Santa (looking R. and L.).
Ho, ho, my little rogues. You set a trap
To catch me napping; now who takes the nap?
I’m an old schemer; even your sharp eyes
Could never find me in this queer disguise.
Dream on, my darlings, while I treasures heap.
Ho, ho! to fill your hose while you’re asleep.
Year after year, I drop in on the sly,
Through chimneys made for me so broad and high;
To pop down them is made my cheerful duty;