Free Stanley's Christmas Adventure by Jeff Brown Page A

door, and then Stanley’s voice. “Hey! Can I come in?”
    Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop cared greatly for proper speech. “Hay is for horses, Stanley,” she said. “And not ‘can,’ dear. You
may
come in.”
    Stanley came in.
    “What is the explanation, my boy, of this late call?” said Mr. Lambchop, remembering past surprises. “You have not, I see, become flat again. Has a genie come to visit? Or perhaps the President of the United States has called?”
    Mrs. Lambchop smiled. “You are very amusing, George.”
    “Arthur and I were in bed,” said Stanley. “But we heard a noise and went to see. It was a girl called Sarah Christmas, from Snow City. She talks a lot. She says her father says he won’t come this year, but Sarah thinks he might change his mind if I ask him to. Because I wrote him a letter once that he liked. She wants me to go with her to Snow City. In her father’s sleigh. It’s at the North Pole, I think.” Stanley caught his breath. “I said I’d have to ask you first.”
    “Quite right,” said Mrs. Lambchop.
    Mr. Lambchop went to the bathroom and drank a glass of water to calm himself.
    “Now then, Stanley,” he said, returning. “You have greatly startled us. Surely—”
    “Put on your robe, George,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “Let us hear for ourselves what this visitor has to say.”
    “This is
delicious
!” Sarah Christmas sipped the hot chocolate Mrs. Lambchop had served them all. “My mother makes it too, with cinnamon in it. And little cookies with—” Her glance had fallen on the mantelpiece. “What’s
that
, pinned up there?”
    “Christmas stockings,” Stanley said. “The blue one’s mine.”
    “But the other, the great square thing?”
    “It’s a pillowcase.” Arthur blushed.

    “My stocking wouldn’t do. I have very small feet.”
    “Pooh!” Sarah laughed. “You wanted extra gifts, so—”
    “Sarah, dear,” Mrs. Lambchop said. “Your father? Has he truly made up his mind, you think?”
    “Oh, yes!” Sarah sighed. “But I thought—Stanley being flat, that
really
interested him. I mean, I couldn’t be
sure
, but if nobody ever did anything without—”
    “You seem a very nice girl, Sarah.” Mr. Lambchop gave a little laugh. “But you
have
been joking with us, surely? I—”
    The phone rang, and he answered it.
    “Hello, George,” the caller said. “This is your neighbor, Frank Smith. I know it’s late, but I must congratulate you on your Christmas lawn display! Best—”
    “Lawn?” said Mr. Lambchop. “Display?”
    “The sleigh! And those lifelike
reindeer!
What makes them move about like that? Batteries, I suppose?”

    “Just a moment, Frank.” Mr. Lambchop went to the window and looked out, Mrs. Lambchop beside him.
    “My goodness!” she said. “One, two, three, four … Eight! And such a pretty sleigh!”
    Mr. Lambchop returned to the phone. “They
are
lifelike, aren’t they? Goodbye. Thank you for calling, Frank.”
    “See? I’m not a joking kind of person, actually,” said Sarah Christmas. “Now! My idea
might
work, even without the flatness. Do let Stanley go!”
    “To the North Pole?” said Mrs. Lambchop. “At night? By himself? Good gracious, Sarah!”
    “It’s not fair, asking Stanley, but not me,” said Arthur, feeling hurt. “It’s always like this! I never—”
    “Oh, pooh!” Sarah Christmas smiled. “Actually … You could
all
go. It’s a very big sleigh.”
    Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop looked at each other, then at Stanley and Arthur, then at each other again.
    “Stanley just might make a difference, George,” Mrs. Lambchop said. “And if we can
all
go … ?”
    “Quite right,” said Mr. Lambchop. “Sarah, we will accompany you to Snow City!”
    “Hooray!” shouted Stanley and Arthur, and Sarah too.
    Mrs. Lambchop thought they should wait until Frank Smith had gone to bed. “Imagine the gossip,” she said, “were he to see our reindeer fly away.”
    Mr. Lambchop called his office to leave a message