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    The Christmas Toy Factory


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      Dear mouse friends,

      Welcome to the world of

      THE RODENT’S GAZETTE

      EDITORIAL STAFF

      Geronimo Stilton

      A learned and brainy

      mouse; editor of

      The Rodent’s Gazette

      Thea Stilton

      Geronimo’s sister and

      special correspondent at

      The Rodent’s Gazette

      Trap Stilton

      An awful joker;

      Geronimo’s cousin and

      owner of the store

      Cheap Junk for Less

      Benjamin Stilton

      Asweet and loving

      nine-year-old mouse;

      Geronimo’s favorite

      nephew

      New York Toronto London Auckland Sydney

      Mexico City New Delhi Hong Kong Buenos Aires

      Scholastic Inc.

      THE CHRISTMAS

      TOY FACTORY

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright

      Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted,

      downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced

      into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by

      any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter

      invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For

      information regarding permission, please contact Atlantyca S.p.A.,

      Via Leopardi 8, 20123 Milan, Italy; e-mail foreignrights@atlantyca.it,

      www.atlantyca.com.

      eISBN 978-0-545-39239-6

      Copyright © 2006 by Edizioni Piemme S.p.A., Corso Como 15, 20154

      Milan, Italy.

      International Rights © Atlantyca S.p.A.

      English translation © 2006 by Atlantyca S.p.A.

      GERONIMO STILTON names, characters, and related indicia are

      copyright, trademark, and exclusive license of Atlantyca S.p.A. All rights

      reserved. The moral right of the author has been asserted.

      Based on an original idea by Elisabetta Dami.

      www.geronimostilton.com

      Published by Scholastic Inc., 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

      SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered

      trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

      Stilton is the name of a famous English cheese. It is a registered trademark

      of the Stilton Cheese Makers’ Association. For more information, go to

      www.stiltoncheese.com.

      Text by Geronimo Stilton

      Original title Il mistero degli elfi

      Cover by Giuseppe Ferrario

      Illustrations by Danilo Barozzi, Silvia Bigolin, and Frencesco Castelli,

      Christian Aliprandi (coloring), Archivio Piemme (maps)

      Graphics by Merenguita Gingermouse, Michela Battaglin, and Yuko Egusa

      Special thanks to Kathryn Cristaldi

      Translated by Lidia Morson Tramontozzi

      Interior design by Kay Petronio

      First printing, October 2006

      1

      It was a cold — I mean, freezing — I mean,

      teeth-chattering

      December

      morning. Snow

      covered New Mouse City, and I was trudging

      through it on my way to work. Brrr! My

      paws felt like two blocks of ice.

      I finally got to the office and . . . Oops, silly

      TWO BLOCKS OF ICE

      R

      O

      D

      E

      N

      T

      ’

      S

      G

      A

      Z

      E

      T

      T

      E

      T

      H

      E

      MERRY

      CHRISTMAS

      me! I forgot to introduce myself. My name

      is Stilton, Geronimo Stilton. I am the

      publisher of The Rodent’s Gazette, the most

      famouse newspaper on Mouse Island.

      As I was saying, I got to the office and sat

      down at my desk. But before I could start

      working, a plump, furry mouse burst

      through the door. It was my grandfather,

      William Shortpaws, also known as

      Cheap Mouse Willy. Rats!

      Don’t get me wrong, I love my grandfather.

      But for the past month, he has been driving

      me up a clock!

      Grandfather is the founder

      of The Rodent’s Gazette. He

      started it a long, long time

      ago. He doesn’t work here

      anymore. Lately, he’s into

      golf. But he still loves to

      4

      6

      stop by the office and check up on things.

      Grandfather is one TOUGH, no-

      nonsense rodent. His favorite saying is:

      ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES A MOUSE RICH,

      RICH, RICH!

      Before I could even squeak, “Hello,”

      Grandfather William began thumping his

      paw on my messy desk. A stack of papers

      crashed to the floor. “Grandson, this desk is

      a disgrace! Have you been working or eating

      cheese bonbons? Remember, I built this

      company with my own bare paws. If you’re

      not careful, I’m going to come back and

      you’ll only be in charge of the water cooler!”

      he thundered, snapping my whiskers.

      I gulped.

      My

      worst nightmare is

      my grandfather coming back to head The

      Rodent’s Gazette. And lately, I was afraid he

      might do just that!

      7

      “I’m doing my best," I squeaked meekly.

      Grandfather rolled his eyes. “Tell it to the

      paw!” He smirked, holding one paw toward

      me. Then he pulled my whiskers again. And

      stormed out.

      I got right to work. What else could I do?

      I was worried. And besides, I don’t know a

      thing about water coolers.

      B

      o

      i

      n

      g

      !

      B

      o

      i

      n

      g

      !

      B

      o

      i

      n

      g

      !

      8

      It snowed every day for a whole

      week. I had to put snowshoes on my paws

      just to get to work! I would have loved to call

      in sick, but I couldn’t. What if Grandfather

      William found out? I’d be out of a job faster

      than you could say “egg and cheese on a

      cream-cheese bagel.” Instead, I got up every

      day at the crack of dawn and dragged myself

      to the office. There I read manuscripts, signed

      checks, and researched stories. I was so busy

      I DREAMED I WAS

      S

      LEEPING

      9

      I never even took a lunch break.

      I just nibbled on some stale

      cheddar crackers that I kept in

      a bowl on my desk.

      Finally, at midnight, I’d head

      home. I was so tired I’d fall into

      my bed and start snoring before

      my snout even hit the pillow. I

      dreamed I was sleeping.

      The days flew
    by. I was

      exhausted! But I had to keep

      working. I couldn’t

      let Grandfather William take

      over the newspaper. I loved

      my job. Too bad it was taking

      over my life!

      I got up at

      dawn...

      ... worked until

      midnight...

      ... and fell into

      bed, asleep!

      Snore!

      On the morning of December 24, something

      AWFUL happened. I was at my office reading

      some mail that had piled up on my desk. I

      came across a letter from my dear, sweet

      nephew Benjamin.

      When I read it, I

      nearly jumped out

      of my fur. It was

      an invitation to his

      Christmas play. I

      twisted my tail up

      in a

      knot

      .

      “December 24!” I

      squeaked. “Moldy

      Dear Uncle Geronimo,

      Can you please, please, please

      come to my school’s Christmas

      play on December 24

      at 9:00

      A

      .

      M

      .?

      Can’t wait to see you!

      Love, Benjamin

      UNCLE GERONIMO,

      W

      HY DIDN’T

      Y

      OU COME?

      10

      mozzarella balls, that’s today!” I was so busy

      with work that I had completely forgotten.

      I ran to Benjamin’s school as fast as my

      paws could carry me. But it was no use.

      When I got there, the play was already over.

      Principal Sharp Whiskers shook his head

      when he saw me. “Mr. Stilton, why are you so

      late? Your nephew is crushed,” he scolded.

      Just then, I noticed a little mouse sitting

      all alone on the stage. It was Benjamin. He

      looked at me sadly.

      12

      “Uncle Geronimo, why didn’t you come?

      You always come to my Christmas play.

      And this year I had the best part. I was one

      of the fur trees,” he said.

      I felt awful. How could I have let my

      favorite nephew down? I grabbed his paw.

      “Come on, I’m going to buy you an early

      Christmas present,” I said, smiling.

      I took him to the best toy store in

      town, THE ROLLICKING

      RODENT

      . Have you ever been there?

      The place is huge! The salesmouse showed

      us a superscary cat mask and a squeak-

      controlled race car. But all Benjamin wanted

      was to go home. When we got there, he ran

      inside before I could even say good-bye.

      I felt lower than a sewer rat. I hung my

      head and headed back to the office.

      What else could I do? I had so much work to do!

      Pick whatever

      you like!

      14

      When I got back to the office, I slumped

      behind my desk. What a rotten day. How could

      I have forgotten my favorite nephew? If only

      I didn’t have so much work to do. Just then,

      I noticed the light on my answering machine

      blinking. I hit the MESSAGE button. “Why aren’t

      you at your desk, Geronimo?! Don’t make me

      come in there!” Grandfather William’s voice

      bellowed through the speaker.

      I cringed. Suddenly, I heard a knock at

      the door. Who could it be? A delivery mouse

      wheeled in a huge package. It was

      decorated with a shiny bow and some tiny

      yellow bananas.

      “I love bananas! B-a-n-a-n-a-s!”

      I DON’T HAVE TIME

      FOR SURPRISES!

      I looked around to see who had spoken, but

      didn’t see anyone.

      Then, a sooty gray rat sprang out from the

      package. He was wearing a long trench coat

      and matching hat.

      It was my friend Hercule Poirat,

      the famouse detective!

      He handed me a little PACKAGE. “Surprised,

      Stilton? I wanted to wish you a Merry

      Christmas!” he shouted.

      Before I could respond, I heard a knock

      at the window.

      W

      h

      o

      ’

      s

      b

      o

      t

      h

      e

      r

      i

      n

      g

      m

      e

      ?

      M

      e

      r

      r

      y

      C

      h

      r

      i

      s

      t

      m

      a

      s

      !

      16

      My eyes nearly popped out of my fur. A

      rodent was hanging in front of the window

      ledge. He had a crew cut and big, bulging

      muscles. He was DANGLING from a

      bungee cord.

      I opened the window with shaking paws.

      Was he some kind of spy? Was he from

      another planet?

      “Hey, fellow camper!” the rodent yelled.

      “Just dropping by to say happy holidays!”

      It was my friend Burt Burlyrat, otherwise

      known as B.B. We’d met at a survival boot

      camp deep in the jungle. Why would a

      scaredy-mouse like me go to boot camp?

      Well, that’s another story.

      Now my teeth began to chatter watching

      B.B. sway in the wind. I felt like I was about to

      have a nervous breakdown. Of course, Burt

      didn’t seem to mind that he was dangling

      forty feet in the

      air by a little

      CORD

      . Instead

      he just smiled at

      me and handed me

      a GIFT-WRAPPED

      PACKAGE

      .

      I was still worrying

      about B.B. when the

      door to my office

      slammed open again.

      "Merry Christmas

      to you, dear

      Geronimo!” a

      magnificent

      voice sang out.

      A beautiful

      rat wearing a

      scrumptious

      Happy holidays!

      cheddar perfume stood in the doorway

      holding a gift. She had amber-colored fur,

      twinkling eyes, and a dazzling smile. It was

      my dear friend Squeaky Star.

      Do you know Squeaky? She is a very

      famouse singer. Her , Under a Cheddar

      Moon, has been number one on the charts

      for almost a whole year. We met a while ago

      on top of Kilimanjaro during another one

      of my crazy adventures. I’ll have to tell you

      about it sometime.

      S

      q

      u

      e

      a

      k

      !

      Best wishes!

      CD

      “I see you already have guests,” Squeaky

      said, smiling. “Why don’t we all go out

      for a HOLIDAY lunch and you can open

      your CHRISTMAS GIFTS?”

      Cheese niblets! I hated to be a Scrooge.

      But what could I say? I had so much work

      to do! And what if Grandfather William

      decided to stop by? He’d have my tail!

      “Thanks,” I said.
    “But I don’t have

      time. You’ll all have to go without me. I

      am too busy.”

      Disappointed, my friends headed out

      the door. Well, except for B.B. He lowered

      himself down to the sidewalk, instead.

      I tried to wave good-bye, but he never

      looked up.

      I felt like the worst friend in the

      whole world.

      20

      The snow kept falling, thicker and

      thicker.

      I had my snout buried deep in a pile of

      papers when my friend Petunia Pretty Paws

      stopped by. She is a fascinating mouse. I

      guess you could say I have had a huge

      crush

      on her forever. Too bad

      whenever I’m around her, I turn into a

      babbling, blundering fool. I stammer. I

      stutter. Sometimes I can’t even tell my left

      paw from my right.

      Petunia hugged me. “Geronimo!” she

      squeaked.

      “Yes, um, that’s me, Seronimo Gilton. I

      mean Geronimo Stilton,” I mumbled, grinning.

      I DON’T HAVE TIME

      TO TRAVEL!

      Petunia GIGGED and grabbed my paw.

      “I have the most exciting news! I’m headed

      off to Australia after Christmas to film a

      documentary about dolphins. Why don’t you

      come with me?” she squeaked. “Just think,

      right now the sun is shining in Australia.”

      I stared out the window. Oh, it would be so

      nice to get away. Then I looked at the stack

      of papers on my desk.

      “Ahem, thanks, but I’m really too busy to go,”

      I said.

      Petunia put her paws on her hips. “Yes, yes.

      I know you’re a very busy mouse, but there are some

      things in life that are more important than

      work, G,” she scolded.

      I chewed my whiskers. Maybe she was right.

      I was just about to say yes to Petunia

      when I noticed the big, framed picture of

      Grandfather William on the wall.

      His piercing black eyes seemed to be

      glaring at me. “All work and no play makes a mouse

     


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