90 OLD CHRISTMAS. We know he will not fail us, He comes with a cordial voice That does one good to hear, He shakes one heartily by the hand, And after the little children He asks in a cheerful tone, What a fine old fellow he is! What a fine old fellow, in troth! Not he! for he loveth the children, And comes with his pockets full of gifts. And he tells us witty old stories, Till the day that he comes again. 92 A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS. And all the workhouse children And giveth them rare plum-pudding, He must be a rich old fellow, Good luck unto old Christmas, Than many a crownéd king! MARY HOWITT. A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS. 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: 66 Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Dunder and Blixen ! To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys—and St. Nicholas too. And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. 94 A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS. He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle; But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!" C. C. MOORE, |