"Faster, faster," the Snowman shouts, not angrily at all, and waves his splendid hat. Why do I always come first? He thinks and watches the Christmas presents briskly climb over the crest of the hill on their skis. "Here we come," they yell and gather speed, with the eyes bulging and out of breath with exertion. "Hurry up, or I have to go into the house myself to get the presents into the sack under the Christmas tree, but it's as hot there as in Africa," the Snowman says worriedly. "No, you do not, we'll be there is a jiffy," the Christmas presents soothe him, bracing themselves for the last effort. And before the Snowman can understand, the presents are all nicely in the sack ready and waiting for their happy owner. Merry Christmas!