Children of Christmas, and Others

by Edith Matilda Thomas

Though not the tune he whistles down the hill.

He comes—is at the door. Why, goodman, dear,

You’re out of breath! Bad news you bring, I fear.”

“Bad news” (the goodman smiles, with half a frown),

“But not for us; and so take heart of cheer.

I own I’m out of breath—but sit ye down

And hear the strangest thing e’er happened in this town.”

VI

The children gather at their father’s knees

And, wonder-eyed, the coming story wait—