Hannah More Johnson.
Miss Johnson, the niece of Mr. J. Henry Johnson, one of Morristown's old residents, and the last preceptor of the old Academy, will be found again among "Historians". She has written and published a large number of poems, besides, and from them we select the following:
THE CHRISTMAS TREE.
Shall I tell you a story of Christmas time?
Of what Nellie found by her Christmas tree?
If I tell it at all, it must be in rhyme
For it seems like a song to Nellie and me
That ripples along to a breezy tune,
Like a brook that sings through the woods in June;
And yet it was dark November weather
When song and story began together.
"Papa", said Nellie, with wistful tone,
"When God sends little children here,
Do beautiful angels flutter down
As once when they brought our Saviour dear?
Don't they sing in the sky, where we can't see
And listen up there to Harry and me?
'Cause I prayed last night for the bestest things
Heavenly Father sends us, and Harry said
I might ask for a sister who hadn't wings
A dear little sister to sleep in my bed;
For my other one went away, you know,
To sing with the angels long ago,
And I want another to stay with me
A dear little sister like Daisy Lee.
So high, Papa! Look, don't you see?
Just up to my chin. Heavenly Father knows
'Bout her dress and her shoes and her curly hair
'Cause I told him all, and so I s'pose
The first little sister He has to spare
He'll send her down here, oh won't she be
A dear little sister for Harry and me!"
"Yes, my Nellie", her father said,
One gentle hand on the curly head
With tender caress and whispered word
Too low for her ear, 'though a Bright-one heard
And passed it up, meet signal given
From love on earth to love in heaven;
"Yes, my Nellie, wait and see!
We are all in our Heavenly Father's care
And He'll send what is best for you and me
When we look to Him with a loving prayer".
The days passed on. 'Twas that happy time
When bells ring out with their Christmas chime;
There were people at work all over the land
Busy for Santa Claus, heart and hand,
And some in cabin and work-shop dim
Who wouldn't have work if it wasn't for him;
And Harry and Nellie?—There were none
In that Christmas time had a gayer tree.
Papa was at work at early dawn
And the children all tip-toe to see;
But the dark December day wore on
E'er the door was opened noiselessly,
And the light streamed out in the dusky hall
From a beautiful cedar bright and tall.
Starry tapers were gleaming there,
Toy and trumpet and banner fair,
The topmost flag on the ceiling bore
While the laden branches swept the floor;
While gay little Rover frisking in,
Led the children in frolic and din
As they spied each treasure and in their glee
Shouted with joy round the Christmas tree,
While Papa stood back in a corner to see.
"Oh! Harry", said Nellie, "I do declare
Here's a basket for me!" She opened the lid
And pulled back the blanket folded there
And what d'ye think was safely hid
But a dear live baby so fast asleep
That it never waked up with the children's shout
Till Nellie asked, "is it ours to keep?"
And kissed its hand as she stood in doubt.
"Of course," said Harry, "don't angels know
When God has told them which way to go?
That's our little sister we wanted so!"
"Little sister", said Nellie, "I'm very glad,
I know you're the best Heavenly Father had
And now you're ours and you're going to stay
'Cause the angels have left you and gone away".
"No, my Nellie", a voice replied,
As Papa drew near to Nellie's side,
"Let us pray they may watch over this little one
Day by day, till life is done,
That she may be glad through eternity
She was ever left 'neath our Christmas tree".