in his brain. ‘It’s the real Santa! He must have come right through the roof — or the wall! He didn’t even open the door!’
Santa put down his bag and searched inside.
‘Where is it?’ Santa mumbled.
Santa was still searching when he saw the bright flash of the Trifles’ camera. He turned and looked at Selby.
‘You took my picture,’ he said.
‘I-I just wanted to prove that you’re real,’ Selby stammered.
‘Oh, I’m real all right,’ Santa said,‘and I guess you must be too, unless you’re one of those clever talking toys.’
‘No, I’m not a toy.’
‘Well, fancy that,’ Santa said with a chuckle. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. What a wonderful pet you must be. Your owners can even talk to you.’
‘Well, actually,’ Selby said, ‘they don’t know I can talk.’
‘Really? Why not?’
‘I’m keeping it a secret. I don’t want the Trifles to put me to work.’
‘Work?’ Santa said. ‘What’s wrong with a little work? Work’s good for you.’
‘Yeah, that’s okay for you to say because you only work one night a year. You’ve got those little guys doing most of the work.’
‘I’ve never thought about it like that,’ Santa admitted. ‘You’ve got a point.’
‘With me, it’s not just the work,’ Selby said. ‘If people find out that I can talk, they’ll drive me nuts. They’ll be coming around here takingphotos of me and wanting to talk to me. And, besides, they might send me off to a laboratory to be asked silly questions by scientists all day. And someone might dog-nap me and hold me for ransom.’
‘It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.’
‘Ever since I learned to talk.’
‘As for me,’ Santa said,‘I like to keep everyone guessing. Wouldn’t it be boring if everyone knew I was real? May I see the camera?’
Selby handed him the camera.
‘Good photo,’ Santa said. ‘It looks just like me. I think this is the camera I gave to Mrs Trifle last year.’
He handed the camera back to Selby.
‘I thought you were going to delete it,’ Selby said.
‘Heavens no. It’s your photo and you can keep it,’ Santa said, looking through his bag again. ‘I can’t seem to find your present.’
‘A present for me? You’ve actually got one?’
‘Well, I thought I did, but it looks like I’ve got the wrong bag. These aren’t Bogusvillepresents at all. I’ll have to go back and get the right one. This is happening more and more these days. Something is seriously wrong.’
‘You mean you’ve got to go all the way back to the North Pole just to get another bag?’
‘That’s right. Do you want to come?’
‘Me? Really? Can I?’
As soon as Santa and Selby got into the sleigh, the reindeer took off, pulling them so fast that the world was a blur. In less than a second, they landed at the North Pole.
‘So that’s how he does it!’ Selby thought. ‘His reindeer go faster than lightning! It takes no time at all to go back and forth.’
Santa led Selby down a snow tunnel and into his huge workshop.
‘The elves!’ Selby said. ‘Look at them all!’
The workshop was full of elves and machinery and noise. Steam was rising and computers hummed.
‘Yes, and they’re good little workers,’ Santa said, patting a couple of them on the back.
The elves didn’t look up. They were all working as fast as they could.
‘They don’t look happy,’ Selby said.
‘Really? No, I’m sure they’re happy. They just love the thought of making little kids happy. That makes them happy, too.’
Some of the elves nearby looked up for a moment before going back to work. They didn’t look happy at all.
‘You gave me the wrong bag,’ Santa said to one of his helpers. ‘I went to Bogusville in Australia and you gave me the bag for
Bogenfeld
in Austria.’
The elf checked the label on the bag and then, without a word, whipped it away, changing it for another bag.
‘Thanks,’ Santa said. ‘Okay, everybody
Santa put down his bag and searched inside.
‘Where is it?’ Santa mumbled.
Santa was still searching when he saw the bright flash of the Trifles’ camera. He turned and looked at Selby.
‘You took my picture,’ he said.
‘I-I just wanted to prove that you’re real,’ Selby stammered.
‘Oh, I’m real all right,’ Santa said,‘and I guess you must be too, unless you’re one of those clever talking toys.’
‘No, I’m not a toy.’
‘Well, fancy that,’ Santa said with a chuckle. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. What a wonderful pet you must be. Your owners can even talk to you.’
‘Well, actually,’ Selby said, ‘they don’t know I can talk.’
‘Really? Why not?’
‘I’m keeping it a secret. I don’t want the Trifles to put me to work.’
‘Work?’ Santa said. ‘What’s wrong with a little work? Work’s good for you.’
‘Yeah, that’s okay for you to say because you only work one night a year. You’ve got those little guys doing most of the work.’
‘I’ve never thought about it like that,’ Santa admitted. ‘You’ve got a point.’
‘With me, it’s not just the work,’ Selby said. ‘If people find out that I can talk, they’ll drive me nuts. They’ll be coming around here takingphotos of me and wanting to talk to me. And, besides, they might send me off to a laboratory to be asked silly questions by scientists all day. And someone might dog-nap me and hold me for ransom.’
‘It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.’
‘Ever since I learned to talk.’
‘As for me,’ Santa said,‘I like to keep everyone guessing. Wouldn’t it be boring if everyone knew I was real? May I see the camera?’
Selby handed him the camera.
‘Good photo,’ Santa said. ‘It looks just like me. I think this is the camera I gave to Mrs Trifle last year.’
He handed the camera back to Selby.
‘I thought you were going to delete it,’ Selby said.
‘Heavens no. It’s your photo and you can keep it,’ Santa said, looking through his bag again. ‘I can’t seem to find your present.’
‘A present for me? You’ve actually got one?’
‘Well, I thought I did, but it looks like I’ve got the wrong bag. These aren’t Bogusvillepresents at all. I’ll have to go back and get the right one. This is happening more and more these days. Something is seriously wrong.’
‘You mean you’ve got to go all the way back to the North Pole just to get another bag?’
‘That’s right. Do you want to come?’
‘Me? Really? Can I?’
As soon as Santa and Selby got into the sleigh, the reindeer took off, pulling them so fast that the world was a blur. In less than a second, they landed at the North Pole.
‘So that’s how he does it!’ Selby thought. ‘His reindeer go faster than lightning! It takes no time at all to go back and forth.’
Santa led Selby down a snow tunnel and into his huge workshop.
‘The elves!’ Selby said. ‘Look at them all!’
The workshop was full of elves and machinery and noise. Steam was rising and computers hummed.
‘Yes, and they’re good little workers,’ Santa said, patting a couple of them on the back.
The elves didn’t look up. They were all working as fast as they could.
‘They don’t look happy,’ Selby said.
‘Really? No, I’m sure they’re happy. They just love the thought of making little kids happy. That makes them happy, too.’
Some of the elves nearby looked up for a moment before going back to work. They didn’t look happy at all.
‘You gave me the wrong bag,’ Santa said to one of his helpers. ‘I went to Bogusville in Australia and you gave me the bag for
Bogenfeld
in Austria.’
The elf checked the label on the bag and then, without a word, whipped it away, changing it for another bag.
‘Thanks,’ Santa said. ‘Okay, everybody
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