Santa Claus to Little Ethel. 165 Or a growl, or a grumble come out of your heads; To work now, instanter! Trot, gallop, and canter, And finish this job ere you go to your beds!" So I set them to work And everything's finished in beautiful style. And I'm off with my train, I shall slip down the flue With this letter for you, So softly, for fear I your slumbers might break. Not a word will I speak, But I'll kiss your soft cheek, And be gone in a jiffy, before you awake. Should you find I've forgot Any part of the lot That I ordered prepared and all marked with your name, Let me just add a word, So if that has occurred, You will know just exactly how I was to blame. The fact is, my dear, Up and down these straight chimneys, while you are in bed, The bumps and the scratches That Santa Claus catches Have rubbed all the hair from the top of his head. And my brain being bare Of my cover of hair, Is rapidly losing its power, my pet! I get everything mixed, And you must forgive if I ever forget. Good-by, Ethel dear! May the coming New Year Bring all kinds of blessings to you from above; Make you happier and better: And so my long letter Must close, with a great deal of Santa Claus's love. Francis Wells. The Season's Reveries. "How many times have you sat at gaze Till the mouldering fire forgot to blaze, Shaping among the whimsical coals Fancies and figures and shining goals!" Lowell. GUESTS AT YULE. Noel! Noel! Thus sounds each Christmas bell Across the winter snow. But what are the little footprints all That mark the path from the churchyard wall? They are those of the children waked to-night From sleep by the Christmas bells and light: Ring sweetly, chimes! rhymes! Soft, soft, my Their beds are under the snow. Noel! Noel! Carols each Christmas bell. What are the wraiths of mist That gather anear the window-pane H Ring fleetly, chimes! Swift, swift, my rhymes! They are made of the mocking mist. Noel! Noel! Cease, cease, each Christmas bell! Under the holly bough, |