"Don’t be so foolish," he said quickly, realising that Dinsler was in a rage and dangerous. "I haven’t come after your gold. Look..."

      "Haven’t you. Well then what brings you into my house in the middle of the night."

      "I’ll tell you what! Look behind you at that stocking. The other children in the village leave their stockings outside their front doors, but you have so frightened your grandchild that she is afraid to ask you for anything. I only wanted to make her feel wanted like other children, and that she should get gifts the same as they do on Christmas morning."

      "Gifts!" exclaimed the old man, bewildered and lowering the poker. "You mean you give things away?" He looked at Nicholas with a very strange look.

      "Yes," replied Nicholas, relieved to see the poker being put away. "I’ll even give you a Christmas gift, you mean old man." He reached inside his deep pocket and poured a stream of bright gold coins onto the table in front of Dinsler. "Here, if gold is all you care about, take this.. and more... and more to add to your hoard! And now," Nicholas said with an air of authority as he brushed some soot from one eye, "Will you please show me to your front door. If I have to climb back up the chimney I’ll never get this suit clean again."

      With that he marched from the room, in some ways a ridiculous stout figure covered in soot, yet he looked very impressive to old Dinsler, as he hurried ahead to open the door for Nicholas to return out into the cold black night.

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11a

Chapter Six

The Red Suit

      Squire Kenson, the richest man in the village, came driving up to Nicholas’ cottage one day with an order for a new chest of drawers. Nicholas was attracted by the sound of silver bells and reindeer hooves on the snow. He looked out of his window and was impressed by the way the squire had arrived in his shiny red sleigh drawn by two beautiful reindeer. Donner and Blitzen were their names because they travelled so swiftly, like thunder and lightning. Nicholas looked at the two beautiful animals and thought how much quicker they would pull him around the village on Christmas eve than his old horse Lufka, who was now getting slower and slower as the years passed by.

      All the time the squire was talking, the woodcarver was gazing admiringly at the fine suit of red deerskin he was wearing. The coat was rather long and belted at the waist, the trousers loose and tucked into shiny black leather leggings. Soft white ermine fur was around the coat at the collar, cuffs and the bottom, with the same beautiful fur around the close-fitting hat. After the squire had left, Nicholas carried on with his work but his mind was on the beautiful red suit.

      "There’s no reason why I can’t have one too," he said to himself. "I’ve been going around dressed like an orphan instead of a wood carver for far too long."

      The very next day Nicholas paid a visit to Widow Arpen, the best dressmaker in the village.

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