Very lonely and sad would these two people have been but for Olaf, the son of their nearest neighbor.  It was he whose clear ringing voice might be heard in the forest when returning from his work, and Fritz said that it made labor light but to hear him.  It was he, too, who, when Fritz had been lamed by the fall of a tree, had borne him home on his strong young shoulders; so it was no wonder that the good wife was grateful to him.  Often at evening he made their fireside bright with his songs and merry stories, and now it was but just that they should shake off their sorrow for his sake; so the good wife drew out her spotless board, and kneaded spice-cakes, and spread her best damask, and set out the fine china.

“Ah, if I had my little one!” murmured the good woman.  “But God knows best,” she quickly added, as she remembered many blessings.

“Here comes Olaf!” shouted Fritz from below.  “Come quickly, lest he think thee tardy.”

“Yes, yes, I come.  I see him,” was her reply.  “But what is that he carries—­something he has picked up on the way?”

“A Christmas gift for thee,” was the merry answer from Olaf’s ringing voice, as he laid a strange bundle in her arms.

CHAPTER III

Little Flax-Flower had been with St. Nicholas a whole long week.  In that time she had been in every nook and corner of his dwelling.  She had seen all his elves and dwarfs at work manufacturing every known toy to be found in the world.  She had watched the dolls’ dress-makers; she had ridden the toy horses; she had blown the brass bugles and beaten the drums until Mrs. Christmas had to put cotton in her ears.

Now all this was very delightful, and made Santa Claus laugh long and loud.  He would not have cared if she had brought the house down on his ears, so long as she had a bright smile and a kiss for him.  But when Boreas Bluster stopped to see how his young ward was getting on, he shook his head gravely and told Mrs. Christmas he feared she was spoiling Flax-Flower.  But Mrs. Christmas laughed just in the same manner that Santa Claus had done, and declared that the child must have all she wanted.

Unfortunately, Flax-Flower went into the kitchen one day, and finding all the cooks busily making sugar-plums, helped herself so largely to taffy that she was made very ill; she ate, besides, quite a menagerie of lemon-candy elephants, camels, and kangaroos, which disagreed with themselves and with her; so that her head ached, and she had to be put to bed, with a hot-water bottle and a mustard draught for companions.  This happened just as Boreas had stopped in to inquire about his pet, and he shook his head gravely when Mrs. Christmas related the incident.  But Santa Claus only laughed till the air seemed full of merriment.

“Ah, my dear Claus, I see you have too easy and gentle a nature to deal with wilful little mortals in an every-day way; besides, you have to think of so many that it unfits you for the care of a single one,” said Boreas, in his least gruff manner.  “I shall have to find another home for Flax-Flower.”