Budds' Christmas Stocking
It was Christmas-time, as all the world knew;
It stormed without, and the cold wind blew,
But within all was cheerful, snug, and bright,
With glowing fires and many a light.
Budd B. was sent quite early to bed,
His stocking was hung up close to his head,
And he said to himself "When all grows still
I will find a big stocking for Santy to fill."
Now, good, honest Hans, who worked at the house,
Had gone to his bed as still as a mouse;
The room where he slept was one story higher
Than Budd's little room, with gaslight and fire.
Now, Hans loved "the poy," and petted him too,
And often at night, when his task was all through,
He would tell him strange stories of over the sea,
While Budd listened gravely or laughed out in glee.
This night Hans had promised to wake Budd at four;
He would softly come down and open his door;
But suddenly Budd bounded out of his bed,
And stole softly up to the room overhead.
On his hands and his knees he crept softly in,
"I'll borrow Han's stocking," he said, with a grin;
Old Santy will fill it up to the top,
And Hans—oh, such fun! will be mad as a hop."
He moved very slowly, and felt near the bed;
No stocking was there, but down on his head
Came a deluge of water, well sprinkled with ice,
While honest Hans held him as if in a vice.
"Vat is dat?" he cried out; "von robber I find,
Den I pound him, and shake him, so much as I mind"
"It's me," called out Budd; "Stop, Hans! oh, please do;
I'm only a boy; I could not rob you."
But Hans did not pause—his temper was hot—
And he dragged the young robber at once from the spot,
When he reached the hall light great was his surprise
To find his young master with tears in his eyes.
"I wanted your stocking," muttered Budd B.;
It is bigger than mine; boo hoo! I can't see,
And I'm all wet and cold." thus cried Budd aloud,
Until guests and his parents ran up in a crowd.
He was wrapped up with care and taken to bed,
But, strangest of all, not a harsh word was said.
He flattered himself as he fell asleep
That Hans and his friends the secret would keep.
Next morning, when Christmas songs filled all the air,
Budd found, to his grief and boyish despair,
That his neck was so stiff that he could not turn his head,
And must spend the whole day alone in his bed.
What was worse, his own stocking hung limp on a chair,
And on it these words were written most fair:
"To him who is greedy I leave less than all;
The world is so large and my reindeer so small.
"My pack is elastic when children are kind,
But it shuts with a snap and leaves nothing behind,
When a boy or girl is selfish or mean.
Good-bye, little Budd, I am off with my team.
(Signed) Santa Claus."
Christmas
Again the Christmas holidays have come,
We soon will hear the trumpet and the drum;
We'll hear the merry shout of the girls and boys
Rejoicing o'er their gifts of books and toys.
Old Santa Claus comes by at dead of night,
And down the chimney creeps—a funny sight;
He fills the stockings full of books and toys,
But puts in whips for naughty girls and boys.
One Christmas-eve the moon shone clear and bright;
I thought I'd keep awake and watch all night,
But it was silent all around and stilled,
Yet in the morn I found my stockings filled.
Christmas Morning
They put me in a square bed, and there they bade me sleep;
I must not stir; I must not wake; I must not even peep;
Right opposite that lonely bed, my Christmas stocking hung;
While near it, waiting for the morn, my Sunday clothes were flung.
I counted softly, to myself, to ten and ten times ten,
And went through all the alphabet, and then began again;
I repeated that Fifth-Reader piece—a poem called "Repose,"
And tried a dozen various ways to fall into a dose—
When suddenly the room grew light. I heard a soft, strong bound,
'Twas Santa Claus, I felt quite sure, but dared not look around.
'Twas nice to know that he was there, and things were going rightly,
And so I took a little nap, and tried to smile politely.
"Ho! Merry Christmas!" cried a voice; I felt the bed a-rocking;
Twas daylight—brother Bob was up! and oh, that splendid stocking!
St. Nicholas

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Page 80—Santa Claus Land

Little Nellie's Visit From Santa Claus
Santa Claus is coming to-night, papa;
Please let me sit up and see him, mamma;
Loaded with presents, I'm sure he'll be.
He'll have something nice for you and for me.
"Mamma, do find something fresh and quite new,
For dear old Santa Claus, when he comes through,
I'll give it myself; I'll keep wide awake;
I know he'll be glad my present to take.
"Now all go to bed as quick as you please,
I'll wait for him," said the bright little tease,
"He surely will ring, no doubt about that,
I'll bid him come in and then have a chat."
Soon came a quick step on the piazza floor,
Just then a loud ring was heard at the door.
The little miss rose with dignified air,
Quick ushered him in, and set him a chair.
All covered o'er with little bells tinkling,
Shaking and laughing, twisting and wriggling,
A funny old man, with little eyes blinking,
Looking at Nellie, what was he thinking?
Not a word did he say—tired of waiting,
Nellie arose, her little heart quaking,
Held out her present, courage most failing,
"Santa Claus, take this"—now she is smiling.
"His furry old hand, twisting and trembling,
Took the sweet gift—"You dear little darling,"
Uttered quite softly, tenderly kissing,
The bright little face, ne'er a bit shrinking.
Lots of presents quickly bestowing,
Thanking her kindly—he must be going,
Shaking and laughing, his little bells jingling,
Down the steps, hastening off in a twinkling.
Brave little lady! all are now saying,
Santa Claus truly! bright eyes are asking;
See her dear papa, secretly laughing
At her true faith in Santa Claus' coming.
Yes! she believes it, ever so truly,
Dear precious darling! rob her not surely,
Of childhood's sweet faith, now in its glory,
While she's relating her own simple story.
Mrs. C. E. Wilbur