Chapter1:
Santa and the Pigwidgen
Chapter2:
The Curse
Chapter3:
Claus Begins A Trip
Chapter4:
Patrick Tweedleknees
Chapter5:
The Sopchoppy Ferry
Chapter6:
Four Gifts
Chapter7:
The Giant
Chapter8:
The Donkey
Chapter9:
The Snake Nest
Chapter10:
The Dagger
Chapter11:
The Door In The Wall
Chapter12:
The Pygmies
Chapter13:
The Pigwidgen
Chapter14:
The Eating Contest
Chapter15:
The Drinking Contest
Chapter16:
The Race
Chapter17:
Merry Christmas To All
Christmas Stories Index
Main Site Index


    Chapter 2: The Curse


    The mysterious warm breeze swept through Claus' house, out the door, up the chimney and through the window cracks.

    Now it was gone.

    The villagers grinned self-consciously. They were ashamed to have been so afraid. They stared at the purse. Where before it had been heavy and bulging it was now flat and empty.

    "You shouldn't have opened it!" Claus groaned. "I promised I'd never open it. Now who knows what will happen!"

    "Nothing will happen," said an elder nervously. "It was all a joke!"

    "There never was anything in it!" scoffed an old man.

    "No gold. No nothing," said another.

    The laughed and shook their fingers at Claus for having fooled them. "What a prankster!" they cried. "Always having fun!"

    A little boy standing at Claus' side opened his mouth wide, wider, wider and gave a huge yawn. A little girl next to him did the same. She said, "I'm sleepy!" A second boy said, "I've NEVER been so sleepy!"

    "I can't keep my eyes open," complained another child. "I want to go to bed," sighed another.

    A moment later, all the children were yawning and rubbing their fists in their eyes. Before anyone quite knew what was happening, the children were sound asleep on their feet.

    Mothers spoke sharply. "For goodnes sake! It's only mid-day. No time for napping. You'll never sleep tonight."

    But it did no good. Fathers lifted the sleeping children and carried them home to their beds.

    All day the children slept. And all night and all the next day. Men blew horns and pounded drums and paraded in the village square making enough noise to shake the houses. Mothers banded pots and pans in the kitchens and called, "Come to dinner. We're having your favorite things!" Fathers leaned over the sleeping children and promised to play ball or go sledding or climb trees with them if only they would wake.

    But the children slept on.

    Meanwhile Claus worked in his woodcarving shop. He made a special toy for each child. A clown. A doll with moving arms and legs. A tiny horse-drawn cart. A music box. A sled. A doll house. A checker game. A set of ten pins. Something for everyone.

    While he worked Mrs. Claus was in the kitchen mixing and baking and loaing the pantry shelves with gingerbread men and raisin cakes and chocolate tortes and coconut patties and pecan pies.

    "When the children awake," they told each other, "we'll feast and give gifts and make merry. What a time we will have!"

    But the children would not wake up, and, finally, everyone knew a curse had been laid on them and they were going to sleep perhaps forever.

    "It all began when the purse was opened," moaned Claus. "It is my fault. I promised never to open it."

    "You must not blame yourself," said Mrs. Claus gently. "It was not you who opened it."

    "It comes to the same thing," said Claus. "The purse was in my keeping." He picked up the old black bag and shook it angrily.

    "I must find a way to break the curse!" he swore. "I will not rest until I do!"

    He flung the bag against the wall. The clasp broke open and a small brass key fell out and skittered across the floor.