| 'TWAS the night after Christmas, and all through the house Not a creature was stirring—excepting a mouse. The stockings were flung in haste over the chair, For hopes of St. Nicholas were no longer there. |
| The children were restlessly tossing in bed, For the pie and the candy were heavy as lead; While mamma in her kerchief, and I in my gown, Had just made up our minds that we would not lie down, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter. Away to the window I went with a dash, Flung open the shutter, and threw up the sash. |
| The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave the lustre of noon-day to objects below, When what to my long anxious eyes should appear But a horse and a sleigh, both old-fashioned and queer; With a little old driver, so solemn and slow, I knew at a glance it must be Dr. Brough. |
| I drew in my head, and was turning around, When upstairs came the Doctor, with scarcely a sound. He wore a thick overcoat, made long ago, And the beard on his chin was white with the snow. |
| He spoke a few words, and went straight to his work; He felt all the pulses,—then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, With a nod of his head to the chimney he goes:— "A spoonful of oil, ma'am, if you have it handy; No nuts and no raisins, no pies and no candy. These tender young stomachs cannot well digest All the sweets that they get; toys and books are the best. But I know my advice will not find many friends, For the custom of Christmas the other way tends. |
| The fathers and mothers, and Santa Claus, too, Are exceedingly blind. Well, a good-night to you!" And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight: "These feastings and candies make Doctors' bills right!" |