"Old Santa's mighty good, I know.
And awful rich—and he can go
Down ever' chimbly anywhere
In all the world!—But I don't care,
I wouldn't trade with him, and be
Old Santa Clause, and him be me,
Fer all his toys and things!—and I
Know why, and bet you he knows why!—
They wuz no Santa Clause when he
Wuz ist a little boy like me!"
THE STEPMOTHER
First she come to our house,
Tommy run and hid;
And Emily and Bob and me
We cried jus' like we did
When Mother died,—and we all said
'At we all wisht 'at we was dead!
And Nurse she couldn't stop us;
And Pa he tried and tried,—
We sobbed and shook and wouldn't look,
But only cried and cried;
And nen some one—we couldn't jus'
Tell who—was cryin' same as us!
Our Stepmother! Yes, it was her,
Her arms around us all—
'Cause Tom slid down the banister
And peeked in from the hall.—
And we all love her, too, because
She's purt' nigh good as Mother was!