Nate the Great and the Crunchy Christmas Read online

  READ ALL THESE

  NATE THE GREAT DETECTIVE STORIES

  NATE THE GREAT

  NATE THE GREAT GOES UNDERCOVER

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE LOST LIST

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE PHONY CLUE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE STICKY CASE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE MISSING KEY

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE SNOWY TRAIL

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE FISHY PRIZE

  NATE THE GREAT STALKS STUPIDWEED

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE BORING BEACH BAG

  NATE THE GREAT GOES DOWN IN THE DUMPS

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE HALLOWEEN HUNT

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE MUSICAL NOTE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE STOLEN BASE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE PILLOWCASE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE MUSHY VALENTINE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE TARDY TORTOISE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE CRUNCHY CHRISTMAS

  NATE THE GREAT SAVES THE KING OF SWEDEN

  NATE THE GREAT AND ME: THE CASE OF THE FLEEING FANG

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE MONSTER MESS

  NATE THE GREAT, SAN FRANCISCO DETECTIVE

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE BIG SNIFF

  NATE THE GREAT ON THE OWL EXPRESS

  NATE THE GREAT TALKS TURKEY

  NATE THE GREAT AND THE HUNGRY BOOK CLUB

  AND CONTINUE THE DETECTIVE FUN WITH

  OLIVIA SHARP

  by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Mitchell Sharmat

  illustrated by Denise Brunkus

  OLIVIA SHARP: THE PIZZA MONSTER

  OLIVIA SHARP: THE PRINCESS OF THE FILLMORE STREET SCHOOL

  OLIVIA SHARP: THE SLY SPY

  OLIVIA SHARP: THE GREEN TOENAILS GANG

  by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat

  and Craig Sharmat

  illustrations by Marc Simont

  Delacorte Press

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 1996 by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Craig Sharmat

  Cover art and illustrations copyright © 1996 by Marc Simont

  Extra Fun Activities text copyright © 2005 by Emily Costello

  Extra Fun Activities illustrations copyright © 2005 by Jody Wheeler

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York. Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Delacorte Press in 1996.

  Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House LLC.

  * * *

  Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  Trade paperback ISBN 978-0-385-32117-4 — Hardcover ISBN 978-0-440-41299-1 — eBook ISBN 978-0-385-37686-0

  Book design by Trish Parcell

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1

  To my grandparents,

  Nathan and Anna,

  Leon and Lucille

  —C.S.

  Contents

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  First Page

  Extra Fun Activities

  About the Authors

  I, Nate the Great,

  am a detective.

  I do important things.

  Today I was doing something important.

  I was shoveling snow.

  My dog, Sludge, was chasing snowflakes.

  Suddenly I heard a jingling sound.

  Annie was coming up our walk

  with her dog, Fang.

  Fang had bells on his collar

  and an elf hat on his head.

  “Doesn’t Fang look cute?” Annie said.

  “Just like a giant elf.”

  Sludge looked at me.

  I looked at Sludge.

  We both knew that all

  the bells and elves

  and jingles and jangles

  in the world

  could not make Fang

  look cute.

  Fang looked hungry.

  “Fang is not a happy elf,”

  Annie said.

  This was not good news.

  “Every year, two weeks before

  Christmas, Fang gets a

  Christmas card from his mother

  in the mail,” Annie said.

  “It is now a week

  before Christmas

  and Fang has not received

  his card.”

  “Perhaps she didn’t send it,”

  I said.

  “Would a mother forget Fang?”

  Annie said.

  I, Nate the Great,

  wished I could.

  “I need your help

  to find the card,”

  Annie said.

  “I have to shovel snow,”

  I said.

  Fang sat down and glared at me.

  I, Nate the Great,

  was thinking.

  It was the holiday season.

  It was not a good idea

  for a giant elf

  to be unhappy.

  “I will take your case,”

  I said. “Wait here.”

  I went into my house.

  I wrote a note to my mother.

  I went outside.

  I spoke to Annie.

  “The mailman leaves your mail

  in your mailbox, right?”

  “Most of the time,” Annie said.

  “Sometimes he drops it

  on the ground

  near the mailbox.”

  “Why does he do that?”

  “Sometimes Fang is

  so happy to see

  the mailman that he

  runs out of the house

  to greet him.

  The mailman drops the mail

  and flees.”

  I, Nate the Great, knew

  exactly how the mailman felt.

  I said, “Then what?”

  “Fang runs after the mailman.

  They both disappear.

  I run out to get the mail.”

  “So, there is no chance

  for anybody else

  to take that mail?”

  “No chance,” Annie said.

  “We must go to your mailbox

  and look for clues,” I said.

  Annie, Fang, Sludge, and I

  walked through the snow.

  It was crunchy under our feet.

  “Are you missing any other mail?”

  I asked.

  “No,” Annie said.

  I walked up to Annie’s mailbox.

  It was so stuffed

  that pieces of mail

  were sticking out.

  “I guess that today’s mail

  came while I was at your house,”

  Annie said.

  I started to open the mailbox.

  “Watch out!” Annie yelled.

  It was too late.

  What must have been

  the largest single-day collection

  of holiday catalogs

  ever mailed to one address

  landed on me.

  This was
not going to be

  an easy case.

  “How long have you

  been getting these catalogs?”

  I asked.

  “For about eight weeks.

  I collect them,” Annie said.

  “I haven’t had a chance

  to read most of them yet.

  Last year I counted

  one billion nine hundred

  and ninety-nine things

  that you could buy.”

  I, Nate the Great,

  did not want to know

  what any of them were.

  But the catalogs could be

  a clue.

  “I need to see the catalogs

  that came last week,” I said.

  “About the time that Fang’s card

  should have arrived.”

  “My catalogs are all mixed up,”

  Annie said. “They are in my room.”

  Annie, Fang, Sludge, and I

  went to Annie’s room.

  One whole side of it was

  covered with catalogs.

  This was going to be

  a long day.

  I walked over and picked up

  a catalog.

  I started to look

  through the pages.

  An envelope fell out.

  I picked it up.

  “This looks like your

  heating bill,” I said.

  “Didn’t you miss getting it?”

  Annie shrugged.

  “It’s never addressed

  to me or Fang. So it

  doesn’t count.”

  I flipped through

  more pages.

  A postcard fell out.

  It was addressed to Fang.

  But I, Nate the Great,

  did not think that

  Fang would want to see it.

  It was a reminder

  from the vet

  for Fang to come in

  for his shots.

  I picked up another catalog.

  I found three envelopes in

  that one.

  I spoke to Annie.

  “I have solved your case.”

  “Oh, great,” Annie said.

  “So where is Fang’s card?”

  “Solving is one thing.

  Finding is another,”

  I said. “The card

  must be somewhere in your

  catalogs. A lot of your mail

  got stuck inside them.

  I hope that we won’t

  have to look through

  one billion nine hundred

  and ninety-nine things

  before we find the card.”

  Annie and I looked

  through one catalog

  after another.

  Sludge sniffed each one.

  Some of the catalogs

  were for dogs.

  Christmas food for dogs.

  Christmas toys for dogs.

  Christmas clothes for dogs.

  Fang must be on a mailing list.

  Envelopes kept dropping out.

  But none were from Mrs. Fang.

  At last I said,

  “I have not solved this case.

  I need clues.

  Do you still have the old cards

  Fang got from his mother?”

  “Oh yes, Fang saves them,”

  Annie said. “Here are the ones

  from the last three years.”

  I looked at the cards.

  The one from the first year

  was tiny. It said

  “Merry Christmas from Mother Fang.

  May you eat lots of doggie bones

  and grow.”

  The card must have worked.

  The card from the second year

  was bigger.

  It said “Merry Christmas

  from Mother Fang.

  Are you eating your bones, son?

  A bone a day

  keeps the vet away.”

  The third card was even bigger.

  It said “Merry Christmas from

  Mother Fang.

  Wear your booties in the snow.

  Don’t go out when it’s ten below.

  Eat those bones and grow, grow, grow!”

  “Mrs. Fang is such a bossy mother!”

  Annie said. “She knows Fang

  loves bones anyway.”

  “Let me get this straight,”

  I said. “Fang is happy

  to get these cards?”

  “Oh yes,” Annie said.

  “On Christmas Day

  he jumps up on my lap.

  I read him the card.

  He listens to every word.”

  “He jumps on your lap?” I said.

  “And he snuggles,” Annie said.

  “Maybe that’s a clue?”

  “Maybe that’s a miracle,”

  I said.

  I, Nate the Great, was thinking.

  The cards got bigger each year.

  So this year’s card

  must be the biggest yet.

  It should be easy to find.

  “Who else was here last week

  when the mail came?” I asked.

  “Rosamond and her four cats,”

  Annie said. “She was looking

  for a cat catalog.”

  “Did you get one?”

  “Yes, and I gave it to her.”

  “Aha! So Rosamond has

  one of your catalogs.

  I must go to her house.”

  Sludge and I left.

  We crunched our way

  to Rosamond’s house.

  On her front door

  there was a big card

  with a poem

  and a picture of a cat

  with a red cap

  and a white beard.

  I could tell that

  Rosamond was going to have

  a very strange Christmas.

  I knocked on the door.

  Rosamond answered it.

  “You are just in time

  to help me decorate

  my cat tree,” she said.

  Sludge and I walked inside.

  The tree was in the

  middle of the living room.

  There were tuna fish cans

  painted red and green

  hanging from it.

  All of Rosamond’s cats

  were sitting in the tree.

  On the bottom branch was

  Super Hex.

  On the next branch was Big Hex.

  On the next branch was Plain Hex.

  On the top branch was Little Hex.

  He had a ribbon around his neck

  with a star hanging from it.

  Rosamond smiled.

  “Little Hex is the star

  of my tree.”

  “A fine choice,” I said.

  “I have come to see

  your cat catalog.”

  “Here it is,”

  Rosamond said.

  I flipped through the pages.

  “What are you looking for?”

  Rosamond asked.

  “A big Christmas card

  from Fang’s mother to Fang.

  But it is not in here.”

  “That’s dog stuff,” Rosamond

  said. “You won’t find it in

  a CATalog.” Rosamond laughed.

  Then she said, “I did find something.

  I think it’s a telephone bill.”

  “I will give it to Annie,”

  I said. “Pretty soon she will

  have no heat and no phone service.

  Only catalogs.”

  Sludge and I walked toward the door.

  “Wait, my tree isn’t finished,”

  Rosamond said.

  “It looks finished to me,” I said.

  “I wish you and your cats

  a Merry Christmas.”

  Sludge and I headed for home.

  I had to t
hink about the case.

  Pancakes help me think.

  At home I made potato pancakes.

  I eat them every Chanukah.

  “Happy Chanukah, Sludge,” I said.

  I gave Sludge his card

  and a bone.

  Sludge wagged his tail,

  sniffed the card,

  and started to eat the bone.

  Crunch! Munch! Crunch!

  “You are having a crunchy

  Chanukah,” I said. “Do

  you know what I want

  for the holiday?”

  Sludge looked up.

  “Clues!” I said.

  I was thinking,

  Do I have any?

  I knew a lot of facts.

  But were they clues?

  I knew that Fang’s card

  was big.

  I knew that when Fang

  greeted the mailman

  he dropped the mail

  and ran for his life.

  I knew that Annie had a strong lap.

  Forget that one.

  I knew that Rosamond had

  the world’s strangest

  Christmas tree.

  Forget that one too.

  I knew that Mrs. Fang

  was a bossy mother.

  She kept after Fang

  to eat bones.

  But dogs love bones anyway.

  I looked at Sludge.

  He kept making crunching sounds

  with his bone.

  Hmm.

  Was he trying to tell me something?

  He was.

  He knew what I had to do

  to solve this case.

  He knew that I, Nate the Great,

  had to think like a dog!

  I did not want to do that.

  But I had to find the card.

  “Come,” I said to Sludge.

  Sludge and I rushed back

  to Annie’s house.

  It was hard to do.

  The snow was getting

  deeper and deeper.

  I handed the telephone bill

  to Annie. Then I said,

  “There is a clue in

  Fang’s old Christmas cards.

  Each year the cards