thing of riches," she replied. "It seems to
me that one child is like another child, since they are all made of the
same clay, and that riches are like a gown, which may be put on or
taken away, leaving the child unchanged. But the Fairies are guardians
of mankind, and know mortal children better than I. Let us call the
Fairy Queen."

This was done, and the Queen of the Fairies sat beside them and heard
Claus relate his reasons for thinking the rich children could get along
without his toys, and also what the Nymph had said.

"Necile is right," declared the Queen; "for, whether it be rich or
poor, a child's longings for pretty playthings are but natural. Rich
Bessie's heart may suffer as much grief as poor Mayrie's; she can be
just as lonely and discontented, and just as gay and happy. I think,
friend Claus, it is your duty to make all little ones glad, whether
they chance to live in palaces or in cottages."

"Your words are wise, fair Queen," replied Claus, "and my heart tells
me they are as just as they are wise. Hereafter all children may claim
my services."

Then he bowed before the gracious Fairy and, kissing Necile's red lips,
went back into his Valley.

At the brook he stopped to drink, and afterward he sat on the bank and
took a piece of moist clay in his hands while he thought what sort of
toy he should make for Bessie Blithesome. He did not notice that his
fingers were working the clay into shape until, glancing downward, he
found he had unconsciously formed a head that bore a slight resemblance
to the Nymph Necile!

At once he became interested. Gathering more of the clay from the bank
he carried it to his house. Then, with the aid of his knife and a bit
of wood he succeeded in working the clay into the image of a toy nymph.
With skillful strokes he formed long, waving hair on the head and
covered the body with a gown of oakleaves, while the two feet sticking
out at the bottom of the gown were clad in sandals.

But the clay was soft, and Claus found he must handle it gently to
avoid ruining his pretty work.

"Perhaps the rays of the sun will draw out the moisture and cause the
clay to become hard," he thought. So he laid the image on a flat board
and placed it in the glare of the sun.

This done, he went to his bench and began painting the toy deer, and
soon he became so interested in the work that he forgot all about the
clay nymph. But next morning, happening to notice it as it lay on