ONCE upon a time there was a little boy who talked a great deal about
Santa Claus. He talked to his father, his mother, his brother and
sisters, until it was Santa Claus at the breakfast table, Santa Claus at
dinner and Santa Claus at supper. This little boy had been told that far
away in the Northland lived Santa Claus. He was sitting by the fire one
day watching the embers glow, and seeing castles in the glowing embers.
There is Santa Claus’ house, he said, the great building covered with
snow. “Why can’t I go to see him?” The little boy had worked and had
saved some money. He took the money and went down to the depot, bought a
ticket and before his father or mother knew about it was gone to see
Santa Claus. He traveled a long time on the train and by and by reached
the end of the railroad. He could go no farther on the train for there
was a great wide ocean, but people cross the ocean and so must the
little boy, or at least a part of it, in order to reach Santa Claus’
land. There was a great ship lying in port soon to sail over the seas,
and along with many people who went aboard the ship, went the little
boy. Soon every sail was spread and out from the port went the ship
leaving far behind them the town.
The ship sailed and sailed a long time, and finally land came in sight.
They had reached an island lying somewhere far out in the mid-seas. Some
of the people went ashore and so did the little boy. But what a funny
land it was to the little boy, all the people were little people. The
grown men were not taller than the little boy, and they rode little
ponies that were not larger than dogs. Then the little boy asked, “What
land is this, does Santa Claus live here?” And they said—“No.”
“This is the land that lies east of the sun
And west of the moon.
You have not come too soon.
Northward you must go
To the land of ice and snow.”
And so one day the little boy found a ship that was going to sail to the
Northland and in this ship he went. The ship sailed and sailed a long
time until it finally came to where the sea was all frozen over, to the
land of icebergs and snow fields. The ship could go no farther, so what
do you suppose the little boy did then? He was in the land of the
reindeer, and over the snow fields he went in search of Santa Claus.
One day, as he was traveling over the snow fields to find Santa Claus’
house, he saw not far away what at first seemed to be a hill, but soon
he saw that it was not a hill, but a house covered with ice and snow.
“That must be Santa Claus’ house,” he said. Soon the little boy was
standing in front of the great building whose towers seemed to reach the
sky. Up the shining steps he went and soon he was standing in front of
the door. The little boy saw no door bell and so he knocked on the door.
No one answered and then louder he knocked again. Still no one answered.
He began to feel afraid, perhaps this was the house of a giant. If Santa
Claus lived there, he might be angry with him for coming, but once more
he knocked. And then he heard a noise far down at the other end of the
hall. Some one was coming. Then suddenly the latch went “click,” and the
door stood wide open, and who do you suppose was there? Santa Claus? No;
a little boy with blue eyes and a bright sweet face. Then the little boy
said, “Good morning. Does Santa Claus live here?” And the other little
boy said, “Yes. Come in, come in. I am Santa Claus’ little boy.” He took
him by the hand and said, “I am very glad to see you.”
Then the two little boys walked down the long hallway, doors on this
side and doors on that, until they came to the last door on the
left-hand side. On this door Santa Claus’ little boy knocked, and a
great voice said, “COME IN.” He opened the door and walked in, and who
do you suppose was there? Santa Claus? Yes, there was Santa Claus
himself; a great, big fat man sitting by the fire, with long white
beard, blue eyes and the merriest, cheeriest face you ever saw. Then
Santa Claus’ little boy said, “Father, here is a little boy who has come
to see you.” Santa Claus looked down over his spectacles and said,
“Well, how are you? I am mighty glad to see you. Yes, yes, I know him. I
have been to his house on many a night and filled up his stocking. How
are Elizabeth and Louise and Katherine?” Over on the other side of the
fireplace sat Mrs. Santa Claus. She was a grandmother-looking woman,
with white hair and gold-rimmed spectacles. She was sitting by the fire
knitting; she put her arms around the little boy and kissed him.
Then the two little boys sat down in front of the fire and talked
together. By and by, Santa Claus’ little boy said to the other little
boy, “Don’t you want to go over the building and see what we have in the
different rooms? This building has a thousand rooms.” And the little boy
said, “who-o-o-o-e.” And Santa Claus’ little boy said, “Yes, and
something different in every room.”
Then they went in a large room and what do you suppose was in there?
Nothing but doll babies; some with long dresses and some with short;
some with black eyes and some with blue. Then into another room they
went, and it was full of toys, wagons and horses; another room was full
of story books; another room was a candy kitchen where Santa Claus made
candy; another room was a workshop where Santa Claus made toys for the
children. Then they went in a long, large room, the largest of them all,
and in this room were a great many tables. On these tables were suits,
cloaks and hats and shoes and stockings for the children. The little boy
wanted to know what they did with so many clothes, and Santa Claus’
little boy said, “We take these to the little children who have no
father or mother to make them clothes.” And so they went through all the
rooms of the great building, except one, which was away upstairs in the
corner. What was in this room no one would tell the little boy, nor
would they take him into the room. And the little boy wondered what was
in the room.
The little boy stayed at Santa Claus’ house several days and he had a
splendid time. Some days the two little boys would slide down the hill
on a sled, some days they would hitch up the reindeer and go sleighing,
some days they would go into the candy kitchen and help Santa Claus make
candy, or into the workshop and help him make toys.
But one day something happened. Santa Claus came to the little boy and
said, “I am going away today for a little while; my wife and my little
boy are going with me. Now,” he said, “you can go with us or you can
stay here and keep house for us while we are gone.” The little boy
thought to himself that Santa Claus had been so good to him that he
would stay and keep house while Santa Claus was away. So he said he
would stay and then Santa Claus gave him a great bunch of keys and said,
“Now you can go in all the rooms and play, but you must not go in that
room upstairs in the corner.” The little boy said, “Alright,” and with
that Santa Claus, his wife and his little boy went down the steps, got
into the sleigh, wrapped themselves up in furs, popped the whip and away
they went! The little boy stood and watched them until they disappeared
behind the snow hills.
Then he turned and went back into the house. He felt like a little man
in that great house all by himself. From room to room he went. He went
into the game room and rolled the balls. Some of the balls were so large
that they were as high as the little boy’s head. They were of rubber,
and if you would drop one from the top of the house it would bounce
clear back to the top. The little boy went into the candy kitchen and
ate some of the candy. He went into the workshop and worked on some
toys, then into the library and read some of the books, then into the
parlor and banged on the piano.
But after a while, the little boy was tired, and he said, “I wish Santa
Claus would hurry and come back.” He was lonely. And so he thought he
would go up on the housetop and look out to see if he could see Santa
Claus coming home. Up the steps he went. When he reached the top, there
was another flight. Up these he went and still another flight; up, up,
he went until it seemed he had gone a thousand steps. But, finally, he
came out on top. The little boy stood there with his hands on the
railing and looked out, but all he could see were the snow fields, white
and glistening. Santa Claus was not in sight. He could see the track
over the snow that the sleigh had made, but that was all.
Then down the steps he came, and it just happened that he came by the
room that Santa Claus told him he must not go in. As he passed, he
stopped in front of the door and said to himself, “I wonder what they
have in that room and why they did not want me to go in?” He took hold
of the knob and gave it a turn, but the door was locked. Then he shut
one eye and peeped through the keyhole, but he could see nothing; it was
all dark. Then he put his mouth at the keyhole and blew through it, but
he could hear nothing. Then he put his nose there and smelled, but he
could smell nothing. “I wonder what they have in the room?” he said, “I
believe I will see just for fun which one of these keys will fit in the
lock.” The little boy had in his hand the great bunch of keys. He tried
one key and that would not fit, then he tried another and another and
another, and kept on until he came to the last key. Now, he said to
himself, “If this key does not fit I am going.” He tried it and it was
the only key on the bunch that would fit. “Now,” he said, “I shall not
go into the room, but I will just turn the key and see if it will unlock
the lock. It may fit in the lock and then not unlock the lock.” He
turned the key slowly and the latch went “click,” “click,” and the door
flew wide open. What do you suppose was in the room? It was all dark;
the little boy could see nothing. He had his hand on the knob and it
seemed to him that his hand was caught between the knob and key, and
somehow, as the door opened, it pulled him in. When he stepped into the
room, he felt a breeze blowing and, more than that, as he stepped down,
he found the room did not have any bottom; just a dark hole.
Well, as the little boy stepped over into the room, he felt himself
falling, away down, down, down yonder. He shut his eyes, expecting every
moment to strike something and be killed. But, before he did, some one
caught him by the shoulders and shook him and said, “Wake up!” “Wake
up.” He opened his eyes and where do you suppose the little boy was? At
home. It was Christmas morning and his father was calling him to get up.
The sun was shining across his little bed. He looked towards the
fireplace and there all the stockings were hanging full. The little boy
had been to see Santa Claus, but he went by that beautiful route we call
“DREAMLAND”.
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