m, "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."

Claus gently stroked his head, and the boy looked up at him and smiled.

"I'm all right now," said Weekum.

"Yes," replied Claus, 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 Claus.

"It's a nice cat!" Weekum said, smiling, as Claus 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 Claus prepared to take the lost child back to its
mother.

"May I keep the cat, Claus?" asked Weekum. "It's nicer than real cats.
It doesn't run away, or scratch or bite. May I keep it?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Claus, pleased that the toy he had 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 Weekum's mother lived.

"See, mama!" 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 Claus 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 Claus sat whittling
it out the Yellow Ryl 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 Ryl, the Black Ryl, the Green Ryl, the Blue Ryl and
the Yellow Ryl in a circle on the floor, while Claus 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 Ryl, thoughtfully.

"The little ones, maybe, would not know the difference," replied Claus,
pleased with the idea.

"I will bring you