange presence in the Forest,” he declared. Then the Queen and her nymphs turned and saw standing before them Necile, with the sleeping infant clasped tightly in her arms and a defiant look in her deep blue eyes.
And thus for a moment they remained, the nymphs filled with surprise and consternation, but the brow of the Master Woodsman gradually clearing as he gazed intently upon the beautiful immortal who had wilfully broken the Law. Then the great Ak, to the wonder of all, laid his hand softly on Necile’s flowing locks and kissed her on her fair forehead.
“For the first time within my knowledge,” said he, gently, “a nymph has defied me and my laws; yet in my heart can I find no word of chiding. What is your desire, Necile?”
“Let me keep the child!” she answered, beginning to tremble and falling on her knees in supplication.
“Here, in the Forest of Burzee, where the human race has never yet penetrated?” questioned Ak.
“Here, in the Forest of Burzee,” replied the nymph, boldly. “It is my home, and I am weary for lack of occupation. Let me care for the babe! See how weak and helpless it is. Surely it can not harm Burzee nor the Master Woodsman of the World!”
“But the Law, child, the Law!” cried Ak, sternly.
“The Law is made by the Master Woodsman,” returned Necile; “if he bids me care for the babe he himself has saved from death, who in all the world dare oppose me?” Queen Zurline, who had listened intently to this conversation, clapped her pretty hands gleefully at the nymph’s answer.
“You are fairly trapped, O Ak!” she exclaimed, laughing. “Now, I pray you, give heed to Necile’s petition.”
The Woodsman, as was his habit when in thought, stroked his grizzled beard slowly. Then he said:
“She shall keep the babe, and I will give it my protection. But I warn you all that as this is the first time I have relaxed the Law, so shall it be the last time. Never more, to the end of the World, shall a mortal be adopted by an immortal. Otherwise would we abandon our happy existence for one of trouble and anxiety. Good night, my nymphs!”
Then Ak was gone from their midst, and Necile hurried away to her bower to rejoice over her newfound treasure.
Another day found Necile’s bower the most popular place in the Forest. The nymphs clustered around her and the child that lay asleep in her lap, with expressions of curiosity and delight. Nor were they wanting in praises for the great Ak’s kindness in allowing Necile to keep the babe and to care for it. Even the Queen came to peer into the innocent childish face and to hold a helpless, chubby fist in her own fair hand.
“What shall we call him, Necile?” she asked, smiling. “He must have a name, you know.”
“Let him be called Claus,” answered Necile, “for that means ‘a little one.’”
“Rather let him be called Neclaus,”* returned the Queen, “for that will mean ‘Necile’s little one.’”
The nymphs clapped their hands in delight, and Neclaus became the infant’s name, although Necile loved best to call him Claus, and in afterdays many of her sisters followed her example.
Necile gathered the softest moss in all the forest for Claus to lie upon, and she made his bed in her own bower. Of food the infant had no lack. The nymphs searched the forest for bell-udders, which grow upon the goa-tree and when opened are found to be filled with sweet milk. And the soft-eyed does willingly gave a share of their milk to support the little stranger, while Shiegra, the lioness, often crept stealthily into Necile’s bower and purred softly as she lay beside the babe and fed it.
Excerpted from "The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus"
Copyright © 2015 L. Frank Baum.
Excerpted by permission of Penguin Publishing Group.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of ContentsLyman Frank Baum began his career as a journalist but established his reputation by writing for children. In this children's fantasy, Santa Claus begins his life as an infant abandoned in the woods. He's adopted by a nymph and as he grows up we follow his adventures that eventually lead him to make the biggest decision of his life: to become the benevolent, gift-giving figure we all know.
What People are Saying About This
ACCLAIM FOR THE PENGUIN CHRISTMAS CLASSICS
“For lit nerds and loved ones who are notoriously hard to shop for, you can’t go wrong with these festively bound classics. . . . Their size makes them perfectly stocking-stuffable.” —Entertainment Weekly, “The Must List”
“Leave it to the folks at Penguin—who gave us Gothed-out editions of horror classics for Halloween—to package these . . . slim Yuletide-themed volumes.” —Newsday, “Best Books to Give as Holiday Gifts”
“Remember how Christmas was celebrated before Black Friday with these 19th-century authors, in small uniform volumes wrapped in pretty jackets.” —USA Today, “Holiday Gift Books So Pretty, No Need to Wrap”
“Beautifully designed.” —The Washington Post