“Oh, yes,� said the angel, “come hither with me,
And a drink that is better than schnapps you shall see.
It flows from a rock here all limpid and pure,
And most of life’s ills it will certainly cure.
It will bring you no sorrow, misfortune or grief.
Just try it, Von Groot, and it is my belief,
After testing its virtue, my dear friend, perhaps
You’ll admit there is something much better than schnapps.�
In a goblet of gold the elixer was brought.
He grasped it and drank it, and certainly thought
That new life through his nerves and his heart seemed to thrill.
“Drink, drink,� said the angel, “don’t fear; drink your fill.
Behind this elixir there are no mishaps.
You’ll find it, Von Schneider, much better than schnapps.�
There was then a loud clang, and just judge his surprise,
As Von Groot sat there wondering and rubbing his eyes;
And Von said to himself, “now, it really don’t seem
What I’ve passed through to-night can be only a dream.�
The soft Christmas chimes then rang out loud and clear,
Like a sweet benediction saying “be of good cheer;
Be a man, drink no schnapps, and go home to your wife—
Stick to water, my boy, for the rest of your life.
The little green imps that you saw here last night
Were all made of schnapps and I hope that the fright
That they gave you will save you for ever and aye.�
“Oh, yes,� says Von Schneider, “to schnapps now good-bye.�
He rose from the bank; he was shivering with cold,
And he felt like a mummy a thousand years old.
He thought of Frau Groot and his dear little boys;
So he got a big basket of candies and toys,
And he hurried home quick to his dear little wife.
She kissed him and hugged him, and said “my dear life,
Where have you been all night?� And he said, “Santa-Claus.�
She replied, “say no more, my dear husband, because
You’ve been drinking, you know.� And he answered, “perhaps
Just one drink too much, my dear angel, of schnapps.
“I’ve passed a bad night, and I certainly think
That schnapps, wife, is not just the best thing to drink.
It is Christmas day, and at least for one year,
Or until the next Christmas chimes you shall hear,
I’ll drink no more schnapps.� On the lips of his wife
He imprinted a kiss. For the rest of his life
He was sober and merry, and each Christmas time,
As he heard the sweet sounds of the holiday chime,
He remembered his dream, and the terrible fright
That he got from his schnapps on that Christmas night.
COPYRIGHTED 1885 BY CHAS. T. BAINBRIDGE’S SONS.
