As soon as they climbed on, Mother Goose was in the elf's pointy ear. "We've GOT to stop that devil once and for all! He's ruining every story and verse in Fantasy.
"Don't worry.” The elf giggled. "He's gone someplace that can never be 'ruined'.”
It was twilight when the North Pole came into view, twinkling like gemstones sprinkled on the snowy carpet below them. Upon landing, Santa dashed out of his shop to welcome them. While the elf returned Rudolph to the Reindeer stables, Santa led his guests past the Toyland. Through frosted windows, scores of elves could be seen, all occupied making children's wishes come true.
“This way,” said Santa. “What you're looking for is at the House.”
As soon as they entered, the scent of fresh-baked gingerbread filled their senses. In the foyer, cider and cinnamon crisps, saucers of candy canes and peppermint goodies welcomed any who might happen in.
Gander lingered behind gobbling up samples, while the others stepped into the parlor.
“Shhh!,” Santa whispered. “Mama is reading a bedtime story to the little one.” Inside, by the hearth, Mrs Claus sat comfortably in a pillowed rocker reading Nursery Rhymes to an adorable, sleepy-eyed child, bundled in her lap.
Mother Goose's face lit with glee. “That's my Book!”
Santa beamed too. “And that's your Beezle!”
“Land . . . SAKES!” Mother Goose made some faces and nearly shook her head right off before scooting over to the rocker for a closer look. Mrs. Claus offered up a sugary smile and uncovered her little 'bundle'. It was the most angelic fellow Mother Goose had ever seen . . . even with two stubby horns on top of his head. “That IS Beezle, sure enough . . . He doesn't seem so naughty when he's sleeping.”
“Poor dear is worn to a frazzle,” Mrs. Claus said softly.
“He's been bringing stuff here all week long.” Santa directed his visitors into the next room where a fully trimmed Christmas Tree filled the room with splashes of warm colors. And underneath it, what do you think they saw?