Page 76—Santa Claus Land

Christmas
When the children have been good,
That is, be it understood,
Good at meal-times, good at play,
Good all night and good all day,—
They shall have the pretty things
Merry Christmas always brings.
A Christmas Eve Adventure
Once on a time, in a queer little town,
On the shore of the Zuyder Zee,
When all the good people were fast asleep,
A strange thing happened to me.
Alone, the night before Christmas,
I sat by the glowing fire,
Watching the flame as it rose and fell,
While the sparks shot high and higher.
Suddenly one of these sparks began
To flicker and glimmer and wink
Like a big bright eye, till I hardly knew
What to do or to say or to think.
Quick as a flash, it changed to a face,
And what in the world did I see
But dear old Santa Claus nodding his head,
And waving his hand to me!
"Oh! follow me, follow me!" soft he cried,—
And up through the chimney with him
I mounted, not daring to utter a word
Till we stood on the chimney's rim.
"Now tell me, I beg you, dear Santa Claus,
Where am I going with you?"
He laughingly answered, "Why, don't you know?
To travel the whole world through!
"From my crystal palace, far in the North,
I have come since dark,—and see
These curious things for the little folk
Who live on the Zuyder Zee."
Then seating himself in his reindeer sledge,
And drawing me down by his side,
He whistled, and off on the wings of the wind
We flew for our midnight ride.
But first, such comical presents he left
For the little Dutch girls and boys,—
Onions and sausages, wooden-faced dolls,
Cheeses and gingerbread toys!
Away we hurried far to the South,
To the beautiful land of France;
And there we showered the loveliest gifts,—
Flaxen-haired dolls that could dance.
Soldiers that marched at the word of command,
Necklaces, bracelets and rings,
Tiny gold watches, all studded with gems,
And hundreds of exquisite things.
Crossing the Channel, we made a short call
In Scotland and Ireland, too;
Left a warm greeting for England and Wales,
Then over the ocean we flew
Straight to America, where by myself,
Perched on a chimney high,
I watched him scramble and bustle about
Between the earth and the sky.
Many a stocking he filled to the brim,
And numberless Christmas trees
Burst into bloom at his magical touch!
Then all of a sudden a breeze
Caught us and bore us away to the South,
And afterwards blew us "out West;"
And never till dawn peeped over the hills
Did we stop for a moment's rest.
"Christmas is coming!" he whispered to me,
"You can see his smile in the sky,—
I wish Merry Christmas to all the world!
My work is over,—good-bye!"
Like a flash he was gone, and I was alone,—
For all of this happened to me
Once on a time, in a queer little town
On the shore of the Zuyder Zee!
M. M.
Little Bennie
I had told him, Christmas morning,
As he sat upon my knee,
Holding fast his little stockings,
Stuffed as full as can be,
And attentive listening to me,
With a face demure and mild,
That old Santa Claus, who filled them,
Did not love a naughty child.
"But we'll be good, won't we, moder?"
And from off my lap he slid,
Digging deep among the goodies
In his crimson stockings hid.
While I turned me to my table,
Where a tempting goblet stood,
Brimming high with a dainty custard,
Sent me by a neighbour good.
But the kitten, there before me,
With his white paw, nothing loth,
Sat, by way of entertainment,
Lapping off the shining froth;
And, in not the gentlest humour
At the loss of such a treat,
I confess I rather rudely
Thrust him out into the street.
Then how Bennie's blue eyes kindled;
Gathering up the precious store
He had busily been pouring
In his tiny pinafore,
With a generous look that shamed me
Sprang he from the carpet bright,
Showing, by his mien indignant,
All a baby's sense of right.
"Come back Harney," called he loudly,
As he held his apron white,
"You shall have my candy wabbit;"
But the door was fastened tight.
So he stood, abashed and silent,
In the centre of the floor,
With defeated look, alternate
Bent on me and on the door.
Then, as by some sudden impulse,
Quickly ran he to the fire,
And while eagerly his bright eyes
Watched the flames grow high and higher,
In a brave, clear key he shouted,
Like some lordly little elf,
"Santa Kaus, come down the chimney,
Make my mother 'have herself."
"I'll be a good girl, Bennie,"
Said I, feeling the reproof;
And straightway recalled poor Harney,
Mewing on the galley roof.
Soon the anger was forgotten,
Laughter chased away the frown,
And they gambolled 'neath the live oaks,
Till the dusky night came down.
In my dim, fire-lighted chamber
Harney purred beneath my chair,
And my play-worn boy beside me
Knelt to say his evening prayer:
"God bess fader, God bess moder,
God bess sister," then a pause,
And the sweet young lips devoutly
Murmured "God bess Santa Kaus."
He is sleeping: brown and silken
Lie the lashes, long and meek,
Like caressing, clinging shadows,
On his plump and peachy cheek;
And I bend above him, weeping,
Thankful tears; O undefiled;
For a woman's crown of glory,
For the blessing of a child.
Annie C. Ketchum

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