Chapter Twelve

Nicholas Sleeps

      Holly was no longer little Holly, but a lovely slender young girl who led a happy life, her childish terrors long forgotten. She still continued the practice of bringing flowers to her old friend and every Christmas Eve she would go into the dark forest to gather holly to decorate his cottage on Christmas morning.

      It was almost noon, and as she approached the cottage she noticed how silent and empty it looked without Nicholas bending over his work and no smoke coming from the chimney.

      She stole silently into the cold little cottage and quietly opened the door to his bedroom.

      “Why the darling was so tired he fell asleep with his clothes on,” she murmured tenderly. For the fat round figure lay there, still dressed in the bright red suit with the white fur, the shiny black boots and the close fitting cap.

      “Here’s your holly,” whispered the girl, bending over Nicholas.

      Then with a startled exclamation she dropped the red berries over the still figure and sprang back frightened. It was a few moments before Holly realised what must have happened and as she edged back close to him she sobbed, “Poor Nicholas. Why did you have to die? We all loved you so much.” She gently arranged the holly around his bed then ran out into the snow and with tears running down her face called loudly for the villagers.

      They gathered in little groups to listen to her story. The women murmured in broken tones between sobs, “He’s dead!” and clasped their wondering little children closer, as if to comfort them for the loss of their dearest friend. The men looked everywhere except into each other’s eyes, for no man wanted to see the tears that were there. “Yes he’s dead,” they all sighed deeply.

      “Who’s dead mother? Is it Nicholas?” asked the children.

      “Won’t he come to visit us any more on Christmas Eve?”

      And the parents had to turn away from the wide childish eyes because they didn’t want to say that awful sentence, “Yes, Nicholas is dead.”

      The bells tolled and the village was in darkness that Christmas night. Vixen and his family whimpered in their stalls and holly glowed red over the still, loving heart in a red suit.

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