Advent elf

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by

Paivi

Stalder


Illustrated

by

Barbara

Korthues

\

FSC


Mixed

Sources

Product

group

from

wod-monogod

foroots

and

othor

controlled

sources


Cert

no

SOS

COC-00706fl

•rwwtocorg

•19M

forest

StowordaWp

Coyne*


Copyright

©

2010

by

NordSiid

Verlag

AG,

CH-8005

Ziirich,

Switzerland.


First

published

in

Switzerland

under

the

title

Niklas

aus

dem

Wichtelland.


English

text

copyright

©

2010

by

North-South

Books

Inc.,

New

York

10001.


Translated

by

NordSiid

Verlag

AG.

Edited

by

Susan

Pearson.

Designed

by

Pamela

Darcy.


All

rights

reserved.


No

part

of

this

book

may

be

reproduced

or

utilized

in

any

form

or

by

any

means,

electronic

or


mechanical,

including

photo-copying,

recording,

or

any

information

storage

and

retrieval

system,


without

permission

in

writing

from

the

publisher.


First

published

in

the

United

States,

Great

Britain,

Canada,

Australia,

and

New

Zealand

in

2010


by

North-South

Books

Inc.,

an

imprint

of

NordSiid

Verlag

AG,

CH-8005

Zurich,

Switzerland.


Distributed

in

the

United

States

by

North-South

Books

Inc.,

New

York

10001.


Library

of

Congress

Cataloging-in-Publication

Data

is

available.


Printed

in

Germany

by

Grafisches

Centrum

Cuno

GmbH

&

Co.

KG,

39240

Calbe,

June

2010.


ISBN:

978-0-7358-2335-8

(trade

edition)


1

3579*

10

8642


www.northsouth.com

by

Paivi

Stalder


Illustrated

by

Barbara

Korthues


NorthSouth


New

York/London

IS

Tu

l

was

six

when

he

found

out

he

had


an

Advent

Elf.

Here’s

how

it

happened.


The

whole

family

was

in

the

living


room—Mom,

Dad,

Paul’s

big

sister,

Mia,


and

their

cat,

Susie.

It

was

the

first

day

of


Advent.

Every

year

they

had

an

Advent


wreath,

and

they

had

lit

the

first

candle


just

that

evening.

uddenly

the

flame

flickered.


“What

was

that?”

said

Paul.


“Just

a

flicker,”

said

Mom.


“Nothing

to

worry

about,”

said

Dad.


“Candles

do

that

sometimes,”

said

Mia.


They

all

went

back

to

what

they

were

doing,

but


Paul

just

sat

there,

staring.

And

that’s

when

he

saw

it.

tiny

elf

was

standing

on

the

wreath

tugging


on

a

bright

red

scarf

that

was

tangled

in

the

pine


needles.

The

little

man

was

pulling

so

hard,

his


face

was

as

red

as

his

scarf.

Carefully,

Paul

reached


over

and

untangled

it.

As

quick

as

a

wink,

the

elf

grabbed

his

scarf

and


hopped

off

the

table.

Susie

meowed,

and

her

eyes


gleamed.

Paul

looked

under

the

table.

The

little

man


was

running

as

fast

as

his

tiny

legs

would

carry


him—under

Dad’s

chair,

behind

the

chest,

out

the


door,

and

down

the

hall,

straight

to

Paul’s

room.

Paul


raced

after

the

elf

into

his

bedroom

and

slammed

the

door.

he

little

man

wasn’t

under

Paul’s

bed.

Or

in

his


toy

boat.

Or

hidden

behind

his

stuffed

elephant.


There

was

nothing,

not

even

a

red

scarf,

to

be

seen.


Then

a

small

voice

said,

“Can

you

help

me?”


There

he

was,

on

top

of

the

comforter.


“I

said,

‘Can

you

help

me?”’

said

the

elf

a

little

louder.


“Help

you

how?”

Paul

asked.


“Help

me

get

home,

of

course,”

said

the

elf.

“I’m


not

supposed

to

be

here.”

«


W

ho

are

you?”

asked

Paul.


“Arty’s

the

name,”

said

the

little

man,


sliding

down

the

comforter.

“Short

for

Artimus.


I’m

your

Advent

Elf.”


“My

what?”

said

Paul.

A

|dvent

Elf,”

Arty

repeated.

“Em

supposed

to


watch

over

you

during

Advent.

Keep

you

out


of

trouble.

Find

presents

to

put

in

your

Advent


calendar.

That

sort

of

thing.”


“Looks

like

you

need

someone

to

watch


over

you”

said

Paul.


“I’m

still

in

training,”

said

Arty.

“I

just


got

started

when

I

fell

out

of

your

wreath.


I

need

to

get

back.”

Arty

stopped

in

his

tracks

and

stamped

his

foot.


Well,

how

am

I

going

to

get

back

then?”

he

demanded


This

is

all

your

fault.”


B

efore

Paul

could

say

a

word,

Arty

leaped

off

the


bed

and

dashed

to

the

door.


“WAIT!”

shouted

Paul.

“My

cat

is

out

there!


Susie

will

gobble

you

up,

just

like

a

mouse!”

ow

is

it

my

fault?”

Paul

asked.


“It’s

your

Advent

wreath,

isn’t

it,”

said

Arty.


“So

you

have

to

get

me

home.”


Paul

sighed.

How

on

earth

was

he

going

to


get

an

elf

back

to

elf

land?

Then

suddenly

he

had


an

idea!

He

grabbed

his

Big

Book

of

Gnomes

and


Goblins

and

opened

it

to

the

middle.


“You

could

jump

in

here,”

he

suggested.


Arty

snorted.

“Don’t

be

ridiculous!

I’m

an

elf


not

a

gnome.

And

certainly

not

a

goblin.”


was

“Wh

hat

if

I

build

you

a

paper

airplane

and

you

fly

back?”


Paul

suggested.


“I

might

just

as

easily

sail

this

boat

out

the

window,”


said

Arty.

“And

besides,

it’s

cold

out

there.”

He

scratched


his

head.

“I

need

to

get

back

to

the

Advent

wreath.

That’s


how

I

got

here,

and

that’s

how

I’ll

get

back.”


“But,

Susie

.

.

.

,”

said

Paul.


“I

need

a

disguise,”

said

Arty.


“Bear!”

Paul

shouted.

“I

could

hide

you

in

my

teddy

bear!”

o

Arty

snuggled

between

Bears

fuzzy

arms,

and


Paul

carried

him

back

to

the

Advent

wreath.

Arty


jumped

off

and

into

the

wreath.

The

candle

fizzled


and

flickered

and

then

went

out.

7
!


I!

-j

i


“That’s

certainly

a

flickery

candle,”

said

Mom,

looking


over

at

the

wreath.


But

by

then

Arty

was

nowhere

to

be

seen.

»*


hat

night

Paul’s

dreams

were

full

of

elves.


When

he

woke

in

the

morning,

he

wondered

if


he

had

really

seen

Arty

at

all.

Had

the

tiny

Advent


elf

been

only

a

dream?

Probably,

he

thought

as


he

climbed

out

of

bed.


And

that’s

when

he

saw,

nestled

among

his


toys,

a

tiny

red

scarf.


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On

the

first

night

of

Advent,

a

little

man

jumped

out

of


the

Advent

wreath

demanding

that

Paul

get

him

home


again.

But

how?

By

paper

airplane?

Through

the

pages

of


his

Big

Book

of

Gnomes

and

Goblins
?

Paul

has

a

problem!


And

when

it’s

all

over,

he

has

to

wonder:

Did

an

elf

really


visit

him

last

night,

or

was

it

only

a

dream?


OCTOBER

2,010


780735

r

r

f*

823358

9780735823358


11
/
20/2015

13

65-3
X