grew,
lest the weight of his body should crush them.

And while he slumbered and breathed in the perfume of the wondrous
Valley the Spirit of Happiness crept into his heart and drove out all
terror and care and misgivings. Never more would the face of Claus 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 all might live in that delightful place!--but then,
maybe, it would become overcrowded. For ages it had awaited a tenant.
Was it chance that led young Claus 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 Burzee 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
Knooks. These people spoke no words, but worked with skill and
swiftness. The logs Claus had trimmed with his bright ax were carried
to a 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 of sleep from his eyelids and looked around. The house met his
gaze.

"I must thank the Knooks for this," said he, 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 bench in the middle.
Beside the fireplace was a cupboard. Another doorway was beyond.
Claus 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 the immortals are everywhere.

Upon reaching the brook he drank of the pure water, and then sat down
on the bank to laugh at the mischievous gambols of the ripples as they
pushed one another against rocks or crow