Santa with
the measles
50
disappeared into the kitchen.
I turned my attention to Santa. “But,
Santa, why? Why did you bring me here?”
I squeaked.
Santa sighed. “Well, Geronimo, I seem to be
in a little bit of a pickle. I won’t be able to
deliver the Christmas toys this year,” he said.
I gasped. What? That was impossible!
I looked closely at Santa. Were his legs
broken? Was he having a bad hair day? That’s
when I noticed his face. It was covered with
tiny red spots!
“Yikes!” I cried.
Santa nodded. “I see you’ve
noticed my little problem,”
he said. “Yes, Geronimo,
I’ve come down with the
measles
right on
my busiest night of the year!”
51
This was awful. Santa
and the elves had worked
all year making toys for
children. And now they
wouldn’t be able to deliver them.
A tear fell from Santa’s eye and landed
in his fluffy white beard. “This is why I
need your help, Geronimo. I cannot break
my PROMISE to the children. Will you
deliver the TOYS?” he asked.
Me? Deliver toys? I had trouble scampering
and chewing gum at the same time.
“Why me, Santa?” I squeaked.
He smiled. “Because I have read every one
of your books, dear Geronimo, and you have
been on so many crazy adventures, this one
will be a piece of cake!” he explained.
I was a nervous wreck. How could I, a
newspaper mouse, take over Santa’s job? It
52
was such an enormouse responsibility.
“But what if I mess up? What if the reindeer
make fun of me?” I squeaked.
Mrs. Claus put her arm around me. “Of
course you can do it, Geronimo. You just
have to believe in yourself,” she said.
For some reason, that made me feel a little
better. Maybe delivering the toys wouldn’t
be so hard after all. “I’ll do it!” I decided.
Santa and Mrs. Claus beamed. Then Santa
wrote something on a piece of paper. He
rolled it up, and handed it to me. Then he
closed his EYES and went right to sleep.
“ZZZzzzz . . . Finally I can . . . zzzzzzz
. . . rest . . . zzzzz!” he snored.
H
a
h
a
h
a
!
h
a
h
a
!
Ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha!
H
a
h
!
53
On my way out, Ding-Dong came
running up to me. “So, Mousey, what did
Santa tell you?” he asked.
I sighed. “Santa has the
measles
.
He asked me to help him distribute all the
TOYS
to children around the world,”
I said.
The elf turned blue, then
purple
, then
green
with envy.
“WHAT?!” he shrieked.
“He asked YOU, a
MOUSE, to help him?
I don’t believe it!”
To prove my point, I
unrolled the paper.
W
H
A
T
?
!
WHAT AM I?
C
HOPPED LIVER?!
54
When Ding-Dong finished reading, he
looked like he was about to explode. “This is
so unfair! Why did he ask you to help him?
What am I? Chopped liver?!” he fumed.
“This is all because I got a few speeding
tickets. What’s the big deal?”
I decided not to mention that doing
somersaults with the sleigh probably didn’t
help, either. I felt sort of sorry for the little elf.
“Well, I guess you need to know how to
I , Santa Claus, do hereby
ask Mr. Geronimo Stilton
to manage the workshop
while I am ill and to deliver
the Christmas toys to
children around the world.
Santa Claus
I
t
s
a
i
d
:
55
“Follow me. I’ll probably have to tell you
how EVERYTHING works, too.”
I nodded. “Ahem, well yes, thank you.
To be honest, I don’t know anything about
making
TOYS
at all,” I confessed.
Ding-Dong rolled his eyes. “I kind of
guessed it. Imagine a magazine mouse
running Santa’s toy factory! What
do you know about toys? All you
know about is your silly little
magazine!” he complained.
I wanted to point out that The
Rodent’s Gazette was a newspaper, but I
figured that now wasn’t the time. Ding-Dong
was already in a jealous rage. There was no
telling what he might do next! Throw a fit.
Throw a TANTRUM. Throw a large, skull-
crushing stone. Instead, I followed him
quietly into a huge log warehouse.
That is, I tried to follow him, but he
slammed the door in my snout. “Youch!”
I screamed.
He snickered. “Oops, sorry, Mousey.”
I practiced my deep yoga breathing. Stay
calm, I told myself. No use getting worked
up over a jealous elf. Still, I had to admit,
Ding-Dong was really starting to get under
my fur.
Y
o
u
c
h
!
SANTA’S
WORKSHOP
57
INSIDE SANTA’S
W
ORKSHOP
Massaging my snout, I stumbled into
Santa’s WORKSHOP. What
an amazing place! The sound of whirring
and buzzing machines filled
the air. Elves bustled about here
and there, making dolls and
baby blocks, toy trains
and tracks, baseball
bats and balls, and
soft,
CUDDLY TEDDY
BEARS
. Some
tapped away at
computer keyboards,
programming the
latest
VIDEO
games.
F
A
I
R
Y
T
A
L
E
S
60
Others were busy painting
smiling
faces on dolls in
all different sizes, shapes, and
colors.
There were so many things to
look at I didn’t know what to
check out first. Then I noticed
a small printing press. It was
churning out a stack
of children’s
books.How perfect! I mean,
what better gift is there than a
book?
Just then, an elf working the
printing press noticed me. “Hey,
everybody, it’s Geronimo Stilton!
He’s come to help Santa!” he
shouted.
“Three cheers for Geronimo
Stilton!” another elf added. The
F
A
I
R
Y
T
A
L
E
S
room erupted in cheers.
I felt so welcomed. I felt so honored. I felt
so much pain. I looked down.
Ding-Dong had just dropped a HEAVY
wooden box right on my paw. I let out a yelp.
“Cheese niblets!”
“Oops, so sorry, Mousey.” Ding-Dong
smirked.
Stay calm, I told myself as I gnashed my
teeth.
A
h
i
a
a
a
a
a
a
!
C
h
e
e
s
e
n
i
b
l
e
t
s
!
The elves helped me load all of the gifts
onto the sleigh. Then one of them handed me
a looong list of names and addresses.
I was just glancing over them when Ding-
Dong backed the sled up, right over my tail.
“Yikes!” I cried.
The elf giggled under his breath. “Oops,
so sorry, Mousey,” he murmured.
STOP THE CLOCK
A
h
i
a
a
a
a
a
a
!
Y
i
k
e
s
!
63
Stay calm, I told myself as I twisted my
throbbing tail up in knots.
The sled was packed. The reindeer were in
place. Everything was ready. There was just
one thing I had to ask before I left.
“How am I ever going to deliver all of
these gifts in just one NIGHT? There are
millions of kids all over the world!” I cried,
worried. I pictured the headlines the day
after Christmas: SANTA IS A NO-SHOW IN
GREECE!NO TOYS FOR TOTS IN NORTH
AMERICA!
But Mrs. Claus just smiled. “Don’t worry,
Geronimo,” she said. “Tonight is a magical
night. Time will stop only for you. That way,
you will be able to give out all of the gifts.”
Cheesecake! I was impressed. If I could
make time stop, I’d get all of my work done
on time. I’d make it to Benjamin’s play.
64
Maybe I’d even be the first mouse in line at
Cheesy Doughnuts on Sunday mornings.
I was still thinking about cheesy doughnuts
as I waved good-bye to Santa and Mrs. Claus.
“Have a nice trip, Geronimo!” the elves
called. Well, except for Ding-Dong. I’m
pretty sure he stuck his tongue out at me.
Two minutes later, we took off into the
sky. The reindeer SOARED through the
clouds. A sense of peace and calm fell over
me. The reindeer knew exactly where to go.
We stopped in every city, large and small.
We stopped on islands and in tiny villages.
It was an amazing ride! As I dropped off
the gifts in each place, I pictured the faces
of the happy children opening them the
next day.
Christmas truly was a MAGICAL
holiday!
66
NOT JUST ANY
O
LD ELF
Finally, I delivered the LAST gift.
It was for a little girl named Zoe in
a small village in Africa. I wished I
could stay and learn more about the
people who lived there. But I had to
67
get the sled back to the North Pole. And
besides, how would I explain why a mouse
was dressed up in a Santa suit?
The reindeer headed back to Santa’s
workshop. I was glad. My tummy had been
rumbling for a while now. I couldn’t wait for
one of Mrs. Claus’s delicious cheddar logs.
As we drew closer to the toy factory, I
noticed an elf in the middle of the snow. And
not just any old elf. It was Ding-Dong. He
was sitting all alone by a
FROZEN
lake,
staring into the night.
“Hey, Ding-Dong!” I called. “Hop in. I’ll
give you a ride back to the village.”
The elf looked up at me and rolled
his eyes. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Big Shot
Magazine Mouse
,” he snorted. “Don’t
you have more presents to deliver?” He
stormed out onto the frozen lake and started
Hang on!
Heeeeeelp!
69
twirling around. “Look at me!” he yelled.
“I’m Santa Mouse. Squeak! Squeak!”
Suddenly, there was loud CRACK! I
stared in horror as the ice split open.
“Watch out!” I squeaked. It was too late.
Within seconds, Ding-Dong had vanished
beneath the icy waters of the frozen lake.
Without thinking, I scampered out
after him. My paws made the ice creak
NOISILY beneath me. I was a nervous
wreck. What if I couldn’t save Ding-Dong?
I lay down on the ice and slid toward
the elf. I could just make out his tiny hand
waving desperately in the air.
“Help!” he cried in a shaky voice.
Quickly, I took off my belt and threw it
toward him. "Grab the other end!”
Ding-Dong grabbed the belt. Very slowly, I
managed to pull him out of the freezing
water. I wrapped him up in my warm
red
jacket. Then I brought him back to the
village.
Santa and Mrs. Claus were shocked to see
what had happened to Ding-Dong. Mrs. Claus
made him lie on the sofa. She gave him a cup
of warm milk with lots of honey.
After he warmed up, Ding-Dong threw
me a shy smile. “Guess you’re not such
a bad mouse after all, Geronimo,”
he said. Then he jumped up and shook
my paw.
I grinned. Ding-Dong wasn’t big on words.
But I knew he
was grateful that
I had saved
his life.
Friends!
Friends!
71
I was feeling warm and happy. What a
night! I sat by the fire with
Santa
and Mrs.
Claus, chatting away, munching on treats,
and drinking cups of hot chocolate.
Mrs. Claus’s cheddar logs really are out of
this world!
“How can I ever thank you for all that you
have done, Geronimo?” Santa asked.
&
nbsp; I shook my head. “Mmmfl, mmmmfll,” I
mumbled, my mouth full of cheese.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” He chuckled. “I
thought you might not ask for anything in
return. You’re a real gentlemouse, Geronimo
Stilton.” He laughed. “But I want to give you
a gift anyway.”
CHEDDAR LOGS
FOR EVERYONE
I wondered what Santa would give me.
A new suit? A tie? A box of chocolate
Cheesy Chews? My mouth began to water
just thinking about it.
But instead of a wrapped gift, Santa pulled
out a stack of letters. He explained that the
letters were from children all over the
world. “Every year, I get letters from children
asking for dolls and teddy bears, race cars
and bicycles. But once in a while, I get a letter
from a child asking for something I cannot
make,” he said. “It makes me very sad. But
this year, I think you can help me with one of
those letters, Geronimo.”
He flipped through the envelopes and
handed me a tiny sheet of paper. I couldn’t
believe my eyes. It was a letter from my
favorite nephew, Benjamin:
My heart dropped. “But I love my nephew
with all my heart!” I protested. “I always
make time for him.”
Just then, Santa pulled out a tiny black
book. “According to my notes, Geronimo,
the last time you played with your nephew
Benjamin was exactly ONE month and
TWELVE days ago,” he said quietly.
Yikes! How
embarrassing
. How
MORTIFYING
. How true! My fur turned
beet-red. I hadn’t been spending much time
at all with Benjamin lately. I was so busy
with WORK I had forgotten him.
“The real spirit of Christmas isn’t just about
spending money on gifts, dear Geronimo,”
Santa said. “It’s about spending time
with the ones we love.”
I nodded. Santa was right. Even though
it made me sad, I was glad he had shown
74
75
me Benjamin’s letter. I would never want