We don't know what Satan's steady occupation is, but if all reports are true he must saw lots of wood in order to keep up the fires in his settlement all the year 'round.
The Christmas Fiddles.
I.
Tune up the Christmas fiddles! There's happiness about,
And willing fingers waiting to coax the music out!
There's music in the valley, there's music on the plain,
And music in the measures of happy sun and rain;
Then fix your fiddles, fellers! The music fond and sweet
Is waiting,—waiting ever,—the music of the feet!
II.
Tune up the Christmas fiddles! The royal raptures flow
From finger-tips of gladness to happy heel and toe,
Till joyous hearts are beating and rosy lips of love
Are sweet as fairy music from the heaven harps above!
Then fix your fiddles, fellers! To match the merry sound
We'll dance the Christmas chorus and swing the partners' round!
III.
Tune up the Christmas fiddles!
They're lonely with the song
Their bosoms kept so closely in silences so long;
The boys and girls are weary with toilsomeness that grows
Where labor drowns the music of melodies she knows;
Then fix your fiddles, fellers! Each happy heart shall beat
To glories of the raptures and trippings of the feet!