Jólasveinarnir 13

The Icelandic Yule lads bear little similarity to the world-famous Santa Claus. In contrast, the Yule Lads are the sons of two of the most hideous ogres ever known in Iceland, Grýla and Leppalúði. Each Yule Lad has its own specific characteristic that describes itself in each of their names. They appear one by one from the mountains and start arriving 13 days before Christmas to wreak minor havoc and during the festive preparations. They also leave little gifts in the shoes of well behaved children but ill behaved children are not as fortunate since they only get a potato in their shoes.

December 12th
The first of them was Sheep-Cote Clod. He came stiff as wood, to prey upon the farmer's sheep as far as he could. He wished to suck the ewes, but it was no accident he couldn't; he had stiff knees - not to convenient.
December 13th
The second was Gully Gawk, gray his head and mien. He snuck into the cow barn from his craggy ravine. Hiding in the stalls, he would steal the milk, while the milkmaid gave the cowherd a meaningful smile.
December 14th
Stubby was the third called, a stunted little man, who watched for every chance to whisk off a pan. And scurrying away with it, he scraped off the bits that stuck to the bottom and brims - his favorites.
Spoon licker
December 15th
The fourth was Spoon Licker; like spindle he was thin. He felt himself in clover when the cook wasn't in. Then stepping up, he grappled the stirring spoon with glee, holding it with both hands for it was slippery.
Pot scraber
December 16th
Pot Scraper, the fifth one, was a funny sort of chap. When kids were given scrapings, he'd come to the door and tap. And they would rush to see if there really was a guest. Then he hurried to the pot and had a scrapingfest.
Bowl licker
December 17th
Bowl Licker, the sixth one, was shockingly ill bred. From underneath the bedsteads he stuck his ugly head. And when the bowls were left to be licked by dog or cat, he snatched them for himself - he was sure good at that!
Door slammer
December 18th
The seventh was Door Slammer, a sorry, vulgar chap: When people in the twilight would take a little nap, he was happy as a lark with the havoc he could wreak, slamming doors and hearing the hinges on them squeak.
Skyr gobbler
December 19th
Skyr Gobbler, the eighth, was an awful stupid bloke. He lambasted the skyr tub till the lid on it broke. Then he stood there gobbling - his greed was well known - until, about to burst, he would bleat, howl and groan.
Sausage swiper
December 20th
The ninth was Sausage Swiper, a shifty pilferer. He climbed up to the rafters and raided food from there. Sitting on a crossbeam in soot and in smoke, he fed himself on sausage fit for gentlefolk.
Window peeper
December 21st
The tenth was Window Peeper, a weird little twit, who stepped up to the window and stole a peek through it. And whatever was inside to which his eye was drawn, he most likely attempted to take later on.
Door sniffer
December 22nd
Eleventh was Door Sniffer, a doltish lad and gross. He never got a cold, yet had a huge, sensitive nose. He caught the scent of lace bread while leagues away still and ran toward it weightless as wind over dale and hill.
Meat hook
December 23rd
Meat Hook, the twelfth one, his talent would display as soon as he arrived on Saint Thorlak's Day. He snagged himself a morsel of meet of any sort, although his hook at times was a tiny bit short.
Candle beggar
December 24th
The thirteenth was Candle Beggar - ‘twas cold, I believe, if he was not the last of the lot on Christmas Eve. He trailed after the little ones who, like happy sprites, ran about the farm with their fine tallow lights
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