"If you love me, Jack, spare the children," begged Claus.
"And why?" asked the other, in surprise.
"They are tender and helpless," answered Claus.
"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 can not 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.
Claus threw a log on the fire, which burned up brightly. Beside the
hearth sat Blinkie, a big cat give him by Peter the Knook. Her fur
was soft and glossy, and she purred never-ending songs of contentment.
"I shall not see the children again soon," said Claus to the cat, who
kindly paused in 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 Claus 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 Claus became weary with having nothing to do more than to
feed the fire from the big wood-pile the Knooks had brought him.
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